JOLIE
I practically skip into the hotel on Wednesday night.
I haven’t seen Ben since our last session. Even though I’ve been desperately looking for him as I walk between classes, I haven’t spotted him around, and I couldn’t turn into a stalker and loiter near the law building or the basketball arena.
Waiting for him to text me was pure torture, but I finally heard from him late Monday night, and I actually squealed with delight.
I was on my own, so it was okay to do that. My stomach has been dancing ever since. Who knew I’d be so addicted to orgasms, right?
On Sunday, when I was taking a shower, I tried to give myself another one.
I nearly got there, felt everything, but just couldn’t quite make it to that point.
In the end, I gave up with a frustrated huff and figured maybe I can only get them with the assistance of someone else.
I’m going to ask Ben about it, because my other thought is that I’m doing it wrong.
Or maybe… he’s the only one who can give them to me.
My lips twitch as I ride the elevator up to the third floor. Dancing butterflies are filling me from my throat to my… well… to between my legs. Just the thought of him touching me again is sending me into a tailspin.
A giddy laugh nearly bursts out of me, but I manage to clamp my lips together and contain it so I don’t scare the couple riding in the elevator with me.
The old man holds the door and lets me pass. “Thank you, sir.”
“You’re welcome, my dear.” He gives me a friendly smile, and I watch him walk after his wife, capturing her hand when they’re only a few paces from their room.
How sweet are they?
I love watching old couples who are still in love. It’s the most beautiful thing.
Spinning away from them, I can’t help doing a little walk-jog-skip thing down to room 312. My knock is fast and impatient, and the second Ben opens the door, it takes maximum effort not to fling myself into his arms.
“Hey, Jolie.” He gives me a gentle smile, and as I step past him, all I can sense is this heavy weight of sadness. Or maybe it’s reluctance.
Shit, does he not want to do this with me?
I’m about to slip my shoes off but decide to keep them on, just in case I’ll be making a quick exit because I don’t want him to see me cry.
Why did he invite me all the way here just to tell me this has to stop? He could have done that over the phone, and I’m going to tell him that when he—
“So, how’s your week going?” He walks past me, taking a seat on the chaise.
I watch him, studying his expression quietly before lowering myself down beside him. “Are you okay?” I bypass pleasantries and decide to get this over with. “You seem… sad… or—”
He sighs, his shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry. I’ve just had… a rough day.”
“What happened?” I reach for his hand without thinking, curling my fingers into his palm.
He gives me a gentle squeeze back, then starts telling me about how Coach packed up his office and left today.
I listen to the story about Monday night’s game, wanting to cheer and congratulate him that they won, but I don’t get a chance because he shifts into his coach’s cancer news, and it seems wrong to cheer now.
Once he’s done, he falls silent, then blows out a breath. “Sorry, I should have canceled. You don’t want to hang out with me when I’m feeling this way.”
“Yes, I do.” I smile at him. “I like hanging out with you anytime.” Angling my body around, I tuck my foot under my leg and nestle a little closer to him.
“And you’re allowed to feel sad and unsettled by this.
You’re coach-less right now, and I’m sure you’re feeling kind of lost. I mean, you have the assistant coaches, I guess, but you don’t seem to have much faith in them. ”
He glances at me, his lips rising into a sad smile when he nods.
“But you won’t stay lost forever. You’ll get a new coach, maybe.
And the team is going to have their best season yet.
I’m telling you, by the end, the arenas will be packed with cheering fans because you will have played your asses off.
” I let out a small, awkward laugh. I don’t usually swear or say words like “ass,” but it seems appropriate right now.
“In fact, I’m going to ask to write a follow-up article, mention your win in the next edition of the paper.
Or maybe we can interview you guys for the Sports Digest. That’d be cool. ”
Ben smiles at me, squeezing my hand. “It was pretty epic winning on Monday.”
“I wish I’d been there.”
“Yeah, we don’t usually get fans following us to away games… even when they’re as close as Lennox.”
“Well, maybe you will this year. Winning a preseason game is a great start.”
“Yeah, Jimmy played better than he ever has.”
“I’m sure you all stepped up. It’s a team effort.”
“True.” He nods, then turns to me and smiles. “I gotta thank you, because before the game, we decided to go out there and just have fun, play like we do at a practice. It took all the pressure off.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Your article. I was thinking about it before the game. What you wrote about us… it was inspiring.”
