18. Elias
EIGHTEEN
Elias
We find a shaky sort of routine. It’s fast. Really fast. We go home together. We feed each other. I’m never not touching her. We send each other nudes. I get pictures of her tits; she gets dick pics. It’s all strange and different though, because we’ve always been roommates, always been close. The trust is already there. Mia is right, our beds are fifty feet away from each other… and we fuck… every night. In one of our beds.
Sometimes, we even fuck under the guise of lessons.
The first is a lesson on the use of various toys. She only has the one tiny vibrator, so we go to a shop in Clinton Hill together. I know this is going to be my best lesson yet.
I hold the door open for her, gesturing her in like the gentleman I am.
It’s a haven of silicone and tiny motors and pleather and leather and feather and lace. Mia seems to shrink when she takes it all in.
I take her by the hand, kissing her fingers. “Let’s just poke around. We don’t have to get anything.”
“Okay,” she says, gathering herself and steeling her spine. I smile.
I decide to ease into it, and she follows me down an aisle of lingerie. I’m in the middle of imagining her in every single one of these outfits, particularly this one that’s made entirely of half inch wide strips of black leather, when I see her touch something else.
I move over to her, standing just behind her.
“I like this one,” she says, and I almost cry in agony.
It’s beautifully constructed, actually, not as harsh and sharp as the leather thing I was just looking at. It’s a teddy of some sort, made of a super fine white lace. I swallow.
“This would look fucking incredible on you,” I say, loving the way she blossoms under my compliments. I keep going, whispering into her ear. “I imagine the white of it pressing into your creamy skin, the way I would trace the edges around your tits, your pussy, right here,” I say, while running my finger around the ends.
She takes a step back into me, unconsciously, and I press my erection into her ass.
“Get it,” I tell her, and she takes it.
She has a little more confidence after this aisle, and we move more fluidly through the others.
“You know how you love when I play with these,” I say, pinching her nipples through her shirt. It’s my favorite day, a ‘Mia is braless day’.
She nods, breaths shallow.
“These feel like I’m doing it the whole time,” I tell her, about the nipple clamps. “You can also adjust the tension. Looser,” I demonstrate on her nipples, “or tighter,” I say, pinching down.
She throws it in the basket.
“I like how it feels when you put your finger up there,” she whispers, when we’re standing in another aisle. “This would be like you’re doing it the entire time?”
I’m slowly losing my mind, feeling a bit lightheaded from all the blood rushing to my cock. “Yeah. There are different sizes, widths. Some even vibrate.”
She picks up a silicone vibrating butt plug on the smaller side, throwing it in the basket. She then picks up a larger one, and puts that one in the basket, too.
“I think I’m dying,” I inform her.
Mia turns to me, pupils blown. “Let’s go,” she says.
I grab a giant bottle of lube at random and rush down the aisle.
She randomly grabs some sort of vibrating thing and throws it on the counter while we pay.
We all but sprint home.
I shove her up against the back of our front door a millisecond after we step in. We devour each other’s mouths, hungry and demanding and seeking, ripping each other’s clothes off until her sopping wet pussy is grinding up and down the length of my bare dick while I have her balanced in my arms and pushed up against the back of the door.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” I’m telling her, licking up her neck, new bag of goodies forgotten, ready to tilt her hips and push in.
She pushes me away instead, putting her feet on the ground. “Nipple clamps,” she tells me bossily.
I huff a laugh. “Shit, okay, man-eater. Go sit on the couch.”
She sways those gorgeous hips over while I dig through our bag, pulling out the clamps and plug and lube.
I get on the ground between her knees, spreading them wider and opening her up. “Gorgeous,” I tell her. I take out the clamps and fiddle with the tiny knobs on the side. “Let’s start with this,” I say, taking the first clamp and looking at her face. It almost knocks me over, the look in her eyes. One of complete trust and lust and anticipation, and fuck .
I notch the clamp on her right nipple, watching her face as I slowly let it go. “Is that good?”
Her chest rises and falls. “Tighter, I think,” she whispers.
“Christ. I love that,” I tell her. I tighten the knobs and pinch them on each of her nipples.
I’m still on my knees, looking up at her. The metal connecting the two clamps tinkles with the movement of her chest. “Better,” she sighs.
I tug on the chain, lightly.
She groans, grinding her hips on nothing, and I’m speechless.
“You look so fucking beautiful,” I say, absentmindedly tugging on my dick. “I’m going to help myself, now,” I say to her center, before diving in. “Grind that pussy on my face.”
Ravenous now, I lick every inch, tracing her folds with my tongue, teaching myself what she likes. A lick here, a suck there. Tight, firm circles after wide, sweeping passes. Tugging on the nipple clamps every so often, a steady pressure versus short, sharp pulls, figuring out which she likes better. I take her to the edge, just as I’m sure she’s about to come, and then I pull away.
“No,” she gasps, trying to use her legs to pull me back in. “What are you—get back here?—”
“What do you think,” I ask, giving her another lick, watching her thighs twitch, “about trying this plug?”
She blinks the haziness in her eyes away. “Yes,” she begs.
She watches me closely with her X-ray eyes as I take the bottle of lubricant and squeeze a hefty amount onto the toy, onto her, the two of us watching as it dribbles down. I use the thumb of one hand to rub small circles on her clit, and I use the pointer of the other hand to rub firm circles around her asshole.
