5. Duncan #2
Rune took all of that, too, but then she had to back away with a gasp, panting for breath even as yet more cum spurted out of me and dribbled down my length.
Grasping my cock at the base, she licked up my shaft, greedily licking away the rivulet of cum before suctioning around my head again, tongue swirling my tip, one hand cupping my balls with a tender squeeze.
I couldn't come anymore, then, but she didn't stop trying to elicit every last drop, pumping and sucking and licking until I was going slack in her hands.
Only then did she release me, and I sagged to my ass on the carpet, sweating and panting. "Holy shit."
She sat astride me, sex on my now-flaccid cock, grinning at me. “Hi."
I could only stare. "Holy shit," I repeated.
She giggled, which did unholy and incredible things to her tits. "You said that already."
“Bears repeating," I said. “That was…holy shit ."
"That's how I felt after you were done," she answered. "Turnabout is fair play."
"I don't think that's what that phrase means," I said. "But I'll take it."
I cupped her cheek, pulled her close. "Kiss me."
She resisted, pulling away. "I have cum-breath."
I grinned. "I know."
“It's not—" She frowned. "You don't think it's gross?"
I leaned into her, cupping the back of her neck and claiming her mouth in a long, hard, scorching kiss.
I tasted myself on her, yes. But I tasted her on my own breath, as well.
Tasted her on my lips. Tasted our mingled essences.
I scoured her mouth with my tongue, kissed her until she drew away with a gasp.
"Gonna turn me on again," she said.
"That's the point." I relented, however, sensing she had something on her mind. "Did someone say something to you? A boyfriend or something?"
"About what?"
"About not kissing you after you've gone down on him."
She looked away, tried to pull away, tried to slide off me. "Don’t worry about it."
I held her in place. "Hey, no. Nope. Talk to me."
She shrugged, still looking away. "Doesn't matter."
"It does to me."
"I just…" she sighed. "Historically, I have absolutely terrible taste in men."
"So that's a yes. Some jackass said something." I tilted her face so she had to look at me. "Rune, listen to me."
She pulled away forcefully, and I had no choice but to let her go. "It doesn’t matter. Old news." She sat on the floor beside me. "Men just suck. Present company excluded…so far."
I laughed. "Considering some of the stories my girl cousins have told, I'm inclined to agree that men do seem to suck."
She shrugged. "You're different, so far."
I scooped her onto my lap and stood up, went to the side of the bed, and sat down with her on my lap. "Tell me. Please."
She shook her head. “You don't want to hear about that shit.”
"Maybe I do."
"Then you're a weirdo."
"I am a weirdo, and I do want to hear about it, if only so we can agree about what a fucking loser that guy was."
She sighed. "If we talk about this while I'm all…” she wriggled her shoulders. "Into you, or whatever, I’m liable to cry."
"That's okay. I'm not afraid of a few tears."
She sighed again and slid off me, but I captured her again and nestled her on my chest.
Eventually, she groaned in annoyed capitulation. “Fine. He was a jackass. End of story."
"Rune."
"We just had the hottest not-sex of my life, and now you wanna talk about old painful shit?" She snorted. "This was fun, Duncan, but you don't need to pretend it’s something it’s not.”
I hated the sudden rush of complex feelings her words riled up inside me—hurt, anger, pride, curiosity, jealousy.
"Hottest not-sex of your life, huh?" I asked, faking a lightness I didn't feel.
She shrugged, rolled away from me, and sat up, pulling the sheet up and tucking it under her arms. "Yup."
"What's not-sex?"
She didn't look at me. "Well…that." She gestured with a flip of her hand at the edge of the bed. "Messing around. Sex, but not actual sex."
"I see." I sat up and turned toward her. "It's not gross."
She rolled her eyes. "You don't need to prove anything."
"I'm not." I paused, frowning. "But actually, I do."
"No, you don't."
“Yes, I do." I tapped the side of her chin. "Look at me."
She rolled her eyes again, but did meet my eyes. “ What , Duncan? He was an asshole. It's fine."
“It's not fine!” I said, my tone heated. “It was the first thing you thought of when I went to kiss you after. You still think about it now, however long it’s been since he said whatever the fuck it was he said.”
"Of course I do!" she said, not quite yelling but speaking intensely. "I was on my period, and Hayes was horny. I'm not into period sex, so I went down on him."
"Lucky motherfucker," I muttered.
She hesitated. “I did it to be nice. I cared about him." Another hesitation. "I loved him. Or I thought I did, at least.”
I sighed. "I'm already pissed off on your behalf."
