You probably shouldn’t have an entire separate album on your phone of every nude and video you have of her. You probably shouldn’t be looking at it all the time.
You probably shouldn’t commute to work together, either. Or eat every dinner together. Or hang out every night. But we’ve always done that. Mostly.
You also probably shouldn’t know how she takes her coffee. Or that she folds her pizza in half and will eat the crust of a sandwich first. Or that she has exactly seventeen moles on her back and her sides, and one birthmark on her chest. Or that she makes the perfect bite of food to save for last. Actually sets it aside on her plate.
You definitely shouldn’t know the age at which your newly minted friend-with-benefits got her first period. Or how she was missing her top two middle teeth for, like, a really long time. Or what she looked like with her headgear. Or how she got that scar on her lip. And her knee. Or how you and her older brother saved her from drowning when she was sixteen, pulling her out of a lake after a particularly raucous round of water skiing.
You probably shouldn’t basically be family.
So, we never discuss it.
And it’s actually pretty great, getting to do all these things with someone you know on the deepest level possible. Someone you trust, and someone who has your back and takes you seriously and thinks you’re awesome and that your side hustle is legit.
You probably shouldn’t enjoy the sight of her blonde hair all over your pillow and in your mouth in the mornings, but here we are.
“Morning, beautiful,” she tells me on Saturday, with morning voice and morning breath.
I kiss her anyway. “Morning, Gorgeous.”
She snuggles into my chest, both of us on our sides, and I wish I could unzip my body and keep her inside like an absolute psychopath. I think what truly makes it psychopathic though, is that this is not the first time I’ve had this thought.
“What should we do today?” she asks, her mouth moving against my chest hair.
I shift her up so we’re face to face, lifting her leg and wrapping it around my waist. Rubbing my very hard dick up and down through her center, spreading her lips around me, getting her and the underside of my dick nice and wet. “This,” I say into her mouth.
At some point in the last few days, we’ve dropped the guise of ‘practice’. That’s not what this is anymore.
She sighs when I start circling her nipple with my thumb, tweaking the nub back and forth. “Obviously. But what should we do after that?” she asks me, after her hot little tongue explores the inside of my mouth and she starts grinding down on her own, pressing her clit to the sensitive spot just under the head of my cock.
I groan. “It’s Saturday,” I tell her, angling her hips and holding myself at the base so that I can push inside her wet warmth. It never gets old, the way she stretches around me, the way she feels around my bare dick, the little sigh she lets out when I first inch in. “We can do this all day, if we want to,” I say, moving back and forth, coating myself, working my way up and up and all the way in. “Give me your eyes, Gorgeous,” I remind her, when they close after I’m fully seated.
They pop open, and I love seeing them this close. My dick pulses inside her.
She starts rolling her hips then, a slow, lazy grind. “We should be productive today,” she tells me.
“I think this is extremely productive,” I reply, resuming my nipple worship, lifting one just a little so that I can work my tongue around it.
She moves her hand down between us, pulling the hood of her clit up, exposing it so that it can better rub against my skin. She grinds a little harder. “Didn’t you say you wanted to do something for your gym? Advertising or marketing or whatever? Social media?”
I decide to help her out a little, thrusting with each roll of her hips. “Hmm… yeah. I could use some help with that.”
“I also talked to my friend. She recommended an accounting software,” Mia says before rolling us, pushing me flat on my back so she can be on top. She resumes her slow grind while I occupy both my hands with her tits, loving the way she looks on top of me in the light of the morning, the way the sun hits her skin. “She said it’s not that expensive. Let’s look into that, too.”
“Okay,” I tell her, but not entirely sure what I’m agreeing to at this point. I put two of my fingers in her mouth, pushing down on her tongue.
She sucks on them, wrapping her tongue around the same way she does when I’m in her mouth, down her throat. My dick gets impossibly harder. “We should go for a walk after that,” she pants, feeling it, bearing down a little more, faster. “Get some groceries.”
“Yes,” I hiss between my teeth, but it’s more of an exclamation rather than a response. I grip her hips now, hard enough that I know it’ll leave marks on her pale skin, wrenching her back and forth over my dick, making herfuckme.
There’s no more talk about the day’s agenda now, just a long moan from Mia and a grunt from myself with Mia’s mouth slack and her tits bouncing and nails clawing into my chest and it’s so perfect andthere, right there.
I feel her tightening around me and I know she’s close because I know every inch of her body, outside and in, and thank god because I’m cooked. I need her to go first, so I do what gets her up and over every time, shoving my finger in her mouth again, getting it wet, then pressing it just slightly into the tight ring of her ass, and there, there she goes, and thank fucking god because two more thrusts up and I spill into her, and it’s an explosion and reckoning.
“Fuck, baby,” I groan, pulling her down by the neck while she writhes on top of me, sucking on her tongue, swallowing her moans.
She grips my face with both hands, and we make out for what feels like hours, with my dick still inside her, and it’s a feeling more than words.
Finally, unfortunately, it ends, but she stays on top of me, knees on either side of my hips, chest to chest, and I wrap my arms around her, pressing my ear against her heartbeat, listening to it slow.
