52. tallulah
TALLULAH
THANK ME
It was now or never. With a deep breath, I set my phone on the desk in the small hallway outside the bathroom and walked out. Nick was standing, waiting for me, and he stared, his eyes drifting down my body, his voice throaty. “Hooooly shit—”
I couldn’t falter. If I did, the anxiety would win. I walked to him, getting into his space. Nick took an automatic step back, and I took advantage of it, shoving him to the bed. He thumped back, sitting on the edge, a surprised grin crossing his face.
His hands were on me instantly as I climbed into his lap.
“Don’t touch,” I told him, brushing his hands away.
He paused. “Don’t touch? Wait, why?”
I didn’t answer, I unbuttoned his jeans. I needed to know how much Nick liked this, how much he wanted this. If I couldn’t feel that, I’d lose what little courage I had. I shrugged his jeans down a little.
“You don’t get to touch anywhere except…” I trailed off, breathless from nervousness and the heat in Nick’s gaze. I picked up his hands, placing them at my hips. “Here.”
He stroked the skirt’s fabric, pressing into my skin. His breath hitched in his throat. I affected him as much as he affected me, it’d never been so obvious.
The song melted into the next, something so sensual and slow, my hips naturally rolled to the underlying beat. Nick’s lips parted watching me as I hovered above him, taking his face in my hands, like I meant to kiss him. He inched towards me, his lips close to mine.
Just as slow as the song, I skimmed my lips over his, only offering the barest of sensations. All his focus was on me with those dark eyes of his.
I trailed my fingernails along his throat. “You’re so gorgeous.”
“What?” he managed.
“You heard me.”
Nick blushed, his tan skin flushing darker and darker under my gaze. He didn’t seem to know what to say. He was panting, his breathing unsteady as I rocked against him. Grinding into him, I could feel it. His cock, stiff to the touch, pressed against his boxers.
His groan was low and rumbling, shaky in his throat.
That was it, the secret to this. I didn’t want to give him satisfaction. I wanted to tease him, frustrate him, tempt him, it was so much sweeter.
With a smile, I turned around until my ass was in his lap, my body pressed into him, rubbing against him in any way that felt good for me. I fisted his hair to press his cheek to mine. He gasped, his hands unsteady on my hips.
“Tallulah…” he whined.
I took his hands, placing them on the underside of the shirt. “You can take the shirt off.”
“Can I take off your bra?”
“No.”
His sounds of dissatisfaction, of muttered curses, made pleasure pool inside me. He slipped off my shirt.
“If I can’t take it off, can I touch?” he pressed.
“What do you want to touch?” I murmured.
His hands skimmed my stomach, the skin below my bra, and slipped under the fabric of the bra, cupping my breasts. I gasped in surprise as he kneaded them, grinding me against his cock. “These.”
“I—I didn’t say you could do that—” I panted.
“Your nipples are so hard,” he cooed. “Your body wants it.”
We weren’t supposed to kiss yet, we weren’t, but Nick was right there. My back to his chest, his lips so close, I was in a trance. His lips coaxed my mouth open, his tongue tasting me.
The dance was slowing down and not in the way I wanted. My attention elsewhere. To his hands exploring me, tugging, pulling, cupping me. To him touching me any way he wanted. Nick deepened the kiss, locking me to him, like I wasn’t allowed to leave.
His words were low. “What panties are you wearing?”
“I’m not wearing any,” I whispered.
He stopped kissing me and his hands stilled. His eyes flashed with fire. “Lap dance is finished.”
“I’m not done—”
He flipped me on the bed, and I heard him kicking off his jeans, his boxers. Before I could glance over, he covered my body with his, both of us on all fours. It was perfect.
His hard cock brushed against my ass, my body jumping at the sensation, at how stimulated he had me. Nick looped an arm around my stomach, pulling me to him. He tugged on the skirt. “Tell me to rip your tights.”
“My—my tights?” I breathed out.
“I’ll buy you a new pair, tell me to rip them.”
“You can’t, they’re too thick—”
“Tell me to rip them.”
“Nick, you won’t be able to—”
He dipped down to my ear, his voice a growl. “Tell me to rip them. I want to hear it.”