She snorted. "I'm plenty pissed off on my own behalf, for that and for so many other reasons, but mainly for wasting so much of my time, attention, and love on Hayes Motherfucking Willoughby."
"So…what did he say?"
Her voice was small. Hurt. "I…you know. Gave him a B-J. Admittedly, it wasn't my best work—definitely not on par with what I just gave you, but I still did my best to make him feel good." She swallowed hard, audibly. "You have a sister, right?"
I nodded. "Two, sort of."
She frowned at me. "Sort of?"
"Well, my sister Delia's best friend, Emerson, is…
well, it's complicated. She grew up with us.
She had a very broken home situation, and my parents took her in as one of our own.
She's always been like a sister to us. But then two Christmases ago, she took our last name, and my parents officially adopted her.”
Rune sniffled. "So unbeknownst to each other, Emerson took your family's last name, and your family adopted her?"
I nodded. "Yup."
"That's the most adorable thing I've ever heard."
"So, when I say sort of, I only mean that I have one biological sister and one adopted sister. Sunni is my sister in every way that matters."
"I thought her name was Emerson?"
I laughed. "Oh, yeah, it is. We just all call her Sunni, S-U-N-N-I. Her last name is Day, plus Emer- son …Sunni. I dunno, Delia gave her the nickname years ago and it just stuck.” I squeezed her. "You're not fooling anyone, by the way."
She gazed up at me with wide, innocent eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"You asked about my sisters. But we're not getting away from the real topic at hand—what Hayes Motherfucking Willoughby said to you."
She sighed, a long, angry, bitter sound. "My point in asking about your sisters wasn't to distract from the answer. Although I wouldn't mind if it did. I don't want to talk about this."
"Too damn bad," I said.
"If you have sisters, then you're probably aware of the reality of what periods are like. Men who don't grow up around girls often have no fucking clue about periods."
I nodded. "I do understand, as much as a dude can, obviously. Delia and Emerson have always been very open about it. They'll complain about their cramps and describe in way too much detail how it looks like a cat got shot in their underwear."
She cackled. "So you know a period isn't exactly fun."
"Uh, yeah. It’s a week of hell and misery every month, by all accounts."
"Right. Hell, misery, blood, and pain.” She shrugged. “I’ve always had heavy periods. Lots of blood, lots of cramps. Not a sexy thing to talk about, I know, but you insisted."
"I did," I said. "And it's fine. This is pillow talk. It doesn't have to be sexy."
“You’re such a weirdo.” She sighed again. "So anyway, that day, I was feeling particularly shitty. Heavy flow, bad cramps, all the fun stuff. But he'd been whining for days about how horny he was, how long it had been since we had sex, blah blah blah."
I scoffed. "Had it been longer than a month?"
Rune snorted derisively. "A month ? Try less than a week! We’d just had sex the day my period started. It made it start as a matter of fact.”
"Fucking hell, what a selfish tool."
She shook her head. "I really, really didn't feel like it. But he was just so fucking whiny and pathetic about it, and I did love him, and I figured I'd do something nice. Take care of him. You know?"
"What the fuck did he say, Rune?" I demanded.
"After I was done, he patted me on the head like a fucking dog and said, ‘That was great, babe, thanks. I feel better now.'"
"I literally cannot roll my eyes any harder."
"Right?" She scoffed again, disgusted. "I'd have been fine if that was the end of it. The head pat? Condescending and massively shitty, but at least he said thank you when I did something I very much did not want to do just to make my boyfriend feel better."
"But that wasn't the end of it."
"Oh no. No, no, no. It was not. I got up, intending to go, you know, rinse my mouth out. Maybe brush my teeth. Not that he tasted bad or anything, I just—"
I touched her lips. "You don't need to explain or justify a damn thing, Rune.”
She playfully nipped at my fingers, and then continued.
“I went to kiss him. I wasn't, like, gonna open-mouth French kiss him or anything, just a quick little kiss on the way to the bathroom.
" Again, the small, hurt voice. "He turned his face away.
Denied me the kiss. He said, and I quote verbatim, because I'll never fucking forget it as long as I live, ‘You just swallowed my cum, Rune. That's gross. Why would I kiss you after that? Who wants to kiss a girl with cum-breath?’”
I blinked in stunned silence. "Bullshit. There's no fucking way he said that out loud."
She laughed, but it was bitter. "Oh, but he did. He absolutely said that to me."
"And he's still alive?" I asked, not really faking the disbelief. "The girls in my family? Some dumbfuck says something like that, he ain't walking away. If she didn’t murder him, the rest of us would. Do not fuck with the Badd Clan. You come for one of us, you get all of us."