Tatum
“Shane?”
He stood in the doorway, naked as a jaybird and scratching his navel as if he was all alone in the dorm room, enjoying a bachelor’s night at home between beers, burps, and farts, probably.
“Finally,” he chuckled, all dimples and mirth as two fresh beer bottles clinked in his hand. “I don’t like drinking alone.”
“Me either,” she murmured. She stretched atop his creaking double bed, and peered past him at the light coming in through the big picture window above. “Still plenty of daylight left, Hot Pants.”
“I’m counting on it, Sunshine.”
He sank onto the bed, knees first and then gradually shifting to a sitting position, the lumpy mattress roiling like a rough sea until she, too, sat up across from him, crossing her legs for more than just comfort. She watched his eyes drift down her body, hungry expression drinking in her small breasts and soft, plush belly, and hopefully, the ripe, thick lips that begged to be touched again, teased, and as he’d promised, sucked like a lollipop.
Not that she’d admit that to him, of course. At least, not until after a few sips of beer anyway. “What should we toast to this time?” she asked, wriggling where she sat and feeling the cold bottle in her hot little hand.
He waved the neck of his bottle toward the window at her back, warm sun caressing her bare shoulders and making her murmur anew with fresh, simmering desire. “To sunlight, of course.”
“And plenty of it,” she added, wondering just what her young, cocky lover had in store for her as the afternoon dragged on, one delicious sin at a time. They clinked bottles and she savored a cool, velvet sip between appreciative chuckles. She hadn’t been thirsty after their first toast. Correction: Tatum had been too desperately horny to do anything as innocent as drink a beer while in the same room with sweet, hot Shane. But now that they were lounging, naked and eager in bed once more, she drank deep from the cold, rich beer and let it soothe away what surely must have been the last of her inhibitions.
“How long were we out for?”
He shrugged, the slightest movement shaking the bed and pressing the lumpy mattress against her hungry, desperate sex. “Long enough for me to wake up with a hard-on, that’s for sure.”
She nearly spit out her beer. “Sorry I missed that,” she teased. She admired the way his perfect cock looked even when soft, smooth, and downturned, the purple head resting against his soft white sheets.
He shrugged and stretched like it was no big deal, his lean, wiry body splayed out like sex on a stick and the tidal wave of motion caressing her swollen sex in a way that made her want to ask him what brand it was. “This time ain’t about me, Missy, remember?”
He arched one teasing eyebrow as he sipped his beer greedily, as if he hadn’t had a drink in days. Then again, their stolen moments in the living room had left her rather parched as well. “You’ve already taken care of my, uh … needs, Big Guy. We can just relax, honestly.”
He swallowed the last of his beer, big fingers wrapped around the bottle as he set it down on his nightstand next to several others. “That what you led me in here for, girl? To relax?”
She squirmed at the way he was already stretching to all fours, prowling toward her like a panther on the hunt for prey. The way he pinned her with those eyes, so soft and young, and yet so all-knowing, like he could see each one of her lurid fantasies before she even thought of them. “I’d be lying if I said it was, Shane.”
“Well, me neither, so…” He nodded at the headboard behind her, a simple curved metal rod just perfect for holding onto, while, well … certain college freshman did their college freshman things to more than willing juniors who should have known better. Way better indeed.
“You lay down nice and purdy like you look and hold onto that headboard while I use my mouth to make you so happy you’ll lose count of just how happy I’ve made you.”
She chuckled nervously, even as she did as she was told, eagerly and far too quickly. Wishing she didn’t like being told so very, very much, and certainly not by someone so young and eager and willing, and from their first go-round, more than up to the task.
As Tatum gripped the headboard, finding the metal cool to the touch and far too natural for a (former) good girl such as herself, Shane continued to crawl toward her on the shaky, lumpy bed. It felt almost decadent lying down in the middle of it, raw and naked and hungrier than she’d ever been. And yet, from the looks of his steadily stiffening cock and the way he licked his lips hungrily, Shane was clearly enjoying himself as well.
When he had finally crawled all the way over her and they were face to face, Tatum flat on her depraved back and Shane peering down at her lovingly, she smiled up to see him so enraptured by whatever the hell it was he saw in her.
“Ready, baby?”
She nodded, then shook her head gently, biting her lower lip. “Have I ever told you that … that I love it when you call me ‘baby’?”
“No, and that’s honestly very sweet, but quit stallin’, girl!” There was a playful growl to his tone that sent shivers to her already quivering body, his face so close she could smell the beer and desire on his warm, sputtering breath.
“Sorry, I just … no one’s ever kissed me down there … before.”
His eyes widened. “What? Are you serious?”
“Would I lie about something like that?”
“I guess not,” he murmured quietly, nodding as if he understood. “But listen, there’s nothing to be nervous about, okay?” She nodded, wanting for all the word to cradle his sweet, tender face in her hands but unwilling to relinquish the sexy, almost scandalous way her hands felt clutching the headboard in wild, wanton anticipation. “And besides, once my tongue gets its groove on, the last thing you’re going to feel is nervous, trust me.”
“Cocky much?”
“Shit, girl,” he said and chuckled before silencing her with a savage, smothering kiss. “I learned to do this in the dark, feeling my way around so to speak. How much easier do you think it’s going to be when I can see every wrinkle and curve of your tight, pink pussy?”
“Oh, gosh!” Tatum cried, just before he smothered her silent with another thick, wilting kiss. “Damn, that velvet tongue of yours.”
“Just you wait,” he said playfully, kissing her more gently this time, and not just on her lips. He nuzzled her cheeks, turning her face from side to side before peppering her chin and jawline with increasingly tender sweeps of his thick, patient lips.
