“I’m going to come.”
The warning goes right over her head as she continues to lick the flared head of my cock, her tongue tracing every curve. That familiar feeling starts at the base of my spine, spreading everywhere, my skin electrified, and I know without a doubt I’m going to come.
All over her pretty face if she doesn’t watch it.
“Wren,” I bite out.
She doesn’t move.
I warned her twice.
“Fuck,” I groan as my orgasm barrels down. All the air leaves my lungs and I choke out a strangled sound, that first spurt of cum hitting her on the cheek.
She jerks away from my cock, her eyes full of surprise as I keep coming, my body shuddering, completely overcome. I squeeze my shaft, just beneath the head, and one last drop falls before I’m spent.
The room is silent, only the sound of our heavy breaths in the air. I lost complete control, something I never do with a girl. I made a fucking mess. Of myself and Wren and the bed.
She touches her cheek, her fingers coming away cum-covered, and I nearly lose it when she brings them to her mouth and gives them a lick.
I don’t know if I’ll survive the weekend, let alone the night if she keeps this up.
THIRTY-SEVEN
WREN
We clean ourselves up and put our clothes back on before we order room service. The moment we shared still hangs heavily in my mind, though we haven’t really talked about it. And I have no idea how to approach the conversation so…
I don’t bring it up.
Can’t stop thinking about it, though. He seemed to lose all control earlier. He actually came on my face, which I think is an actual thing, from what I remember seeing on that one porn site the night I explored its category menu.
I didn’t mind, though it was shocking when it happened. I’m so curious about everything. All of it. It’s interesting, how internalized a woman’s orgasm is for the most part, while a man’s is incredibly obvious. To the point of exploding everywhere.
Literally.
Crew is so incredibly patient with me, and while my body is still aching for something only he can fulfill, I’m okay with waiting. I know more will happen between us. Tonight. Tomorrow.
Besides, I’m hungry.
Our food arrives relatively fast and we eat it in the living room, both of us sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, our backs leaning against the couch as we stuff our faces. We both got cheeseburgers, fries and Cokes, and I could tell Crew was pleased I didn’t order a salad.
Probably only because he wouldn’t have to share his meal with me again, like last time.
The fries are delicious and I keep dragging them in the puddle of ketchup on my plate, a little moan leaving me with every bite. Eventually I realize Crew has stopped eating and is watching me, his eyes slightly glazed over, his lips parted.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, my mouth kind of full, which is totally rude. I swallow it down, then wipe my mouth with a napkin.
“You’re so fucking sexy when you eat, Birdy. I can’t take it.” He leans in and grips the back of my head, pulling me in for a quick kiss. “I feel like everything you do is sexy as fuck.”
“I am not a sexy person,” I say primly, thinking of what we did not even forty-five minutes ago. Which was absolutely, one hundred percent sexy.
I still can’t believe I did it, but I couldn’t resist. Seeing him like that…he was just so big. I wanted to know what he tasted like. And while I didn’t give him a full-blown blow job, he seemed rather pleased with what I did do.
And I like that, pleasing him. Making him feel good, even though it’s scary and I worry I’ll make a mistake, I’m realizing that he seems to enjoy everything I do. I liked seeing the blissed-out expression on his face, and how he lost control. The sounds he made and the commanding way he took over. It was hot.
Sexy, like he says.
“Wren.” His voice is flat, and I glance over at him once again, frowning. “Please. You’re the sexiest woman I know.”
I sit up straighter, thrilled by his praise. At the way he called me a woman. I’m close enough to eighteen that I guess I should get used to that, though in some ways I still feel like a kid.
Not tonight though. Not even close.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
He pulls me in for another soft kiss, our meals soon forgotten as we lose ourselves in each other. Is this what the entire weekend is going to be like? We can’t do this so freely at school and maybe he feels all pent-up. As if his want for me is now spilling all over. On campus, I don’t want people to see us and I’m sure he doesn’t either.