“Then keep doing it,” I said.
He laughed, then dipped his head and took my nipple in his mouth, pulling hard and circling with his tongue.
“Oh my God,” I said, my back arching off the bed and pushing my body deeper into him.
“No, it’s me, Logan,” he joked, then moved to my other breast. “Though I suppose I have been called a god on occasion.”
“Don’t be an assh— Oh,fuckthat feels good,” I yelped as he squeezed me up to take even more of me into his mouth. I writhed under him, wanting the friction of his hard dick where I needed it.
“Not so quickly, Megan,” he said, then continued to suck on me, moving from one side to the other.
“Yes, quickly, Logan,” I pleaded. Actually pleaded!
His hips ground into me, and it was apparent he had about as much self-control left as I did. Which was not very much.
“Yeah, okay, quickly. This time,” he said. He reached over me, sadly having to leave my aching breasts unattended. From his nightstand drawer he pulled out a three-strand of condoms. He ripped one off, then went to toss the other two back in, but he stopped and placed them on top of the nightstand.
“Big talk,” I said, nodding to the other two condoms.
“Challenge accepted,” he said. Taking the condom in his hand, he brought it in front of us to tear open, and then got distracted by my tits, and the still-wrapped condom dropped to my chest while he freed his hands to touch and tease me once again.
My solid C cup was enough to play with, but not too much to cause back problems, thank God. And my girls liked to be played with.
And Logan knew how to play.
The tugging from his mouth caused a deep moan that conveyed just how much I was enjoying it.
“Me too,” he agreed with my unspoken words. “So, so much.”
Typically, in the early phases of foreplay and sex (not that I’d had that many partners, or that much sex, thus the idea behind Freshman Flings), my body would feel heavy, weighted, sinking into the bed. At least metaphorically.
And I kept waiting for that to happen, to get to that point with Logan, because then I’d be closer to getting off, as I had in the past.
But with Logan, I felt my body getting lighter, almost floating, as if his body above me was the only thing not causing me to float off the bed and hover on the ceiling.
It was a surprise. A delightful surprise. But would I be able to get—
“Oh, God, I’m going to come,” I said when he gave one of my nipples a pinch while sucking the other and grinding himself into me.
“Do it. Come, Megan,” he said, then returned to sucking. He moved his hand from my other tit down, skimming my rib cage, gliding over my panties and moving his hips aside just enough to rub on my clit.
My hips started to roll. He brought his head up to look down at me.
I wanted his mouth back on me. “More,” I said, the one word almost a gasp.
“I need to see you when you come. I need to watch.”
His finger continued to rub while my body tensed.Close. So close.
“You’re so close, Megan. I can feel it. Feel you.” His finger slid inside my panties. Inside me. Curled up and landed right where I needed him.
The lightness of my body exploded into heat. Powerful. Consuming. I rode his finger. Fingers—he’d added another. Clutching his shoulders, I tried to hide my face in his chest, uncomfortable with the strong feelings rushing through me as my body reacted. But he wouldn’t have it, rising to be able to look down at me as my release continued.
“That’s it. Jesus, Megan, you’re fucking beautiful.” One of his hands (notthatone, thank God!) took a fistful of my hair, pulling a little as he continued to finger-fuck me.
“Logan,” I gasped, trying to turn the corner, to come down. But he didn’t let me, his fingers changing rhythm just enough to keep the crescendo alive. The music kept playing under his conducting.
“Keep going. Fuck. You’re on fire.”
