14
ERICA
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"Love and Happiness" by Al Green drifts from my phone speakers, that slow, velvet groove wrapping around the quiet apartment like smoke. Even through the fog of exhaustion, my body stirs under King's hands.
At first I thought it was all a dream, that I was still sleeping back at the youth camp in my cabin. But after the cold bath, I started to feel a little better. Still extremely exhausted… but King is here.
And he’s touching me?
I literally thought this couldn’t be reality, but holy shit… this is actually happening.
Both of King's hands feel warm on my legs, palms broad against the backs of my thighs. He starts low, fingers slipping beneath the curve where thigh meets ass, then glides upward in long strokes, working the lotion deep into my fevered skin.
He circles my knees with gentle pressure, thumbs pressing into the hollows behind them, before trailing back up, higher each time, toward my wet crease.
The motion is hypnotic in its slowness.
His hands move to skim the tops of my thighs, then dip inward, thumbs brushing the sensitive inner crease, parting my legs just enough that the air kisses my bare pussy.
Each pass, his thumbs graze the outer edges of my labia, feather-light, almost accidental, sending tiny shocks through my entire body before his palms sweep downward again, repeating the cycle.
Up my outer thighs, thumbs teasing the inner seam of me, a fleeting brush against my pussy lips, then retreat.
He’s moving so slowly it almost lulls me, like he’s deliberately drawing everything out, either trying to soothe me into sleep or trying to wind me up until I can’t stand it.
So good. Damn, King.
Before, my skin was hurting. Now? It’s paradise.
I mean, it’s not the first time King’s hands have been under my shirt. But this is next level. Why is he even here taking care of me? It feels good though.
There are no panties on me, and my shaved pussy is becoming soaked. My gaze drifts to King. He’s utterly focused on the job, eyes locked on his own hands and the glistening skin between my thighs. The concentration on his face is almost severe.
Man , he looks sexy.
His face and ears are so red. With the apartment so quiet except for the central air, I can hear him breathing hard while he looks at me down there.
He’s on his knees. He apparently repositioned himself; still on his knees but now almost sitting on my left lower leg, straddling it, probably so he can get a better view or better reach.
Now that I’m feeling a little bit better, my instinct to fuck takes over. Tiredly, I smile. My head is still swimming, but this is a new kind of heat that I feel.
My eyes never leave him as I steadily and slowly open my legs very wide. Knees bend, thighs fall open, giving him an unobstructed view of everything.
King freezes. His chest rises on a deep, shaky inhale; his bottom lip drags between his teeth; his eyelids flutter like he’s fighting to stay composed. I watch his pupils blow wide in those storm-gray eyes, dark and helpless.
Damn, seeing him like this does something to me.
Now he can partially see inside of me.
His jaw tenses as he continues rubbing the lotion on me, even though I’m pretty sure there’s no more lotion to rub.
All of the tips of his fingers except his thumb brush against my labia and the wetness on it. His eyes close, and I know he feels it.
His eyes find mine. His face is so red. We hold each other’s eyes, and it’s like he can’t look away until he breaks the tension and says abruptly, “You’re all good.”
How disappointing.
“Okay,” I whisper, disappointment in my voice, my crotch still hungry for anything he can give me.
King exhales. “Your skin… should be… moist.”
“Okay,” I murmur. “I’m already feeling a little better.”
“Good,” he says, then tilts his head back and stares at the ceiling as he pushes off the bed.
When he does, I can see that dude is hard as a rock.
He lets out a long breath.
“Are you going to leave?” My voice comes out small, almost sad. “I want you to stay. Will you sleep beside me?”
“No,” he answers. “Not while you’re like this.”
“I don’t want to be alone.”
King just stares at me as if he is short-circuiting and has no idea what to say or do, just frozen standing there with his dick as bricked up and in agony as I am.
He shakes his head slowly, looking down at his feet.
I know what I’m doing to him, and I don’t care. He looks conflicted.
“If I’m going to stay here…” he says quietly, “…we need to pray.”
“Okay,” I breathe, weak but hopeful.
He climbs onto the bed. I shift to make room, scooting over so he can settle on the right side.
“You can take off your pants,” I tell him.
“No,” he says immediately.
“Yeah, but they’re all scratchy and stuff.”
“I’m going to stay on top of the covers,” he answers.
“Me too,” I state.
Resting on my left side facing him, I close my eyes and smile in content.
“Ugh, I feel so weak,” I murmur, fighting sleep.
The serene sensation of King stroking my hair feels familiar, the same way I did to him when he was in the hospital. Gentle fingers combing through my locs, soothing, steady.
“Hold on, I’ll be right back,” he says, slipping off the mattress.
He heads to the bathroom, probably putting my wet underwear in the hamper, and comes back.
“Move over,” he says.
“Why?” I ask.
“I want to lay on this side,” he tells me.