I arched to his voice, pressing back against him. I was nodding before I realized I was nodding, finding it hard to speak. “Rip—rip my tights—”
He stroked me through the tights, and I gasped at his touch. Shifting over me, he pulled at them. He couldn’t rip them. They were expensive, a great material, there was no way he could—
The fabric tightened against my skin, pinching my thighs before a sharp tear tore them.
My mouth fell open. I stared at the blankets in disbelief, arousal pounding in my ears, pulsing in my veins. “Oh my god—”
Before I could finish, he guided me back to ease his cock inside.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I choked out, thighs trembling.
It was Nick’s turn to roll his hips. “There we go,” he muttered. “This pussy is so perfect.”
My eyes rolled, it was so good, but I wanted to tease him further. “Do you want to cum inside me—?”
“I am going to cum inside you,” he interjected.
“You think so?” I breathed out.
“I know so.”
Nick worked in a rough rhythm, fucking me on all fours, taking me in a way that I could feel my orgasm on the back of my tongue. My body pulsed for him, wanting him, needing him, but I couldn’t hold back my other desires for him.
“You have to do something for me,” I rasped.
“Anything,” he promised.
“You—you either—” I moaned as Nick slowed his pace, fucking me deeper. “You either let me go back to the lap dance or…”
“Or?”
“You cum inside me…” a shudder raced through me, “…and I get to sit on your face after.”
Nick stopped, his cock buried inside me. I gasped at the fullness, at the position I couldn’t move from. He had me trapped beneath his limbs, trembling.
And what I said was too far.
It was too much. We hadn’t even talked about it. I flushed with my confession, it was something I wanted from him, and I’d never been able to say it. That I wanted his tongue inside of me, to taste our cum mixed together.
I could feel the heat of his body as he lowered to me, his hard breath at my ear. “Are you serious?”
I couldn’t have blushed harder. “Um—”
“You think that’d stop me?” he asked, his question smooth, like his words were dripping over my body. “I’m a man, Tallulah. If I get to cum inside of you, I don’t care what you want from me. I’ll do it.”
The blush seared across my skin, making me dizzy. Oh my god, he was everything I needed.
“You want to drip our cum on me?” he continued. “You want to watch me lick it up? How long were you waiting to ask?”
His exhale, his throaty, pleased exhale, rose goosebumps across my skin. He fucked me hard, fucking me into the mattress until I couldn’t keep on all fours, I was pushed further into the mattress, my climax close.
“What else do you want to ask?” he demanded.
Tears sprang to my eyes, the pleasure was unsurmountable. “I—I want drunk sex—”
“I know.”
“I want rough, drunk sex,” I confessed. “I want it, I want it, I want it—”
“Tallulah, I get demanding when I’m drunk—”
I nodded eagerly. “I know—”
“I thought you were a good girl,” he breathed out, nipping my ear, his chest pressed to my back, muscles flexing against me. “Now I know better. You’re my good girl.”
I nodded harder, reaching up for his hair, keeping him close to me. Our bodies were tangled together, and I refused to let him go.
“I’ll fuck you how my sweetheart wants it,” he promised, grinding into me. “Overstimulating sex. I’ll have you drooling on the blankets, eyes crossed. I’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll forget your own name.”
“Yes,” I whined, desperate.
“But you won’t forget mine,” he swore. “Because my name’s the only thing you’ll be allowed to say.”
The climax whirled into me, taking my breath with it as I curled underneath him. I gasped, the orgasm bringing me higher and higher, until his name rushed from my lips, tore from my throat, and Nick clapped a hand over my mouth.
His hips jerked, moving instinctually, spilling deep inside me. He held me to him, cock twitching inside me, giving me everything he had.
Slowly, he eased out of me, and I moaned, slumped against the blankets.
I couldn’t move. Not an inch.
Nick took deep, steady breaths, still upright. I didn’t know how. “Tallulah, you need to sit up.”
“Uhhh?” I said.
He came close, his chin resting on my arm, his words low. “You’re going to sit on my face, remember?”
That was something I said in the heat of the moment, from a very horny Tallulah who didn’t realize how much the orgasm would take from her. I shook my head as much as I could, about half an inch. “Too tired. Sensitive. No can do.”
“You made a deal.”
My eyes slid to his. He was tired too, his face dewy with sweat, but once again, he wasn’t joking.
“I can’t,” I whispered, flushed. My body couldn’t handle sex again, I knew that, yet my pulse picked up. “I—I really can’t.”
