Give Me a Chance (BYC #2)

1. Matt

1

MATT

A year ago . . .

I can’t believe this is happening. I think to myself before pinning her to the restroom door.

The blood roars in my veins, reaching a boiling point. A soft hand rubs my aching cock over my jeans, making it leak precum. My hands are in her wild curls, holding her still while my mouth travels down. I suck, nip, and lick her delicate neck, her collarbone, getting too close to the mouth-watering cleavage presented to me in an innocent looking white sundress.

She guides my head lower, so I take the chance pulling down the sundress and set free a set of the most spectacular tits I’ve ever seen. The smooth, round, luscious breasts with perfect hardened pink nipples make me growl at the sight. It’s a strange sound, coming out of my mouth, but something about this girl draws out my primitive side. Ever since I first saw her, I couldn’t look away. She has an aura around her, luring people into her orbit.

Her breath hitches in her throat when I take a nipple between my teeth. I soothe the pain by licking and lapping at it. My hands use the time to grab her ass and slide a hand beneath the sundress, suddenly mastering multitasking, unwilling to let a single second go to waste. A rogue finger slips under her tiny panties, eliciting a moan as I encounter a soaking wet pussy.

Another wave of desire shoots through my throbbing cock, turning the situation of being caged in boxers and jeans downright painful. The pain grounds me momentarily.

“Fuck, we need a condom. I don’t have one.” My mouth is back on hers, apologetic about being an idiot who doesn’t have condoms.

“There’s one in my purse,” she says, not breaking the kiss and riding my finger, now deep inside of her.

Using whatever blood’s left in my brain, my left hand finds her purse on the bathroom counter and digs through it, finding the Holy Grail. Her moans are louder and her moves less controlled, but I want her to come on my cock, so I take my hand out of her panties, slipping them off. She groans in protest, but her eyes are pure fire, watching me unzip and lower my pants and boxers, freeing my cock. I quickly put on the condom, landing another passionate kiss on her swollen lips.

She jerks her head backward, breaking the kiss.

“Don’t go romantic on me now, Matt. I need you to fuck me, hard .” Something breaks at her words.

Typically, I’m not a rough lover. But who am I to deny her what she wants? I’d give this woman anything she asked of me.

Grabbing her dark brown, curly hair, I lower her head so she can make my cock nice and wet. She whimpers, opening her mouth wide, and takes me into the back of her throat. The sound of gagging fills the small space, making me wince, but she continues taking me in as far as she can. Spit now covers my entire length, so I take my dick out and turn her around, setting her against the counter.

Within seconds, her short dress is around her waist and I thrust inside her, burying myself to the hilt. We groan in unison as I close my eyes, her tight heat almost too much for me to handle. Her open-toed heels make her a perfect height for me to take in this position. Opening my eyes, I’m met with the most incredible sight. She’s looking at me in the stained mirror, skin flushed, mouth still swollen and wet from gagging on my cock, tits out.

Fuck, this is going to end sooner than I want. Grinding my teeth to keep from coming, I grab her shoulders and start fucking her harder. She moans and whimpers, unaware that we are in a public bathroom—and I don’t blame her. Not even an audience would keep me from fucking her at this point.

Her hand lands on top of mine, dragging it to her throat, her eyes pleading in the mirror. I realize what she wants. What she needs. But I’m not comfortable giving it to her. It’s too dangerous to do without training, and I’d never hurt her.

I grab her jaw, not applying any pressure, and use the other hand to pull her hair, giving her a pinch of pain but not putting her in any danger. Her moans indicate she’s good with that, so I up the pace, trying to push her over the edge before I fall over mine. Getting too close, my hand snakes down to her clit, massaging it in tiny circles.

Her moans turn desperate and before long we are both free-falling over the edge, her tight pussy pulsing around me and dragging my orgasm from me. We both shake and groan before the last waves of pleasure disappear. Trying to calm my breath, I drop to her back, leaving small kisses on her shoulders, making her skin prickle. My heart beats fast and loud with adrenaline and, I guess, hope.

We stay like that a few minutes before a knock sounds at the restroom door. Thanking the gods the knock didn’t come sooner (and neither did I), I grab some hand towels and clean the mess we’ve made between her legs. I take off the condom and wash my hands while she makes herself look presentable in uncomfortable silence.

She turns to me, a polite smile on her face.

“Thanks for that. I had fun.” Her dark eyes turn almost apologetic. “But this won’t happen again, and I hope we can forget it ever did. We’re bound to run into each more, so I trust this is the best course of action. You agree?”

“If that’s what you want . . .”

“It is.” She’s quick to respond.

“Ok, then. Nothing happened, and we won’t speak of it again.”

She gives me a relieved smile and exits the bathroom.

What she’s asking is easier said than done. I’ll respect her decision and not mention it, but I doubt I could ever forget the way it felt having Natalie Barnett be mine, even if only for a few fleeting minutes.