One powerful hand on either side of her body, Shane meandered along one bare shoulder until those sexy lips of his danced along the smooth, shaven expanse of her underarm, making her giggle with delight even as she squirmed with raw, naked desire.
“Fffuuuccckkkk,” she moaned steamily, wriggling with desire as Shane tempted and teased the sensitive, virgin flesh beneath her arms as if it was a sex organ she’d only just discovered, but he already knew all about. Her hands gripped the headboard, holding on for dear life as his firm lips and pressing tongue made short work of her crumbling resolve. “Damn, that’s good!”
He murmured something unintelligible, face buried in her other arm, treating it as tenderly and teasingly as he had the first, making her belly tight with desire and her tender mound fragrant with anticipation. She risked a glance down her squirming body, surprised to find her thighs spread wide, ass grinding into the squeaking mattress, the way she might be in her bed back home, alone, her naughty drawer open and a humming toy busy between her knowing fingers.
Only, this was so. Much. Better…
As soon as Tatum resigned herself to a gushing orgasm from Shane’s lips on her armpits alone, he shifted gears, and tenderly, slowly, drifted closer to her breasts. Swollen with desire and nipples stiff with the exotic sensations coursing through her body, Tatum was ripe for Shane’s particular brand of slow, teasing affection, stomach knotted with pent-up orgasms queuing up as if waiting to explode, one by one, once her core temperature reached a certain degree.
Between her fluttering eyelids and gasping murmurs of eager approval, Tatum glanced down to watch Shane’s damp, feathery curls dip and bob as he serviced her breasts, one to the next, feasting on them with his hot, firm lips as tender as they were tempting, and never more so than when he enrobed each breast with his entire mouth, sucking and applying just the right amount of pressure to whip her into a writhing frenzy, gasping with pleasure and gulping for air.
He spoke not a word, no more teasing or taunting, playful, even dirty one-liners. She missed his dirty talk but was more than happy with the way he was currently using his mouth, so didn’t dare complain!
Instead he merely drifted down her body, using his mouth the same way he had his fingers earlier, feathering her fluttering, soft midriff with tender kisses that led directly to the slick, sticky patch of pubic thatch that had never felt more tender and sensitive than when he pressed those plump lips against it as if mining it for the sweet nectar that flowed so freely mere inches below.
Now that he was so close to his real target, Shane had positioned himself between her thighs, sinking down onto the mattress so that it creaked and shook beneath him. His breath washed over her loins, thick and hot as if warning her of the overpowering sensations to come. And still he taunted her, kissing the soft, yielding flesh of her inner thigh, then the other, dancing between them like a spectator at a tennis match, until suddenly and without preamble, he planted one firm, swollen, tender kiss atop her clit.
She bucked in surprise, gasping with pleasure and never more so than when his entire mouth enrobed her swollen bud, bathing it in warmth even as his tongue lapped at it eagerly while his lips still held it firmly in place.
The bed frame shook as she gripped the headboard tighter, her body seizing with the rapturous sensation of swollen, tender heat. And then, just as her body threatened to betray her by climaxing too soon, he seemed to sense the crashing waves and slithered gently away, the noise sloppy and dirtily so, making her feel wicked and wanted by the way he slurped and savored her most intimate parts.
This was more than dutiful, more than foreplay, more than repaying a debt or ticking off a box. Shane’s adoration was evident, his attention to detail exquisite and his patience extraordinary. He seemed to sense just how long to linger as he lathered bawdy attention along the petals of her throbbing pussy, how deeply to slither his tongue just inside, how long to linger there before returning to base camp and applying just the right amount of pressure, heat, and circumference to her weeping bud.
In no time he had poor Tatum cursing like a sailor, white-knuckled as she gripped the metal headboard, the bed creaking beneath her desperate, writhing flanks as she warned him of the impending fireworks. He ignored her eagerly, using his tongue like a finger to tenderly caress and slither against her tender flesh until, until … she came. Again. Harder than the first time, harder than any time, until she thought her breathing might never return to normal, to say nothing of her heart rate.
Her curses littered the air, outmatched only by her squeals of passion, pleasure, and the desperate, stomach-clenching pain of desire so intense it actually physically hurt. But the bittersweet pain was nothing compared to the warm, syrupy heat that radiated through her trembling body, thighs clenched and frozen as the tremors coursed through every inch of her.
And still Shane lay, nestled between her thighs, breath warm, mouth slick, and tongue firm against every inch of her swollen sex, rippling and writhing with the aftershocks of her first climax. The next came quickly, suddenly, without warning, as if her body had betrayed her, or perhaps Shane had literally hacked her nervous system to wrest control away from her completely.
She gave it over willingly, eager to lie there, lost to the world, beyond all other senses, thighs spread, pussy wet, nipples hard and her earnest young lover patiently serving up climax after climax until her throat ached from squealing. Her fingers tingled from clenching, her thighs were rubber, her ass was chafed from writhing, and her poor, throbbing sex begging to be released from whatever hold Shane’s tender lips and probing tongue had over it!
It took every ounce of energy she had to squeeze her thighs shut just enough to prevent his face from moving another inch. “Ow,” he teased, making them both laugh as, at last, she released him.
He smiled up at her from between her legs, licking his lips lavishly as if savoring the last of her fragrant pussy liquor before he slowly, regally knelt between them. Their eyes met as she steadied herself, readjusting her hands and nodding suggestively between her legs.
“What?” he asked, his cock rock-hard and glistening at the tip.
“Fuck me, Shane.”