Chapter 13I like her. A lot. #6
“Yeah, it always looks so soft.” One more ruffle before she drops her hand to the column of my neck. Her voice is low when she says, “I can feel your pulse.”
“Yeah?” Her nipple is so hard beneath my palm.
She nods. “Your heart is racing.”
We stare at each other, and somewhere in the distance, I can hear Salsa chasing a balled-up piece of foil around, likely in the living room. And this evening–us together naked in bed, Salsa playing, the heater cranking, a soft smile on her lips–it's what I want. Forever.
“Stay just like that,” she whispers, those four words a promise.
I remain on my back, sinking into my mattress while watching in raw amazement as she positions herself between my thighs, both of us completely naked, no sheets or cages covering us. Her dark eyes still hold mine as she drives her hands up my legs, fingers fanned out.
“Now, don’t worry about when you cum. Don’t try and make it last or try to be anything for me. Put your hands behind your head, and just… enjoy, okay?”
I don’t know if I can agree to that and keep my word; every part of me is conditioned to hide what I’m really feeling.
It’s so hard to retrain your brain, even when it comes to a beautiful woman stroking your cock.
I want to last for her; I want to impress her with my stamina because women want that, right?
A man who can last? Every video I’ve discovered in the dark corners of the internet shows a man who can endlessly give it to a woman.
“I just… I’m not going to last long, Laney,” I say, and something about using her nickname while we’re naked together gives us both pause. Finally, she allows herself to look down at my exposed erection and full, aching balls.
“Do you think lasting is the most important thing?” she asks, her palms inching closer to my groin as she studies my cock.
Yet, I feel less self-conscious than I imagined.
She looks up at me, eyes glittering. “You’ve got a lot to be proud of between these thighs.
” She clutches my quads and gives my legs a little wiggle to send home her point. “Quit worrying and just enjoy.”
I nod because my mouth is so dry I can’t speak. She swipes the slit, circling the wide, pink crown of my cock with one fingertip. Bringing her finger to her lips, she tastes my precum, and the sight has me leaking.
“Oh my god,” the words tumble out of my mouth, a breathy whisper.
“You taste good, Miller.” Then she wraps her finger and thumb beneath the crown, forming a tight ring.
“Arms behind your head, I said,” she commands as my fingers itch to roam my body, to do something.
Because something will diffuse my focus, something will allow me to not rocket off in approximately one minute.
But I don’t get something. Tucking my hands under my head, elbows out, I do as she says to make her happy. And I trust her. I do trust her.
Twisting, the ring she’s created with just two fingers begins to torture me. She slides her hand over the wet slit of my head, smoothing the precum into her palm as she does. Returning to the tight ring around me, she continues twisting and tightening .
My shaft flexes and bobs, but her grip around my cockhead keeps me steady. Precum bubbles from me with abundance, dripping over her thumb, down my length. The veins in my cock are alive and well tonight, and with each torturous twist of her hand, I swear I get harder.
There’s no blood in my brain right now, seriously.
“Does this feel good?” she asks, her voice smoky and low.
I nod, the pillows absorbing my subtle movement.
I feel like if I really move at all, the reality of this moment will cause me to topple over.
With the back of her curled knuckle, she begins massaging my balls and the private strip of skin leading me to my ass, all while still twisting a tight and torturous ring around my crown.
I let out a gasp when she releases the head of my cock, only to take my balls in both of her hands. Kneading, massaging, pressing them up against me, she plays with my sac for what feels like forever as precum pools on my belly.
Am I going to cum from her playing with my balls? All of me wants to flex my abs to divert some of the raw energy pumping down to my groin, to postpone the cascading orgasm surging up my legs and down my spine, coiling in my groin so tight I can barely breathe.
But she said to let myself enjoy it. And if I spend the next five minutes thinking of Salsa barfing on the floor and the history of the carburetor just trying not to cum, I won’t enjoy this.
And what if our lessons end? What if Delane meets a guy or is offered an actual apprenticeship at the Kings? She won’t need me. And I may lose this.
Untensing as much as possible, I keep my eyes pinned on her between my spread legs as she caresses and kneads my sac, my cock a monolith above my stomach.
