Totally fine with me.
I don’t get to kiss her nearly enough.
“If you didn’t, I’d be pretty pissed at you.”
Kissing her isn’t a regular thing. I try not to do it too often, even though we’re both very aware of how we feel about one another, and we’ve moved well past the friend zone. I just can’t get myself to do it.
Don’t get me wrong, I want to do it all the time, but I’m still scared that I’m moving too fast for her.
I’m slowing everything down because I think it’s what she needs, but what if it isn’t? What if she needs it to get hot and heavy quickly? What if she needs the connection?
Am I an idiot, or am I just overthinking everything?
Probably both…
No, definitely both.
Her lips meet mine and I’m instantly brought back to our first kiss. It’s just as good as the first time, and I can’t think for even a second that it’ll ever grow old.
Her hands roam my body, feeling every curve of my muscles, playing with the short strands of my hair, fisting my shirt so she can pull me closer… everything she does makes me want her more and more.
The pure lust seeping out of me is almost too much tohandle, and just as I’m about to pull back and tell her we should stop, she pushes me back.
“Door,” she breathes, “close the door.”
Her parents are home, and the last thing either of us needs is to have them find us in this position.
Her mom and dad would kill me.
I bolt up from our position on the bed and run to slam the door closed before quickly jumping back on top of her.
I’m so eager that I rip her shirt straight down the middle, buttons flying everywhere, but I have to stop and stare at the black lace bralette she’s wearing.
Jesus fucking Christ.
My mouth finds her chest immediately, placing gentle kisses over every inch of exposed skin that I can find. When my lips graze the thin lace, I feel my dick twitch in my pants, and while I would love nothing more than to fuck her brains out right now, I’m going to choose to torture myself instead.
Her eyes grow wide when I press against her thigh, “there’s no way that thing is fitting inside of me,” she squeaks.
“What’s wrong, Pixie?” I mock, “don’t think you can handle me?”
“That’s exactly what I just said… you’re fucking huge.”
Chuckling, I kiss my way down her stomach while untying the sweats she’s wearing. “Thanks for the ego boost, but thisthingisn’t going inside of you today.”
I swear I see a flash of disappointment in her eyes, but the second I pull her pants down —along with her panties— that disappointment melts into heat.
“Fuck” I groan, “your pussy is so pretty.”
Sasha’s cheeks glow pink.
“Tell me you want it,” I demand, tracing a finger through her slit.
She stares down at me through hooded eyes, “I want it.”
Smirking, I press my finger inside of her, watching her back arch and listening to a moan escape her lips. Her walls contract against my finger, squeezing tightly, pulsing with every movement I make.
“Please,” she begs.