The man has been taking care of me, so if he wants the left side of the bed, then he can have it.
I scooch over, then roll onto my back as he settles down onto the mattress to my right.
King holds my hand and then begins to pray.
“God please… I pray that Erica will feel better… Keep us safe from temptation… And from every arrow the devil would throw in our direction. You are worthy of all praise and all glory. Thank you. Thank you, God Almighty in Jesus name.”
And as if to mock us, the next song queues up.
“Or Nah” by The Weeknd.
I’ve fucked to this track before.
Tension just permeates the room, especially with the lyrics of the song, and I’m actually surprised that King is not telling me to change it or turn it off.
My whole body feels on fire, a fever that can only be put out by King’s thermometer. I’m so wet, the slickness between my legs making every small shift feel overstimulated.
Lying on my back, I hump slightly, the shirt pulled only a little bit past my upper thigh but my pussy still open to the air, wanting and needing.
King puts his hand on my stomach, and I arch my back like a cat in heat. He flinches.
“Go to sleep,” he whispers, still braced on his left elbow, watching me. I’m flat on my back, his warm palm resting on my stomach.
But I can’t stop moving my hips in circles, feeling the wetness of my vagina lips rubbing against each other as I move this way.
King exhales as he lays down fully on his left side, no longer propped up by his elbow, his forehead against the right side of my face, his breath on the right side of my neck, his warm hand still flat on my belly, thumb moving in a slight caress.
“Mmm, Erica, we can’t do this. It’s… it’s wrong,” he groans, as if this is painful for him.
“Okay then you don’t have to, it’s fine,” I hiss in a voice laced with desire. “I know. I don’t want you to sin, King,” I confess, skin burning while I sensually writhe.
His mouth hovers inches from my neck, so close I feel the heat of every exhaled word.
“I can’t… I can’t,” he whispers right into the soft skin under my jaw.
King might be saying one thing, but his body is saying another.
His right hand starts sliding off my belly and down lower. A gasp of unexpected pleasure shoots out of me as his hand cups my vagina and oh my God.
My clitoris nudges against his finger, and the both of us inhale deeply. Reaching over with my right hand, I feel his erection.
He’s so hard.
So large.
So ready.
The man is like steel. I can’t help it.
My hand has a mind of its own and starts stroking him through his pants. His penis throbs non-stop.
Being this close to him, his chest now pushing into my right arm, I can feel his heart slamming. I need to feel him.
It’s all I’ve wanted.
I need this so bad.
My hand lets go of him only for a moment to dip below his pants.
The way his erection is adjusted, it’s sticking straight up, almost crawling out of the waistband of his pants, so it doesn’t take much for me to find the tip.
SO THICK! It actually fills out my hand so much I can’t fully wrap around it.
It’s wet and slick with his pre. I’m holding it, my fingers pointed towards his balls like I’m performing a handshake with his shaft, but stroking instead.
“Oh King. You feel… so good,” my words catch as I momentarily forget how to breathe, and the sound of that causes him to whimper in response.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he says in words that come out like he’s choking back this monster that he doesn’t want to let out.
The way King is touching my pussy is perfect and divine, like he knows what he is doing. His fingertips roll around in torturous circles over my clit, making me feel a bright sensation of ecstasy.
I want to kiss him but I’m afraid to move, that he’ll ruin his trance.
Rubbing his cock inside his pants, I jerk him slowly like I’m holding a large flashlight. King, sweet, beautiful King, humps slowly into my grip, helping me with every downstroke, breathing against my neck, still playing with my pussy.
That wonderful masculine sound of his breathing becomes a little bit more high-pitched and faster, more edged with desperation, letting me know he’s almost there.
In just under a minute he whimpers and breathes even faster, almost hyperventilating, his cock fluttering now as he holds his breath and then releases, moaning like he’s fully lost control, his breath of elation released right against my neck in hot bursts.
I feel the hot sensation of King coming in my hand as I slow, followed by him growling loud against my neck and shivering. After what feels like a lot of cum shooting out, King suddenly gasps loud and fast, panting like it was really good.
His hand against my pussy is shaking, but he continues moving, playfully pinching my clitoris and then sticking his two fingers inside of me while using his thumb to move around my clitoris in a circle, like he’s done this before.
The technique is so fucking good that I feel my orgasm rushing in really fast.
He breathes into my ear, biting the lobe lightly, and I arch my back off the mattress, my legs opening wider, shaking like an earthquake as I scream out, still holding on to King’s dick, wet with his ejaculation.
My eyelids shut so tight that I feel as though I’m going to push my eyeballs further back into my skull.
The gratification and the waves of bliss that course through me are so out of this world that I swear when I open my eyes I’ll wake up and see that it was all a dream, but it’s not.
Sweet heavenly choir that I can almost hear singing in the back of my mind… that was so good and it was real.