He tugs on one lock of my hair. “Lean down and give me your mouth. I need to taste you.”
I drop forward and claim his mouth, sucking in his tongue as if it were his shaft.
He ravages me. There’s no other word for it. His mouth lays waste to mine. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I forget where I am. There’s only Matty and the feel of his fingers working my sex, his hand gripping my waist too tight, his big body surrounding me and keeping me safe.
“I want you to come so hard you’re shaking. That you can’t even breathe.” he tells me, pushing me back again. “I love the feel of you gripping my fingers. Your pussy is so tight. Do you know that? Do you have any idea of how good that feels?”
“It’s good,” I pant. “So good.”
“I wish we had class together. We’d sit in the back, and I’d pull up your skirt and play around a little until your panties were soaked. I’d take my index finger and slowly rub your lips until they were nice and plump.” He pulls out and demonstrates. “I wouldn’t hurry it along.” God, why not, I think. I can’t be any more on edge than I am now.
“Back inside.” I gasp out the order. “I need your fingers back inside of me.”
“Like this?” He shoves them in hard, this time it’s three of them. I shriek at the pure pleasure.
He adds a thumb down the front of my pants, and I come like a rocket. When I float back out of the clouds, down to earth, I find that I’ve two chunks of Matty’s hair in either hand, and I’m suffocating him against my chest. I slowly force myself to release him, gently brushing his hair back into place and rearranging the mess I’ve made of his clothes. He grins the whole time.
“You like that?”
I nod. “Best sledding trip ever.” I reach down between us to cup his gigantic hard-on. “Let’s get home so I can take care of you.”
He licks his lower lip. “Best after-sledding trip coming up.”
26
Lucy
The following Friday, I wake up to the sound of the shower. Matty is gone, but the bed is still warm. The sheets are an utter disaster, and I don’t know how I fell asleep on them because that kind of messiness drives me nuts.
Oh right, Matty fucked me into unconsciousness.
I stretch a bit and revel in the soreness of rarely used muscles. I wouldn’t have to do my daily walk today because I’ve had enough exercise to last three days, at least.
Sutton and Charity have declared that Matty’s good for me, and I won’t deny that I’ve never been happier. These past couple of weeks have been a revelation. I thought dating Matty would be hard, but it isn’t. Despite school, work, and mock trial, there’s always time for each other. And it’s a relief that he’s as busy as I am.
In fact, starting next Tuesday, he’ll be even busier because spring practice starts. When he said he’d do all the work and I just had to enjoy the rewards, he wasn’t kidding.
The only thorn is Ace. He finally apologized, but he did it via text. I’m sorry for him, but I’m not going to be his punching bag. When he’s ready to be an adult, I’ll talk to him. Until then, he’ll have to stew in his own juices.
I should get up and test my blood sugars, but I don’t want to. I want to stay here in bed, wrapped up in the warmth of Matty’s body and the scent of us together. In fact, if I close my eyes tight enough, I can even conjure up a slow-motion replay of my favorite part of last night. I think it might have been at his desk where he bent me over and took me from behind, all the while whispering dirty things in my ear.
Lord, that boy has a mouth on him.
“That’s a smug sex smile if I’ve ever seen one.”
I flick my eyes part way open to see Matty strolling out of the bathroom using his towel to dry his hair. His dick hangs free between his legs looking quite delectable.
I give him a lazy smile as he pulls on a pair of sleep pants. “Don’t worry, babe. You’re playing a starring role in my fantasies.”
“I’d be worried if I wasn’t, cuz that would mean I’m not doing a very good job of rule number one, which is to make sure you have a damn good time.”
“If I had a better time, I might not be conscious.”
Concern immediately falls over his face. “You feeling okay?”
“I’m feeling pretty awesome, thanks.”
“Good.” He presses a knee into the side of the bed. “I’m going downstairs to get something to eat.” I make a motion to get up, but he presses me back. “I’ve got this.”
I allow him to leave, then heave myself out of bed. My monitoring kit is in my backpack, which got flung onto Matty’s desk. There’s a folder, a notebook, and some papers lying on the floor. We must have knocked them off in our haste to undress.
I stoop down and gather everything up. The notebook’s partly open and I take a quick peek. In it is a list of plays. Various offensive schemes. I chuckle a bit. Matty’s a serious student but his number one topic is football. Which makes sense. We’re all studying so we can get a job out in the real world, and Matty’s working toward a potential multimillion-dollar-a-year job after college. It shouldn’t surprise me his primary focus is football.
I stack the loose papers on top of the notebook and grab the folder. I pick it up by the wrong end and the contents flutter out.
“Crap.” I’m making a bigger mess than what I started with. As I’m gathering the stuff, I spot my name on one of the papers. An awful sensation starts churning in my stomach. With trembling fingers, I pick the paper up. Two notebook sheets with precise printing—the kind you see on architectural drawings—are headed with my name in big block letters. I scan it. It lists my major, where I work. That I have two roommates.