I’m sure I’m blushing as I let out a breathy laugh. Wow. Talk about making a girl feel special!
He brushes his finger down my cheek, and I glance up at him, our eyes connecting in this moment that feels… intimate.
The air seems to still around us for a second, and I’m pretty sure I’ve stopped breathing.
I swear, if this was a movie, romantic music would be softly swelling around us, increasing in volume as he leans forward to press his lips against mine and—
“Well, um…” Ben suddenly looks away, clearing his throat and standing from the couch. “Should we get on with your next lesson?” Wiggling his eyebrows at me, I force a smile, my blush no doubt turning from a pale pink to a bright beetroot.
“Sure,” I squeak, standing up and slipping my shoes off.
He walks over to the bed, running a hand through his hair before turning to face me. “I thought I might show you what it’s like to have oral sex. If you’re comfortable with that.”
I swallow, not sure that I am, but I should give this a try, right?
He’s trying to show me things. Help me out. I should be open to it, and I can always say no if I’m uncomfortable. I trust Ben to listen to me.
Brushing my teeth over my bottom lip, I gingerly approach him.
“Hey, it’s okay if you don’t like it. I’ll stop if you don’t. You just have to tell me.”
Smiling up at him, my worries scuttle back into hiding, and I rise to my tiptoes and kiss him.
He captures me against him, tugging me close and kissing me back. I sink into it, trying to remind myself that this is just a lesson. There are no feelings here. Well, not on his part anyway.
He’s just helping me out.
I really shouldn’t go getting all mushy over him. Even when he does share news about his rough day. Even when he thanks me for my inspiring article. Even when we looked at each other like there’s more here than we want to admit.
Tugging on my shirt, Ben lifts it over my head, and I go with it, trying and failing to believe the mantra: This doesn’t mean anything. It’s just another lesson in the bedroom.
Peeling off my clothes, one layer at a time, I’m soon naked on the bed with Ben between my legs, licking my clit. It feels strange and wet and… I think I might like it. I’m not really sure. Moving my hips, I close my eyes and try to get into it.
“This okay?” he murmurs between kisses.
“Mm-hmm.”
His head pops up, and I open my eyes to look at him. “Are you sure? You don’t seem as into it.”
“I just… It feels weird.”
“Good weird?”
“I don’t know.” I bite my lip, feeling bad that he’s going to all this effort and I’m not responding the way I should.
His lips twitch. “Jolie, tell me what you like.”
“Well, I… Do you mean, like…?” I point at myself.
“Yes, what feels good for your body?”
I stare at his glistening lips, blinking and plucking up the courage to tell him. “Well, I… I like it when you kiss my breasts.”
“Okay.” He crawls back up between my legs, sucking my left nipple into his mouth and making me groan.
“And I like it when you touch me between my legs.” I let out a breathy gasp and get lost in the moment as he strokes me gently, kneading that sweet spot until I’m starting to unravel.
But then he stops, pulling away from my chest and gazing into my eyes. “I want to show you more. Can I… put my fingers inside you?”
Nerves scatter through me and I internally clench, but I can tell he’s about to say I don’t have to if I don’t want to… and knowing that allows me to whisper, “Okay.”
“Are you sure?”
I think about it for a second, then nod.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he assures me. And I believe him.
Which is why I let my head rest against the pillow and close my eyes when he starts kissing my breasts again. His finger trail down to my opening, lightly teasing my folds before nudging into me.
I let out a soft gasp, the sensation traveling through me surprisingly pleasant.
Gripping the back of his head, I fist his soft locks and groan again when he hits another spot I wasn’t expecting.
Oh, that’s actually quite nice.
His lips move away from my breasts and down my body again.
“Is this okay?” he murmurs, his lips skimming just above my hairline.
“Uh-huh.” I can barely breathe, let alone form coherent sentences, and this time, when his tongue brushes over my clit, I nearly hit the ceiling.
With his fingers curling inside me and his tongue doing whatever it’s doing, I race toward my climax like I’ve just jumped into a rocket.
The sensations build inside me, tearing through my entire body, rising, growing… exploding…
“Ahhh!” I let out a cry that is pure ecstasy as my hips shoot off the bed and I fist the sheet beneath me.
Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!
