Was it the first winter here in Ottawa? I moved for university, and I was living in the dorms, but I hated my roommate. Garrett was visiting, and he went to the military recruiting office.
Would I want to move off-campus and share an apartment, if he could get into a reserve unit in Ottawa?
I threw myself at him, and after making out hungrily, he asked me to sit on his face.
“But…how will you breathe?”
He just grinned and shrugged. “Dunno.”
“Garrett!” My face was burning up. “If I smother you…”
“Then I’ll die the happiest recruit in the Canadian Forces.”
He didn’t die. It sort of felt likeIdid, the best kind of death, the type of orgasm that builds and builds with heady need, pulse-pounding and intense, and then explodes into dazzling nothingness.
That same kind of release is starting to coil tight in my belly now, as he pulls my clit into his mouth, as he licks and sucks andgrowls.
Missed you,I want to say. But I don’t, because that isn’t what this is. He won’t even let me kiss him. He picked the crudest way to get me off.
This is just sex.
That splashes cold water on my arousal.
My hips stutter, my thighs tensing up, as suddenly his mouth on my clit is too much, way too much.
“Garrett, stop,” I pant.
He pulls off gasping.
How will you breathe?
Dunno.
He stares up at me, his face slick with my arousal.
“It’s okay,” he says. “You taste good. Don’t over think it.”
I let out a weak little laugh. “Easier said than done.”
He rolls his eyes. “Jesus Christ.”
I frown. “Hey, I can’thelpit.”
He pats my hip. “Lift up.”
I pull my shaking leg off him, and he slides out from under me. He doesn’t go far, just circles around and holds me from behind. My ass rubs against his erection as he hooks my bare legs around his kneeling thighs.
Stretching me out, a naked girl on top of her fully-clothed ex.
“Look at how fucking sexy you are,” he whispers roughly in my ear. He palms my tits, then pushes one hand between my thighs. His fingers tease at my pussy lips, but he avoids my clit. “You were all turned on when we started. Was it the bickering that did it for you? You sent out an orgasm distress signal, but you really just wanted to fight?”
I choke on a frustrated denial.
“Yeah, no. You want to come.” He works his middle finger through my slick arousal to my entrance. “So stop thinking and fuck my hand.”
I roll my hips, grinding back against his thick cock. “Your hand isn’t why I texted you.”
He keeps going as if I didn’t just beg for his dick. “Jesus, fighting makes you wet.”
