CHAPTER 2 #3
Peter not-so-gracefully dumps me onto the bed and crawls over. He gently slides the straps of my dress down, exposing my bare breasts. As he fondles them, his lips reconnect with mine. His tongue nudges my mouth open, and he explores wildly. Whatever makes him happy, I guess.
I push him off when he goes up for air. We can salvage this.
I stand and my dress falls to the ground.
I straddle his lap and pull his shirt off, throwing it on the floor.
He leans back as I unbutton his jeans. His dick springs up, eager to be free of his briefs.
I slide my finger beneath the waistband, ready to oblige―
I yelp as Peter flips me onto my back. He braces himself on an elbow and his other hand grabs my thigh.
“Hair! Hair!” I push on his arm, which was planted firmly on the strands of my hair. “You’re pulling my hair. Please move.”
“Fuck,” Peter curses. He adjusts and I relax as the pressure on my scalp subsides. His shoulders tense. It’s clear he’s getting frustrated with his performance.
“Here.” I slide off my thong and guide his fingers between my legs. I coach him on the best speed and shapes to make, and slowly, I start to enjoy myself. My eyes close, and I feel my back arch. A small moan escapes. Finally, we’re getting somewhere. He starts to experiment with his technique.
“No, no,” I murmur as the magic begins to fade. “Go back.”
“Trust me,” Peter says boastfully. Then he pinches my clit. Hard. Instinctively, my knee jerks up and nails his shoulder as I curl away from him. He rubs his shoulder in pain. “Ow, what was that for?”
“What was that for?” I stand up in disbelief. “For fuck’s sake! Stop trying to show off. I don’t need flashy, I just need to get off! Jesus.”
“I’m trying,” Peter whines. So attractive. I groan and turn back to him.
“You’re done.” I push him flat onto the bed. “Hands to yourself, no touching. I’ll take it from here.”
He protests feebly but goes quiet when I pull out a condom.
I discard his briefs and slide it on. His cock stands at attention, large enough to get the job done satisfactorily.
At least one part of him isn’t trying to fuck this up.
I lower myself onto his dick and grind, slowly and deliberately.
I brace myself against his knees to allow for full hip movement.
Relaxed, I throw my head back, fully embracing his shaft inside me. Man, this is what I needed.
“Oh god,” Peter cries. “Oh god, oh god, oh god!”
He did not.
“Did you just...” I cannot believe this. “It’s been like three seconds.”
I dismount and can’t stop from groaning when my fear is confirmed.
“Sorry,” Peter says sheepishly. “I can still help you get there though.”
“Forget it,” I fume. I grab a robe from the closet and cover myself. “Just go home.”
“No really,” he insists. “Let’s figure this out together.”
“I think you are misreading this situation.” Goddamn it. I hate when they get clingy. “This isn’t some sappy rom-com where we find the clit together. Get out so I can take care of this myself.” I don’t bother waiting for a response, instead I throw Peter his clothes.
“This isn’t fair,” Peter protests. “Give me a second chance.”
His hand darts out and grabs my arm. My training kicks in with the unexpected contact. I twist around, pinning his arm to his back, and shove him to the floor.
“Get dressed or I’ll kick your ass out naked,” I seethe. “I don’t care either way.”
With that, I lock myself into the bathroom and fill the tub. As I slide into the bath, I feel the muscles in my back loosen. The warm water soothes my shoulders. I lean my head back against the headrest, breathing a sigh of relief. Finally, it’s time for me to have some pleasure.
I start out slowly, using my fingers to make circles below my clit. Slow, meticulous circles. I can’t imagine how Peter couldn’t figure it out, Astrid always knew exactly what to do.
Shit, don’t think about her. Think about yourself. Enjoy the feeling of the sensation.
I resume the circles a little faster this time, as if my fingers could distract me from her.
I’ve been waiting to touch you for weeks.
We’re on her dining room table. She’s straddling my lap, coming up for air.
Her voice sounds like caramelized honey, so sweet yet so dark.
To feel your body against mine, run my fingers through your hair, to learn how you taste.
My flannel has fallen off my shoulders, but it’s not stopping me from exploring every inch of her body. I am reveling in every fucking moment.
Wait, no! I’m thinking about her again. Fuck! I don’t need her, I can get off by myself. My eyes roll to the back of my head as my fingers make contact with my clit. I allow my moans to pass freely, loud and unrestrained.
I earn every sound that crosses those lips. Her voice plays through my head again. Don’t keep my prizes from me.
Fuck it.
I lean in, giving myself permission to think of Astrid. Riding my motorcycle, her hands inching up my thighs. Oh god. Smearing pink and blue body paint on each other until it turned purple. Oh god. Her eager smile from between my thighs. Oh god. Kissing in the snow on Christmas. Oh god!
My core clenches as a wave of euphoria washes over me. As I soak in the final moments of my ecstasy, I pretend that I don’t notice the memory that pushed me over the edge.
I love you .