“Oh wow.” I’m struggling for air, the words whistling out of me as he continues to decimate my body with his gentle fingers and sweet lips.
“Stop,” I have to rasp, because seriously, I can’t take any more.
He pulls back just a little, smiling against my inner thigh before pressing a soft kiss to my skin and slipping his fingers out of me.
My hips finally relax back onto the mattress. I’m so sated, I’m not sure I can see straight.
“That good?” He moves to lie beside me, resting his hand on my belly with a grin.
“Yes,” I whisper, rolling toward him and brushing my fingers over the lump in his pants.
He pulls his hips back so I can’t reach him.
“Please,” I whisper. “I want to see you come.”
“What?” His expression wrinkles, like he’s worried.
“You made me come,” I try to explain. “And I want to do the same for you. Please let me.”
“Jolie…” He sighs and shakes his head.
“Please.” I sit up, practically begging him and not even understanding why.
But I just really want to touch him.
To know what it’s like for him.
“This isn’t about me.”
“Please,” I whisper again, and he slumps back onto the bed, closing his eyes and not answering me.
I brush my hand over his bulge again and a groan rises in his throat.
Stretching my body alongside his, I nestle my naked breasts against his chest and lightly kiss his neck.
“Please, Ben. I know this is all supposed to be about my pleasure, but you said that making me come pleases you too. So… won’t me making you come have the same effect?” I stroke his pants and he groans once more, his eyes still shut. “Please let me try.”
I hold my breath, resting my hand over his bulge and waiting for him to push me off or…
With a sigh, he unbuttons his jeans and opens the fly.
I sit back in gleeful anticipation, watching him nudge his pants down his hips. He’s wearing these black boxer briefs that are so sexy, and I can see his hard length straining against the fabric.
“Is it okay if I…?” Hooking my finger into the waistband, I hesitate, waiting for his permission.
He nods once and I pull the band back, his penis popping out like a jack-in-the-box. The imagery almost makes me giggle, but I manage to swallow the sound, not wanting him to think I’m laughing about his very impressive manhood.
“Wow,” I murmur as Ben pushes his underwear down to his thighs and I curl my fingers around him.
He lets out a shaky sigh, shifting on the bed as I delicately explore this amazing phenomenon. It’s hard, but the skin is smooth. Brushing my thumb over the top, I then glide my hand down his length and ask, “What do I do?”
“Just what you’re doing,” he croaks. “You feel good.”
He rests his hand on my hip, giving it a light squeeze, before trailing his fingers up my body and cupping my breast. I let out a soft moan and keep pumping him.
It’s quite natural really, instinctive, and the way he responds to me has me increasing my pressure and speed. I end up lying down beside him, kissing his lips, dipping my tongue into his mouth while I pump him up and down, up and down.
His chest starts to heave, and I wonder if he’s getting close.
Shifting his hips again, he squirms, another groan building in his throat.
“Is this okay?” I whisper against his cheek.
“Yes,” he rasps, moaning again and gripping my hip. His fingers dig into me, curving around to my butt and squeezing the flesh just as a shudder rolls through him. “I’m coming,” he croaks.
His body starts to jerk, and then this creamy white stuff is spurting out of him.
Oh wow, is that…?
I blink, watching in fascination as he convulses and groans, spurting two more times over his stomach. Some gets on my hand as well, and he starts apologizing.
“Shit, sorry. I should have grabbed a tissue. I just got caught up in the moment.”
He turns and starts looking for tissues, but I honestly don’t care about the mess. I’m fascinated by it. Rubbing my thumb over the cream, I watch as his penis starts to relax, slowly softening again.
“Wow,” I whisper, then grin when he sits up, yanking tissues out of box by the bed and cleaning himself up. “I made you come.”
His lips twitch, but he won’t look at me as he murmurs, “Yes, you did.”
“And it felt good?” I lean toward him when he balls up the tissues, chucking them toward the trash can by the desk. They all go in, and I smile at him again.
Gently cupping my cheek, Ben brushes his thumb over my skin. “Yeah, it felt good. It felt really good.”
“Yay.” I launch myself at him, pressing my lips to his before he can stop me.
For a second, I think he might push me back and let me know that was a one-time thing and this session is over.
But then his tongue swipes into my mouth and I end up crawling onto his lap, straddling his muscular thighs and kissing him like I never have before.