35. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
C ARLY
I wake up a little before Micah does, and see it.
A nice, glorious erection pushing against his chinos. I lick my lips as I stare at it, admiring the large bulge and imagining what his cock looks like underneath. Of course, it’s not a total mystery. I’ve seen it before many times.
But never like this, in the stark light of the day with him lying there defenseless, mouth slack with sleep.
I grin and sit up, running my finger lightly up his thigh.
“Micah,” I whisper. “Are you awake?
He murmurs something but then almost immediately subsides back into slumber. And then I grin and consider my options here.
Micah once told me that one of his fantasies was being woken up with a blow job or someone having sex with him while he was asleep. To be honest, even though I laughed it off, I was more intrigued than disturbed by the concept. He also basically gave me free rein to do just that, winking at me and saying, “Feel free to use me anytime, pretty lady. Even when I’m snoring away. As long as Junior is still working, it’s yours for the taking.”
And though he’d said it in a casual tone, I saw the hunger in his eyes.
At the time I just snorted and rolled my eyes. Why on earth would I try to have sex with someone who was sleeping?
But now I see the appeal.
I reach over, undo his pants and slowly lower the zipper. The glorious man is commando as usual and I reach in to pull out his half-mast cock admiring the beautiful stalk that reaches nearly past his bellybutton.
I can’t believe that’s all mine. I can’t believe it all fits inside me.
I giggle as I stare at it for even longer, running my finger up and down it. He jerks once in a while when I do, his hands squeezing into a fist and his eyebrows furrowing. But he doesn’t wake up.
He must be a deep sleeper, huh?
Well, time to test how deep a sleeper he truly is.
I lean down slowly and trace my tongue up the stalk of his cock. A groan tears out of his chest. His hands unclench to grip the sheets underneath him.
“Fuck me, Carly,” he whispers and pleasure swells inside me. Even in sleep, he knows it’s me. Or at least he wants it to be me.
I suck the mushroom tip into my mouth and watch as his eyes fly open. His head immediately tilts down to watch me.
I suck him even deeper and see those eyes roll back.
“Oh, God.”
Oh, I feel a rush of delicious heat and power when I make his voice go watery like that. It doesn’t take long for his cock to harden into a rod in my mouth, his body growing tight. His thighs are hard underneath my hand, trembling with the effort to control his lust as I bob up and down slowly on his cock. Slurping sounds fill the air and he turns his face to bite his forearm, groaning wetly against it.
I shift to sit astride his shin, and gentleman that he is, he bends his leg to press it against my pussy.
I almost lose track of what I’m doing, shivers racing down my body. He pushes the leg up even more, somehow managing to find my clit without even looking and I cry out.
God, he knows me so well.
I shut my eyes and moan around his cock. My pussy is already wet, just from the thought of teasing him, and this makes it so much worse. I lose myself a little as I ride his leg, sucking faster, dirtier, everything inside me growing more and more desperate.
“Oh, fuck yes. Suck me while you get off.”
His harsh whisper drives me higher, but then I pull back, releasing his cock to stare at it bobbing in the air. Micah snarls and tries to get in my mouth again. His hip lifts off the bed but I back off.
Given how many times he’s teased me, I figure payback’s in order. I want to drive him crazy, the same way he’s driven me crazy all those times.
His eyes meet mine again and I can see the tortured look in them.
“Shh,” I say when he starts to make little protesting sounds and harsh rasps, his hips continuously pumping in the air in protest. “Patience.”
“Fuck, Carly, please .”
“I know. I’ll give it to you. But in my own time.”
I smile and trace my tongue around the base again and again, then follow a vein that climbs to the tip. I flick the underside of the tip with my tongue and he jerks like I shot him. His body is hypersensitive now and so is mine. My skin feels hot, urgency pulsing in my clit, but I don’t rush. Because I love seeing him like this. As much as I love the dominant side of him that makes me scream, I love this side too, the one that can accept vulnerability and be under someone else’s control for a bit.
It’s so fascinating how he can be both, but then again, I should have expected it. Micah’s a dichotomy in many ways: playful but surprisingly profound, sweet but also deadly.
And the more I learn about him, the more I like him. The more I...
I don’t finish that thought. Instead, I swallow his cock, letting his strangled groans elicit a wash of desire.
This is just for fun. I remind myself as I do it again, and enjoy his hungry shouts. Just for fun.
I don’t see Micah much the next day, by design. I have an important test in the afternoon, so I spend much of my time at the college library studying for it.
Micah tells me that he is hanging out with his elderly jailbird friends today–his words, not mine–and assures me that he’ll be fine without me.
That doesn’t stop him from texting me periodically though.
What kind of shoes do you wear when you’re going on a hike? He sends first. Because I’ve got my loafers and they look better than anything else, but I also don’t know if they’ll be comfortable enough. So I’m thinking maybe the ONS.
He sends me pictures of both shoes, one of them black classic sneakers, and the other tan loafers.
I smile.
They’re both great, but definitely not the tan ones. Plus, the other ones bring out your eyes.
Yeah, that’s what I thought, he says and I chuckle.
My laughter pauses when I realize. Wait, you’re going on a hike with Old Man Shoreton?
The response is almost instantaneous. Yeah? Why?
I wonder if I should warn him that Old Man Shoreton’s hikes are somewhat different from regular people’s. Perhaps I should mention that the man is a major nudist and likes to explore nature at his most natural state if you know what I mean.
But then I decide to leave that piece of news as a surprise.
Nothing , I respond. Have fun.
I’ll try. But it’s hard sometimes to have fun without you.
I roll my eyes at the cheesiness and then giggle at the smiley faces he tacks onto the end.
And then I try to focus on my reading again, running my calculations. But after thirty minutes, my phone beeps once more and I know it’s Micah without even looking at the text that pops up on my screen.
WHY AM I STARING AT A BUNCH OF ELDERLY SCHLONG RIGHT NOW??
I crack up then, laughing so hard that the woman at the next table throws me a dirty look.
“Sorry,” I say to her and text Micah an apology too. My bad. I should have warned you.
I mean, it’s fine, he texts back. I’m not judgmental, it’s just… wow, they really let it all hang out.
Are you going to join in? I text. Don’t feel pressured to.
Absolutely not. Not joining in that. No way.
That’s good. Remain firm. Just know that they might feel offended if you don’t.
Well, then they’re going to have to feel offended because ain’t no way I’m showing them my nude form. That’s for your eyes only.
I smile again.
Another thirty minutes later, Micah sends me another photo of him having stripped down to his briefs with a dry look on his face. They got me.
I snort. Looks like you’re halfway down the tourist-to-nudist pipeline.
Never. How is studying going?
Okay. I’m going to mute you now so I can finish.
No! Don’t let the nudists have me!
I almost crack up again but manage to just smile. I put the phone on mute focusing on the test.
Despite Micah’s distractions, I manage to retain most of the information I learn and the test goes well. I walk out of there smiling despite a dull headache on the side of my temple.
As I wait for Micah to pick me up, I decide to head to the pharmacy across the street for some Advil and while there, I browse the aisles for anything else I might need.
It’s while I’m standing in front of the feminine hygiene section that it hits me.
Oh boy does it hit me.
It slams into me then, a horrible sinking realization as I stare at the box of tampons in front of me.
My period is two weeks late.