I like her moving around my place. #2
“I’m gonna…” I pant, sweat sliding down my temples.
Her eyes widen, and she’s never looked more beautiful to me.
Lips glistening from sucking me, curls everywhere, eyes focused on me like I’m the only one in existence.
She teases my slit through the cage with her tongue again before resting on her heels, gripping my balls with one hand, and tenderly stroking my thigh with the other.
“Cum,” I manage, the word feeling so foreign that my temples tingle.
“I’m going to cum,” I groan again as she uses one single fingertip to tap my balls.
That’s the last touch I can take from her, and before I can grip the base of the cage and at least angle what I know is going to be an abundant release, it happens— I cum.
It’s the first time I’ve cum in front of anyone. It’s exhilarating and intense as a wild rope spews from me, soaring into the air like a rocket before falling across my thigh.
I fight to keep my eyes open and on her, and watching her stare at me as I orgasm only makes me cum that much more.
Another hot jet of cum spews from behind the cage, and this time, it lands across her chest, over her henley.
The next shot coats her collarbone, and the next my thigh, dripping down over my balls.
“Delane,” her name slips past my lips from habit as the last of my cum erupts, the final thick rope landing on the floor between us.
Once the blood comes back to my brain, I blink away the fog of what just happened and find Delane flush, gorgeous, lips parted. “Don’t move, okay?”
I nod, a lazy smile curling my lips. She gets up and moves around my house for a second before returning with my baseball cap. Setting it on my head, she tugs the bill down over my eyes. “Just relax, and let me clean up. ”
“Delane, I can’t let you clean up my... That ,” I counter, reaching for the hat to tip it up. But she swats my hand away.
“Cum,” she corrects. “Say cum, Miller. That’s part of all of this. Be comfortable with sex, or you’ll never have confidence.”
“Okay,” I concede, not because I’m sure I can just flip a switch and suddenly be comfortable saying cum in front of other people, but because I want to make her happy.
I hear her moving around, I hear the sink, and then she’s back, dragging a damp, warm terry cloth down my thigh, cleaning up my… cum .
“Hang on, okay?” she asks quietly, still moving around my place. I like her moving around my place.
“Okay,” I reply.
A minute later, she’s taking the baseball cap off my head and tossing it aside. In her outstretched palm rests a folded pair of sweats, a t-shirt, and a hoodie. “Now put this on, and I’ll toss the dirty clothes in the wash.”
“You don’t have to do all this,” I counter, feeling bad that she got me off and now is waiting on me hand and foot.
She tugs an elastic hair tie from her wrist and lifts her curls from her shoulders, putting them in a bun on her head.
“Aftercare,” she replies, “is all part of it.” She motions for me to stand, so I do.
And I’ve completely forgotten that my balls are still just… hanging out. But I don’t really care.
I step out of the jeans and boxer briefs, taking a few items of clothing from her.
And while I’m stepping into the clean boxer briefs she brought me, I realize she’s taking her top off.
I try not to look, but her perfect palmful of breasts sway as she feeds her arms through…
my Wrench Kings sweatshirt. She’s got her own, but the way mine almost goes to her knees makes me a little crazy .
“Bathroom’s down the hall,” I offer, “if you want privacy.”
She twists the sleeves so the seams are properly aligned, then turns to me and scoffs. “I’m already dressed, and privacy kind of went out the door when I bought a cage with your cock in mind.”
I chuckle and start to get dressed. With my foot, I start putting the sweats on. “How’d you know where I kept these, by the way?” I ask in reference to the clothes. She winces a little, and I hate that.
“Sorry,” she sighs. “I didn’t want to go through your stuff, but I also didn’t want you getting up and taking care of yourself either.
” She heads down the hall straight toward my laundry closet like she lives here and is familiar with my place.
I don’t know what I like more, her familiarity or the fact that she’s putting her shirt in my washing machine because it has my cum on it.
“Why?” I call after her. “I can. I do all the time.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Are you taking care of yourself all the time?”
I let out a small laugh. That’s part of why I like Delane. Nothing ever feels awkward, not for long, at least. “Aftercare is all part of it, Miller. You can’t make a girl cum and then go play video games. The job doesn’t end when you cum; it ends when they’re fully cared for after cumming.”
Now fully dressed in the sweats and t-shirt she brought me, I reach out and pinch the Wrench Kings hoodie. “Looks good on you.”