When I pictured having an orgasm with Delane, I never imagined it like this. I always thought I’d be plunging into her mouth or sinking into her warmth as she wrapped her legs around my hips, but that’s another thing I like about Laney. Expecting the unexpected.
Torquing my balls just slightly, she grins at me through the partial darkness. “Your cock is beautiful, Miller.” She cants forward, the ends of her curls dusting my groin, making my stomach flex. She brings her lips to the glistening capped head of my cock, pressing them there.
As she does, she tugs my balls gently away from me, her tongue trailing the hard edge of my crown as she kisses my slick tip.
Oh my god. A mouth on my cock. Delane’s mouth on my cock.
The coil of desire in my groin unravels and my self-control is obliterated.
My orgasm charges through my veins, centering in my cock, pulsing with impatient need as I pant, “Laney,” in warning.
She sits up in time for the first rope of cum to glaze my chest and under my chin, and through the bliss, I stay alert, focused on her watching me shoot.
Hooded, glassy eyes watch as my cock erupts, threads of cum painting me and the pillow I’m lying on. It’s a total mess, and when I’m through, I’m surprised to see she’s as out of breath as I am.
“How was it?” she asks, finally sliding her hand down my shaft, stroking my cock for the first time ever.
My belly is riveted as my balls tingle, and I realize that for the first time, I think I’m going to cum again.
“Stroke me, Laney,” I beg, unbelieving that those words came out of me… out loud . But they did because her hand pumping my shaft, covered in cum, makes me think of dirty, salacious things.
Her teeth bite her lip as she wraps both hands around my erection, twisting and pumping them so slowly that my hips surge up off the mattress, yearning for more.
“Are you going to cum again?” she asks, her eyes wide with amazement, I think.
I can’t focus on anything but her hands wrapping my dick, thumbs not meeting her forefingers.
Precum and cum slide against my shaft, smeared by her hands.
When I look up and see her face flush, lips parted, eyes fixed on my cock with bated breath, I lose it.
“Laney,” I offer again in warning, and my plea makes her hands work my cock faster, harder, jacking me in a way that truly feels like I’ve died and gone to heaven.
My hips jolt up as I cum again, spraying my already coated chest with more and more sticky, thick release.
The second orgasm yields as much as the first, and when the last of my cum has coated me, Laney slowly lowers my softening cock to my groin, taking her hands away.
She grabs my hips, and my eyes roll closed with how good all of this feels. This entire night.
“You okay?” she croaks.
I manage to open one eye long enough to nod at her. “That was… the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
She lets out a soft laugh before her voice dips into seriousness. “Do you know how hot it was to watch you get lost in what I was doing and just enjoy it?”
The bed dips, and the weight distribution shifts as she brings herself to her knees, slowly getting off the bed.
She disappears into the bathroom, where I hear the sink.
Moments later, she returns with a damp bath towel and straddles me as she cleans the cum off my stomach.
Twisting the towel to find unused terry, she wipes below my chin and then my neck last. “You cum hard,” she smiles down at me, wiping the last of my release off the side of my throat, where the last ambitious shot went .
I’m about to tell her it’s because of her; that’s the reason I came so hard, emptying myself back to back. Her. Her hands. Her mouth. Just… her .
But I don’t get to. “Give that energy to the woman you want to be with, and I guarantee she’ll give you her heart.
” She smiles as she folds the cum-coated towel and gets off the bed again.
“Being sexually vulnerable shows that you’re focused on happiness.
Guys who are too embarrassed to let themselves be tested and teased…
they’re usually the guys who aren’t comfortable in their own skin. ”
She tosses the towel into the hamper and pulls my hoodie on. I love how it hovers just above her knees, making her look like she slept here. But as she pulls on her pants, I guess the idea that she would sleep here is… foolish. And not part of our deal.
“Got it,” I say, responding to her advice. A few minutes ago, I was on cloud nine, reeling from sharing such a personal thing with her. And now she’s telling me that the way I behaved–how I let myself enjoy that–is perfect for someone else.
I try not to let her words sink into my gut like a ship that can’t weather the storm, but they do.
Still, I force a smile and slide out of bed, grabbing some sweats and a hoodie for myself from my drawers.
She watches me tug them on, and then we leave my room together, her purposely and playfully bumping my shoulder in the hall as we head to the living room.