Feeney nods.
“And your panties?”
She nods again.
“Can I taste you?”
“Holy bananas,” she whispers thickly. “Yes, if you want to.”
If I want to. If I want to.
I don’t think there’s the slimmest of slim chances I could ever not want to taste her. No. No, there’s none. No chance at all. I realize I’m frozen, and Feeney practically wriggles out from under me and peels her pants off her legs. My hands finally join hers, stripping away her panties.
I have to grind my teeth hard and take a breath, which isn’t easy at the same time, to get myself under control. I don’t think it would be complimentary to lose my shit now. Or maybe…no. No, it would definitely put a damper on things.
But seriously, Feeney is perfect. Beyond perfection. She’s obviously gone the expensive and likely painful route of getting some sort of waxing. I think. No, I know, because when I reach out, daringly, and run my fingers over her, there isn’t any way smoothness like that ever came from a razor. I don’t know where the heat is coming from, but it’s most likely from everywhere—my fingers, her body, my body. My dick’s about to explode, and it’s giving off some weird radioactive vibes. She’s already slick, and when I brush my fingers over her, she exhales loudly and drops back against the pillows.
I fully realize this could be a disaster for me as I’m barely holding it together. Feeney is like a goddess, all glorious perfection, and just the sight of her would be enough to slay any mortal.
“Is…is something wrong?” Feeney whispers.
I realize I’m just sitting here, frozen, staring at her. God, this has to set a new record for creepiness. No wonder she’s unnerved.
“No! I…I’m just…having a bit of a problem.” I lower my eyes down south to the massive bulge in my jeans.
Feeney’s eyes get even bigger as she follows my gaze. “Uh, are you okay? What’s wrong? If you don’t want to…do you…is it a medical problem? Do I have to call an ambulance?”
I don’t want to think about what kind of problem I could have with my dick that would require an ambulance. I don’t even want to think about that. Thinking it is like inviting it, and I don’t want to invite something surgical to happen to my dick. I’m rather attached to it, in more than one way. Hah.
“No. Definitely not. I…uh, the problem is, I’ve never known it to be a problem before. And uh, if it happens, I’ll just need a few minutes. It’s a compliment, really. I…it would be more embarrassing than—”
“Oh.” Feeney giggles. “Oh. I see. That kind of problem.” She shrugs even though she’s still lying down. “That’s not a problem. It actually makes me feel better. I’m very…well…wet…”
My cock kicks dangerously.
“I’m just, yeah. Already close. I don’t think it should stop us, though, from…I mean, it’s okay if it happens fast, isn’t it?”
“I might set a record for fast.”
“That’s okay. This is…it’s fine.” She swallows hard. “But it is kind of nerve-wracking sitting here, totally naked, and just being stared at. But if you want to do that for a little while longer, I’m okay too.”
“I’m sorry. Yeah, you’re right. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I was just…you’re insanely beautiful. You know that, right?”
She just stares back at me. “I don’t know about insanely. I guess I’m pretty enough, but um…maybe you should get naked too, so I can look at you. That way, we’re even.” A ghost of a smile appears, and I’m so relieved she has a unique sense of humor because I’m badly butchering this.
I get off the bed and slip out of my jeans. I debate leaving my briefs on, just for something tight to hold everything in place, but I figure it probably won’t really help. And I want to be in control. I am in control. Of my dick. The fucker is going to get in line and listen to me. It’s not going to do whatever the heck it wants. My balls beg to differ, but I send them a silent threat for compliance as well.
“Wow,” Feeney says softly. “You’re kind of insanely beautiful too.”
Shit. I think I might actually be blushing. My skin heats up, and my cock, which is so hard I’m practically looking it straight in the…err…eye when I look down, bobs in agreement.
Okay. Time to get my shit together.
I bend over her and take my time as I run my hands up her smooth, sleek legs. I eventually end up at her waist, and with a little tug, I drag her gently toward the edge of the bed. She makes a sound low in her throat but helps me by positioning her heels at the edge. I’ve had enough hesitating. I want, more than anything and like my life depends on it, to taste her.