She grins. “Most things do.”
I don’t disagree with that, not at all. But I keep that thought to myself.
I lick my lips and notice how flushed she still is. “Hey, Delane,” I say as she flops back down onto my couch. “Is there anything I can do for you now? Since, you know, I owe you.”
She chews the inside of her cheek as she considers my question, finally asking, “If you could do one thing to me right now, what would it be?”
I scratch the back of my head, wanting to say everything I’ve been fantasizing about for… years.
I’ve wanted Delane for years. And I rarely let myself acknowledge that pathetic, love-lorn truth.
I’ve imagined lots of things. Sucking her nipples, licking her between her thighs until she’s moaning my name the way I moaned hers, sinking into her as she locks her ankles behind me. Hey–I may be inexperienced, but my internet browser is in a long-term relationship with PornHub.
I can’t seem to say any of those things, though, and the familiar heat of embarrassment climbs my neck.
She smiles, and my core thrums with an overwhelming emotion I can’t name. “If you can’t say it, you’re not ready. To be the guy with confidence, you have to cut the ties to embarrassment.”
Outstretching her fist, she waits for a bump. I knock my fist to hers, and then we’re both in my apartment, grinning at each other.
“Stay to eat so this isn’t weird,” I say.
Her shoulders lift and drop. “Sure. But it wasn’t going to be weird. This is our deal, remember?”
I nod, wishing this wasn’t a deal but just… us. “Yep.” I nod toward my kitchen. “Come on; I gotta feed Salsa, and then I’ll make us something.”
“Where is he, by the way?” she asks, searching around my place, looking like a wet dream in my hoodie. Heck, I’ll probably have a wet dream tonight.
“Locked him in the spare room so he wouldn’t, like, be out here licking his butt while we were doing… whatever.” I grab the glass container of food and pop open the top, using the scoop to fill his dish.
“I’ll let him out. I feel like I should make a serious attempt to be his friend, you know since I’ll be coming over for a while.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” I tell her as I lower the loaded dish to the floor. Only, I think it’s a good idea because I want Salsa to love her. Chicks like cats. Most of them, at least. Maybe if Salsa loves her, she’ll have a harder time giving me up.
Wow.
That’s probably the second most pathetic thing about me–that I am going to use my cat to guilt my crush into being with me. Only second to being a virgin, but of course.
While washing my hands a second later, Delane lets Salsa out, and by letting Salsa out, I mean she opens the door, and he refuses to show himself out of utter fear.
She hops up on the counter, her hand right next to the key for the cage. I’d set it out on the counter in plain sight so she’d see it when she came over if we needed an easy way to toe into our plans for the night.
Hooking it with her pinky, she drags the key around while watching me unload an armful of items from the fridge onto the counter adjacent to her.
“We don’t need this yet, do we?” she asks in a sultry tone, and honestly, I don’t think I’m ready for this. This is a lot of the very version of Delane I’ve been dying for, and now I’m getting round after round. It’s overwhelmingly dangerous. I can’t fall in love.
I’ll never get over her when she decides she wants someone more.
I shrug. “You tell me.” Reaching for the wok already out on the counter, I bring it close to me and start unpacking already sliced and diced ingredients. Adding oil, I get out spices and am floored to find her just… watching me.
“What?” I ask. “And you didn’t answer.”
She smiles as I peel the plastic wrap off a tray package of chicken. “Just… I don’t know. Watching you be you at home is just…” she brings her thumb to her lips, biting down horizontally. “I like it.”
I dump the empty package in the garbage and wash my hands. “Cooking?”
She volleys her head as if that’s both the answer and not the answer at all. “That but everything. I just… I’m seeing how cool you are and how little I really know about you.”
I don’t want her to feel bad so I shrug again. “No one really knows their coworkers like this.”
Although…
Delane’s favorite color is purple, not light shades like lilac, but vibrant, bold ones.
Her favorite kind of ice cream is rocky road, but she doesn’t eat it that often because Art, Patty, and Mara have an allergy to the nuts in it.
She wants to be a mom. That was a hard fact to learn because she doesn’t voice her big truths often. But I heard her say it to Beck at Beck and Beau’s baby shower. And she’d be such a good mom, just like hers.
On rainy days, she likes to open a window, light a candle, get under a blanket, and listen to her audiobooks. She says it’s the ultimate vibe.
She hates mushrooms, and she likes pickles with peanut butter.