I lick along the shaft and engulf the head. I look up as I take more of him in. Randy’s mouth drops open, and his hands go into my hair. I hold on to his ass, and he cradles my head. I suck as if blow jobs are an Olympic event, and I’m going for the gold medal.
“Holy fuck, Lily.” Randy puts a hand on the wall to steady himself.
His knees buckle at my loud slurping noise. Guys are so funny about having their cock in a mouth, and based on Randy’s previous experiences, I’m turning into his blow-job goddess.
All my hot spots are lighting up like a Vegas slot machine when Randy fists my hair and pulls me off. A string of saliva connects the head to my bottom lip. From my perspective it’s gross, but Randy’s a guy, and for whatever reason, they seem to like all the suction sounds and bodily fluids.
He bends over me, panting, muscles straining. His cock is inches from my face. He’s still holding the wall with one hand and my hair with the other. I won’t lie. It’s superhot. I may be on my knees, but I’m definitely the one with all the power. I run my hands up his thighs and bite my bottom lip, being coy. I trace the white line across his hip, then sweep a single finger all the way down the shaft, over the smiley scar, to the tip. Randy’s eyes roll up, and he shudders.
“Are you going to fuck me now?” I’m saccharine sweet about it.
He pulls me up by my hair and crushes his mouth to mine. Oh, man. This is going to be some serious get-back-together-now-I’m-his-girlfriend sex. He must forget that his pants are still around his ankles, because he stumbles and has to shuffle to the bed. We fall in a heap on the mattress. My comforter is a rumpled mess, and I didn’t even bother to put my suitcase on the floor before I went to bed last night, so I had to sleep on an angle.
We slither-flop up the bed so half our bodies aren’t hanging off the end. Randy’s heavy on top of me. His cock is nestled in tight between my legs. And of course, he’s already started with the wet-humping.
At this point I’ve stopped being surprised by how quickly he makes me come. I think it’s just the way we are together. With the next roll of his hips, the head rubs my clit. I dig my nails into his ass and arch. He slips low. The head breaches the Vagina Emporium’s front door.
Randy breaks the kiss, and we do the stare off. We don’t need actual words to convey the question we’re both silently asking. Is it okay? Can we do this without a condom? He hasn’t had sex with anyone else in a long time.
“I’m clean.” Randy cringes, embarrassed. It says more than his reassurance. “I’ll get a condom.”
“It’s okay.”
“You’re sure.” He sinks in a little more.
“I’ve been on the pill forever.”
Randy’s hands are on my face. He goes deeper, maybe testing out whether or not I’m serious. I don’t stop him, so he keeps going. His groan is loud and low. “Don’t judge me if I come fast.”
“As long as I come before you do, we’re good.”
“No promises.”
His back expands and contracts with every breath. He’s definitely not in control. His entire body is trembling. I lock my legs around his hips and skim his cheek with my fingertips. “Hey.”
His eyes flip up to mine.
“Be with me.”
He releases a sharp exhale and starts to move. It’s not some gentle, let’s-make-love bullshit. It’s hip-slamming, bed-creaking, full-out make-up fucking. There’s no way we’re being quiet. I’ll be surprised if we don’t break my bed. Thankfully, I don’t need it in Chicago.
We can’t kiss because the pounding is too vigorous. All I can do is hold on while he goes ballistic. It’s awesome. I come twice and bite the shit out of his shoulder. We’re rocking the bed so much my suitcase falls to the floor with a loud crash.
Randy slows down with the knock on my door. “Everything okay in there?” It’s Tim-Tom. I guess he’s out of the shower.
“It’s fine. I dropped my suitcase!” I call.
Randy’s face is buried in my neck, and his shoulders are shaking.
“Need any help?”
“Nope. I’m good! Thanks, Tim!”
“Okay. I’m going to work. See ya later.”
Randy circles his hips, slow and tight, while we wait for Tim to leave, but even after the door closes he doesn’t go back to the vigorous, intense pounding. Instead he stays close and kisses me deep. When he comes, it’s like he’s trying to climb inside my body and stay there forever.
I run my hand down his back, smiling at the shiver I create. Randy lifts his head from the crook of my neck, eyes soft and warm. “That was a lot of fun.”
I laugh and touch his lips, brushing over the scar. “It sure was. We should do it again.”
Epilogue
Couch Confessions
LILY
Three months later
I drop down on Randy’s couch and throw my legs over his lap, cradling my snack bowl.
He leans over and peers inside. “What the hell are these? Why’re they red?”
“They’re ketchup chips.”
Randy makes a face. “Ketchup?”
My mom sent them in a care package. I love living in Chicago, but there are a few things I miss about Canada. Ketchup chips are one of them, my mom is another, and maple-flavored bacon completes the list.
I pop one in my mouth and make a sound similar to the one I make when Randy’s face or fingers or incredibly amazing cock is between my legs. “They’re so good.”