She walked in ahead of me, looking around, stumbling slightly. I was thankful the room was fairly clean and the bed wasmade, only a few pieces of laundry on the floor. Grabbing them quickly, I tossed them in my hamper.
Unsure of how to proceed, I turned on my speaker.
“Music?” I asked her.
“Sure.” Charlotte sat on the edge of my bed, suddenly looking as uncomfortable as I was. I think that helped because if she were more aggressive right now, I think I’d be chickening out.
“Country or rock?” I asked.
“Let’s go country, might fit the mood better.” Her smile was infectious, and it made me smile too.
I pulled up “You Make it Easy” by Jason Aldean, and a playlist of songs like that. Setting my phone on my desk, I faced her. She smiled as she patted the bed next to her. I took measured steps as I made my way to her, keeping my eye on her. I needed to make sure she really wanted this. And there was only one way to know.
Kneeling in front of her, I put my hands on her knees and asked.
“I need to make sure this is what you want. That you’re good with us getting in my bed.”
She reached for the hem of my sweater, pulling it up and over my head as her answer. Her hands went to my chest, rubbing up to my shoulders, down to my waist. But I grabbed her hands, stopping her from progressing.
“That feels amazing, but please tell me it’s OK for me to touch you as well.”
Her hands went to my face, cradling it.
“What’s wrong, Logan?”
How did I answer that? She didn’t need that backstory of my life.
“I want your consent. I need it, Charlotte, that’s all. I don’t want to do this without knowing I have it.”
She stroked my face before lowering hers to mine. Her lips were soft as she kissed me. It was a simple kiss, and when she pulled away, she looked me square in the eye.
“Logan, I’d like you to fuck me.”
Fuck.
Pulling her to stand with me, I reached down to undo her jeans. First the button, then the zipper. My hands couldn’t move fast enough once I knew it was happening. She joined in, undoing mine. We both fumbled with each other’s pants, struggling to push them over the hips. Through giggles, we resorted to taking off our own pants and tossing them across the floor.
Her shirt and panties remained, and from the look of it, there was no bra underneath.
Her hard nipples poked through her shirt, begging for me to touch them. I reached for the bottom of the material, lifting it slowly up her torso, my fingers rubbing along the skin of her stomach as I went. When my finger reached the underside of her breast, Charlotte let out a small moan, throwing her head back. Both my hands reached under the thin T-shirt to cup her pert breasts, my thumb and finger squeezing each of her nipples gently as I did.
“Logan,” she whispered.
The reverence in how she said my name gave me pause. But then I found myself ripping her shirt over her head. We stood, staring at one another, both in our underwear. Her body was amazing, curves in all the right places. Fit but not so muscular she looked masculine. She took one step toward me, bringing us only inches apart, as she put her hands on my chest.
“Logan.” She said my name again as her hands ran across my chest, down my torso. “You’re incredibly sexy, do you know that?” Her hand made it to my bulging dick still inside my boxerbriefs. “Every part of you is hard, not just your dick, but I love that your dick is hard for me.”
Her hand wrapped around me, gripping my cock tight through the material.
Reaching down with both hands, she pushed my boxers to the ground. Her heated look took me in from head to toe. And I liked that. Stepping closer, my finger went to the dip at the base of her neck and trailed down between her breasts. Once there, I circled around her firm skin, cupping a breast in my hand, as her head fell back. Lowering my mouth, I took a pink nipple between my lips, sucking and nipping at it as I did. My hand pulled at her other tit, flicking the taut tip, as she moaned my name under her breath.
“C’mon, Charlotte, let’s get in this bed.”
As she went to sit on the edge, she missed it, her ass sliding off the mattress and heading for the hard boards of the floor. My hands thrust forward, gripping under her arms, pulling her against me.
“Whoops,” she said, with the giggly tone of someone really drunk.
Shit.