He gazed back at me, impassive. “Then you can’t do drunk sex.”
“What?”
“If you can’t handle something like this, you can’t handle drunk sex. We’re not going to do it.”
Oh, he knew how to push my buttons. Immediately, I narrowed my eyes, frustrated that he doubted me, that he would take away one of my sex dreams without so much as a conversation.
Frustrated and enticed by the challenge, even if the rational part of my brain had a sound argument.
Any pleasure at this point would be too much. I’d probably go into shock.
He arched an eyebrow, daring me on. “Tallulah? What’s our safe word?”
“Why don’t you tell me?” I retorted, my voice a breathless whisper.
“I’m not the one who can’t handle this.”
“Neither am I.”
“Don’t be bratty,” he warned, eyes gleaming. “I’m giving you an out for something you’re obviously not ready for.”
“Is that why you’re stalling? You’re not ready to lick up cum? Is that too far for you?”
“Too far?” he demanded. He grasped my hip, digging his fingers into my skin, yanking me over.
The breath whisked out of me, and I found myself on my back.
Head whirling. Breaths shallow. Watching, stunned, as Nick dipped down, fingers wrapping around my thigh to give me one firm lick, burying his tongue between my legs.
“Fuck!” I choked out, back arching off the bed. The sensitivity made me see stars, made me clench the blankets.
On instinct, I jerked away from him, and Nick dragged me closer, tongue fucking deep inside me.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” shot out of me, thighs trembling against him.
He emerged, a hand splayed across my stomach. “Safe word.”
I shook my head hard. “No.”
“Tallulah—”
“Do I get drunk sex if we do this?” I demanded. “Will you finally give it to me? No holding back?”
His dark eyes were piercing. “If you cum from this, yes.”
“Done,” rushed out of me. “You agreed to it, the deal’s done!”
“But—”
“Don’t say some bullshit about looking after me and taking care of me—I’m not fragile!
” The sensations pushed me over the brink, everything was so intense.
I couldn’t hide the plea in my words. “For me, drunk sex is everything I’m not.
I’m a rule follower, I plan things, I’m risk adverse.
Drunk sex together is like the highest form of me testing my own limits, and it’s so hot.
Both of us impatient and frenzied for each other, no inhibitions.
I trust you implicitly, Nick. I want everything with you, drunk sex included. ”
“I’m worried you won’t like it,” he said softly. “You’ve built it up so much, I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“Can we try? Please?”
Slowly, he nodded. “Not black-out drunk. And you can’t handle your liquor, so you won’t drink more than a couple of shots. You need to eat beforehand. It has to be on campus in case we have an emergency and someone falls and hits their head or something. And—”
“I don’t care about the logistics,” I blurted out. “Are we going to have drunk sex?”
“Yes,” he finally said.
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
“Fuck yes,” I breathed out. “Finally!”
His lips ticked up a grin. “You really are a succubus.”
I was delirious with pleasure, overwhelmed that we could finally check that off together. Anticipation thrummed through my veins as Nick lowered himself. This was another chance for me to end this. He was waiting for our safe word, waiting for me to stop him. I didn’t want to.
Nick was right. If I really wanted overwhelming, overstimulating sex, it started here. If I couldn’t do this, I couldn’t do what I’d been fantasizing about.
Nick used the flat of his tongue, licking me, and the sensation rushed up my spine.
“Fuck,” I moaned. “Fuuuuck.”
The pleasure from this collided with the deep love I had for him, pulsing inside. Nick took his time, lapping at me, doing all of those little tricks. He knew how to make my clit fall in love with him, and I was melting in the bed. This was too much after sex. I sank into the sensations, moaning.
Nick stilled, his fingers trailing up my thigh. “Thank me.”
“Th—thank you,” I breathed out.
“Thank me properly.”
It was instantaneous. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“You can do this,” he promised. “And if you do, you’ll get everything you want.”
His offer was so tantalizing, I couldn’t refuse. My heart thudded as Nick settled in, eating me out at a leisurely, slow pace. It was too much and just right all at once.
Tears trickled down. “I—I love you—”
“I love you more,” he told me, rubbing his cheek to my thigh.
“That’s impossible.”
“No, it’s not,” he murmured. “When we get back to Houston, I’m going to make you fall in love with me all over again.”