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DRUNKEN FUMBLES

Hugh

OCTOBER 31, 2002

R OLLING ME ONTO MY BACK , L IZ STRADDLED MY HIPS AND KISSED ME WITH A DESPER ation that matched mine. Too drunk to care about my erection I knew was digging into her, I threw caution to the wind and enjoyed the moment.

I didn’t slam the brakes as she peeled the straps of her dungarees down her arms, and I didn’t protest when she whipped her green shirt off, either.

When she momentarily climbed off my lap to remove her dungarees, I reveled in the glorious view, and when she took my hands in hers and pressed them to her glorious tits, I died and went to heaven.

Because she was perfect.

Honest to God, this girl was heaven on earth to me.

Unable to stop myself, I let my eyes rake over her full, perky tits and gorgeous rose-tipped nipples that seemed to strain toward me. Releasing a groan of arousal, I gently traced the swell of her breasts before moving to her nipples. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

“I want you so bad,” my girlfriend moaned, hips bucking wildly on top of me, while she pushed at my hands. “Touch me everywhere.”

Happy to oblige, I flipped her onto her back and moved between her thighs. “We’re not having sex,” I declared, words slurred as I hitched her thigh around my waist. The move caused our bodies to align in the most primal of ways and both of us to moan in pleasure. “Just touching.”

“Fine, fine, whatever you want,” Liz moaned, digging her nails into my back. “Just don’t stop.”

“Feel me?”

“I feel you, Hugh.”

“That’s how much I want you.”

“Really?”

The alcohol flowing through my bloodstream allowed me to be achingly vulnerable with her. “I want to be inside you.”

“I want that, too.”

“I’m just waiting,” I admitted, straining against her. “We agreed your sixteenth.”

“I don’t think I can wait that long, Hugh.”

Neither do I .

Shivering, I covered her breasts with my hands at the same time I covered her lips with mine. Jesus, she was perfect.

Drunk or not, I had the mental capacity to know this girl was my entire world and if I ever did something she wasn’t ready for, I honestly wouldn’t be able to live with myself.

What that prick did to her sister was always in the back of my mind, and I think Grandad’s whiskey had finally forced me to acknowledge it was the driving factor behind my standoffish approach to intimacy.

“It’s okay,” Liz encouraged, seeming to hear my thoughts aloud as she pushed my head downward. “I want your touch.”

Kissing a trail from her lips to her neck and then her collarbone, I slowly made the descent down her body until my tongue circled one of her pebbled nipples.

“Yes.” Her breath hitched and her hands shot out to fist my hair. “Don’t stop.”

Obliging, I used my lips, fingers, and tongue to make myself acquainted with this once-forbidden part of her anatomy.

“I think it might happen,” she moaned, pushing herself into my face. “I think it might, Hugh.”

“Are you okay with that?”

Nodding eagerly, she clenched her eyes shut and writhed beneath me. “I need more.” And then, grabbing my hand in hers, she pushed it between her thighs. “More here .”

Holy fuck, I was learning on the job tonight.

Pulling up on one elbow, I glanced down at her flushed expression, while my fingers traced the lacy fabric between her legs. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to touch you here?”

“If you don’t, I think I’ll scream,” she moaned, rocking her hips against my hand. “Please touch me.”

Before I could talk myself out of it, I slid my hand under the scrap of lace and lightly traced one finger up and down her slit before gently pushing one finger inside her.

“Move inside me,” she instructed, breathing hard and uneven. “Crook your finger…mm, yeah, just like that.”

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, please,” Liz cried out, frantically bucking her hips into my touch. “Keep going, Hugh. Please, please! Make me better.”

Make her better?

It was a strange comment to make in the throes of passion, but I was too drunk and too fucking lost in the moment to care. Overcome by lust, I relished how tight and hot and wet she felt.

“Tell me what to do now,” I whispered, feeling uncertain, because this was her body, and I had no fucking clue what I was doing. “What should I do?”

“More,” she commanded with a shudder. “More.”

“Fingers?”

“Yes.” Flush faced and frantic, she rubbed herself against me while I gently eased another finger inside her.

“Is that okay?” I asked a few seconds later when she started to tighten around my fingers. “Liz, are you okay?”

She didn’t answer me with words, only breathy moans, and she jerked violently and her eyes rolled back.

This continued for several seconds before her entire body went completely lax.

“Whoa,” she breathed as a smile began to spread across her face. “That was amazing.”

Feeling proud of myself, I gently withdrew my fingers and smiled.

“Look at that grin,” she teased, reaching up to squeeze my cheek. “You look like the cat that got the cream.”

“Uh, Liz .”

“Sorry. Bad analogy.”