Page 213
Story: The Friend Situation
Right now, I have to feel every inch of him deep inside of me. Our lips brush together in a kiss, and it makes me ache for even more.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers against my mouth, his voice full of need.
His hands slide over my hips, and he parts my thighs. Light fingers skim over my sensitive pussy. Somehow, I keep the moan buried deep in my throat.
“Make love to me,” I whisper, reaching for him.
“Is that what you want?” he asks, his breath hot against my ear as his fingers tease my hard nub.
“It’s what I need,” I say. My mind spins, my body is on fire, and every nerve ending in my body screams for him, all of him.
“It’s the closest I can be to you,” I breathe out, barely audible, but he hears them. He always hears them.
Weston moves between my legs, kissing and licking up my pussy before hovering above me. I part my thighs wide, and his cock already eagerly waits at my entrance. Reaching forward, I wrap my hand around him, feeling the thick, hot weight in my palm. I guide him to where I need him most.
In one long, slow thrust, Weston pushes inside me, making my toes curl.
“Wes,” I whisper, my breath catching in my throat as he pushes deeper.
My head falls back on the pillow as he rocks his hips in rhythm with mine. I grow overwhelmed with pleasure as I hear his ragged breaths in my ear. Together, we’re utterly perfect.
His hands and mouth are everywhere like he’s memorizing me with admiration. His hand slides down to grip my hips as he fucks me with a tenderness that makes my heart ache.
This isn’t just sex. It’s raw and real and so intimate that it leaves me breathless.
I wasn’t prepared to feel this with him.
“I love you,” he whispers against my skin, his lips brushing against the curve of my neck as he thrusts into me again.
My body tightens around him as pleasure builds deep inside me.
“I love you too,” I gasp, my nails digging into his back as I get closer and closer to the edge.
He shifts his hips slightly, the angle changing just enough to make me see stars. I whimper, knowing I need to stay quiet as the orgasm pulls me under.
“Wes, more,” I whisper, my back arching. I need him deeper.
He keeps fucking me as I pulse and clench around him, his own release building.
And then he lets go.
His cock pulses inside me.
His face is buried in my neck, his breath hot and ragged against my skin.
“I want to have babies with you,” I admit.
“Yes,” he says, nuzzling against me.
We stay like that for what feels like forever. His body pressed against mine, his cock still deep inside me.
This is easy, I think to myself,and oh-so fucking right.
The next morning,I wake up naked in an empty bed. At first, I’m not sure where I am. The sun is high in the sky, and birds are chirping like they’re spreading Merryville gossip. I listen for the sound of a TV in the living room or Mawmaw chatting on the phone to her friends, but all is quiet.
Last night felt like a dream. The only indication that it wasn’t is my towel lying in a heap on the floor where I dropped it. As I sit up, the door opens. It’s Weston, carrying a cup of coffee, dressed ina collared shirt and slacks. He closes the door and then sits on the edge of the bed.
“How’d you sleep?” He hands me the cup.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers against my mouth, his voice full of need.
His hands slide over my hips, and he parts my thighs. Light fingers skim over my sensitive pussy. Somehow, I keep the moan buried deep in my throat.
“Make love to me,” I whisper, reaching for him.
“Is that what you want?” he asks, his breath hot against my ear as his fingers tease my hard nub.
“It’s what I need,” I say. My mind spins, my body is on fire, and every nerve ending in my body screams for him, all of him.
“It’s the closest I can be to you,” I breathe out, barely audible, but he hears them. He always hears them.
Weston moves between my legs, kissing and licking up my pussy before hovering above me. I part my thighs wide, and his cock already eagerly waits at my entrance. Reaching forward, I wrap my hand around him, feeling the thick, hot weight in my palm. I guide him to where I need him most.
In one long, slow thrust, Weston pushes inside me, making my toes curl.
“Wes,” I whisper, my breath catching in my throat as he pushes deeper.
My head falls back on the pillow as he rocks his hips in rhythm with mine. I grow overwhelmed with pleasure as I hear his ragged breaths in my ear. Together, we’re utterly perfect.
His hands and mouth are everywhere like he’s memorizing me with admiration. His hand slides down to grip my hips as he fucks me with a tenderness that makes my heart ache.
This isn’t just sex. It’s raw and real and so intimate that it leaves me breathless.
I wasn’t prepared to feel this with him.
“I love you,” he whispers against my skin, his lips brushing against the curve of my neck as he thrusts into me again.
My body tightens around him as pleasure builds deep inside me.
“I love you too,” I gasp, my nails digging into his back as I get closer and closer to the edge.
He shifts his hips slightly, the angle changing just enough to make me see stars. I whimper, knowing I need to stay quiet as the orgasm pulls me under.
“Wes, more,” I whisper, my back arching. I need him deeper.
He keeps fucking me as I pulse and clench around him, his own release building.
And then he lets go.
His cock pulses inside me.
His face is buried in my neck, his breath hot and ragged against my skin.
“I want to have babies with you,” I admit.
“Yes,” he says, nuzzling against me.
We stay like that for what feels like forever. His body pressed against mine, his cock still deep inside me.
This is easy, I think to myself,and oh-so fucking right.
The next morning,I wake up naked in an empty bed. At first, I’m not sure where I am. The sun is high in the sky, and birds are chirping like they’re spreading Merryville gossip. I listen for the sound of a TV in the living room or Mawmaw chatting on the phone to her friends, but all is quiet.
Last night felt like a dream. The only indication that it wasn’t is my towel lying in a heap on the floor where I dropped it. As I sit up, the door opens. It’s Weston, carrying a cup of coffee, dressed ina collared shirt and slacks. He closes the door and then sits on the edge of the bed.
“How’d you sleep?” He hands me the cup.
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