“Fuck,” we whisper at the same time, her eyes squeezing shut and head dropping back on the couch.
“Watch, Gorgeous,” I tell her, not wanting any bit of this to be a surprise, wanting her to be able to stop me if it gets to be too much.
She lifts her head and looks down.
I turn on the vibrating setting of the plug and place it gently on her clit, moving it in small circles, and slowly, I slip the tip of my finger inside the tight ring of her ass. I push in to the first knuckle, groaning at the warmth.
“Elias,” she breathes, the metal of the chain tinkling with the heaving of her chest.
I don’t stop the steady pressure in. I look up and see her lips parted, slack with pleasure. “You like my finger in your ass, baby?”
“I’m coming,” she moans immediately, and I feel the telltale rippling and squeezing around my finger.
I wonder why I feel like I’m not far behind her, and I realize I’ve been dry-humping the couch this entire time. “Holy shit.” She’s still incoherent, so I keep babbling on. “I need to be inside you. Fuck.” I slip my finger out and replace it with the tip of the plug. Her eyes shoot open to watch me press it in.
My dick is so hard it’s painful. I think I could cry once the plug is all the way in, the base of it the only part visible. I use the remote to turn up the strength of the vibrations.
Mia’s head is thrashing back and forth. “Shit, shit, shit. So good. It’s so good.”
“Fuck. Fuck,” I’m chanting, fixing her body so she lays horizontally on the couch, mounting on top of her. I hold myself at my base and slowly push into her soaking wet warmth. It’s a snugger fit than usual, and immediately I feel the vibrations of the plug on my dick through her thin inner walls. “Fuck. I’m not going to last.”
Mia doesn’t answer, because she is too busy panting, her hands rubbing over her own body, pulling on the chain connecting the two nipple clamps herself. “Move, Elias,” she moans.
I thrust once, but the tight squeeze combined with the vibrations have me precariously, embarrassingly close to the edge. I close my eyes, because I think if I look at her writhing on my dick with the clamps, I’m going to fucking blow. “Mia, I’m so sorry, baby, I’m going to?—”
“ Fuck me , Elias,” she yells.
“Fuck,” I say, gritting my teeth together and moving, opening my eyes because I do, in fact, have to watch her beautiful body writhing on my dick, moving with me, meeting each of my thrusts. I press down on her clit, hard. I make it one, two, three?—
“God,” she whimpers, and I barely hear it before we descend into madness. I feel the beginnings of the rippling of her inner walls around me, the tight fit making it more obvious, and I panic that I’m going to come before her, but I can’t stop, can’t think, can’t breathe, can only fuck . I slam into her, hard , four, five, six, and her body goes still before shaking violently, back bowing in half backwards and arching off the couch, and thank fucking god because I feel my own orgasm barreling through my body, meeting her own, coming so hard it’s almost painful, and somewhere beyond the ringing in my ears I hear her screaming.
“Mia,” I choke out, blind with agony and pleasure.
I think I black out. I come to laying on top of her, crushing her body. We’re a tangle of sweat and limbs, one of her legs over the back of the couch, one of mine on the floor. Mindlessly, I feel my come leaking out of her around my dick. I don’t think our couch will ever be the same.
She sighs from underneath me. “A-plus”.
I grunt.
“Don’t move. Stay like this forever.”
“Okay,” I breathe, because I will never say no to her.
I try to sneak back into my room at least every other night. Because… we’re just friends-with-benefits. Lifelong-friends-with-benefits.
The morning after Butt Plug Incident (is what we’ve started calling it) is one of those mornings, though, when I wake up alone and sad and cold in my bed and pretend that it’s a good thing we have these boundaries.
I walk into the kitchen, where Mia is already up with my cup of coffee ready for me. Walking over to her, I take the coffee and put it on the table. I take her face in my hands and kiss her softly, her top lip, her bottom lip. Each corner. Because I deserve it after prying my very content body away from hers last night.
I deserve this! I scream at myself when we pull away and she’s radiant, blue eyes sparkling at me in the morning sun.
I sit down and pull her into my lap. “What should we do today?” I ask, in between peppering her neck with kisses.
She turns in the chair so that she’s straddling me instead, but it’s not a sexual thing, at least not yet. She drapes her torso onto mine, resting her head on my shoulder and her face into my neck, and it’s a perfect fit. I wrap my arms around her and give her a squeeze before taking a sip of my coffee.
Boundaries are good, so that we have moments like this.
“Breakfast maybe?” she says, after a moment of silence.
I tuck my hands under her shirt, feeling her skin. “Sounds good.”
“You pick the next thing.”
“Hmmm… I say, rubbing up and down.
“Something outside of the apartment and not sexual.”
I bite her shoulder. “Fine. How about…” I remember that it’s Sunday. “Don’t you usually work today?”
She sighs. “Yes. Later. But let’s do something before that,” she says into my neck.
“We haven’t meal prepped in a while. Let’s be responsible and do our lunches for the week. Grocery shopping, then cooking?”
“Okay,” she says, but not moving.
I keep rubbing the smooth expanse of her skin.
“Can you give me one blow job lesson before breakfast?” she asks.
I’m already moving her down my body, slipping my boxers off.