“What do you want, Savannah?” I mean to ask it teasingly, but my voice is gruff, and the lust in her eyes makes her so beautiful it hurts. Not that she isn’t always, but there’s something so raw about her desire, and directed at me…
“I just…I need…”
“What do you need, Savannah?” I kiss the inside of her thigh, from her knee upwards.
“You,” she pants. “I want your mouth…on me.” Her voice wavers slightly, but her eyes are certain. She bites her bottom lip after she says it, so I capture her mouth in mine, savoring it, before I pull away and run my tongue down her slick folds.
Savannah gasps and arches her hips, offering herself up to me. I haven’t had this much fun making a woman come in…maybe ever. She’s so responsive, not with words, but her sounds let me know exactly what she wants.
Me.
And she’s drenched.
“This all for me?”
She nods like words are impossible, but then cries out as my tongue slips inside her and I feast. My hands rest on her knees, because she keeps trying to lock them around me, and while that wouldn’t be a bad way to go, I don’t want this to end prematurely.
“Fuck, you taste so good, Peaches.”
I’ve barely made it to Savannah’s bud when her breath comes in heavy. I suck on her clit, then bring my thumb to circle it while my mouth explores her sweet center. She moans my name, legs quivering as I lap up everything she gives me, then her eyes meet mine and she comes on my tongue.
I keep going while she rides the wave, soft moans turning into near sobs, then wipe my mouth on my forearm and take her for a kiss that feels charged. It doesn’t hurt that as soon as she recovers, her arms are around me and she’s pulling me closer, legs around my waist, searching for friction or connection and I want to give it all to her.
She swallows, still slightly out of breath. “I’ve never felt…”
She doesn’t have to say it; I know. But she gets this concentrated look on her face.
“You enjoyed that.” It’s a statement, but her words are laced with questions. How? Why? Is something wrong with you?
“I could do that every day and twice on Sundays,” I tell her. “No joke, call me anytime and I’m yours.” She’s still contemplative, so I ask, “Your last boyfriend didn’t…do that?”
“He tried it once, but it just felt like such a disgusting inconvenience that we never did it again.”
“I promise, there is nothing disgusting about you, and the only inconvenience is that walking around naked is frowned upon.”
She laughs, but I’m not sure she believes me yet.
* * *
We make out a little more, but it’s getting late, and she probably wants to get to bed.
“I should head out,” I say, brushing the hair away from her face so I can look at her, but I make no effort to leave.
“I can drive you.” Savannah reaches for her jeans.
“It’s late, you should stay in. I’ll be fine,” I assure her.
“Walking in the dark with drunk drivers when you’re dressed in black sounds like a terrible idea.”
My coat has reflective strips, but I don’t point that out, because she’s nervously biting her bottom lip.
“You can stay here if you want. Or I can drive you home, but I don’t think I’d forgive myself if you got run over.”
I don’t have practice until ten, so there’s nothing stopping me really, other than the fact that sleepovers – without sex – feel a hell of a lot more like a relationship than a casual hookup.
“I can sleep in Anna’s bed. I’m sure she won’t mind as long as I change the sheets.” She’s nervous again, probably because she’d rather die than ask her roommate, and because she thinks sleeping in a bed with her is a deterrent, rather than a motivating factor for me taking her up on her offer.
“I think I can survive one night in bed with you,” I assure her with a wink, as if that lessens the fact that I’m about to climb into bed with an intense case of blue balls so I can hold her.
