“Mrph!” I cry out against his lips.
“Moly holy guacamole,” he says against mine.
His back hits the bed, and the mattress dips and rocks dangerously. The thing doesn’t have the springy capability of a trampoline, apparently, but thankfully, the bed lets out another groan and decides to hold us. Both of us breathe again.
“Sorry,” I whisper, but it’s a thick, strained whisper because all of a sudden, I can feel something hard digging into my stomach.
No, it’s not a phone or brick or some other random object. It’s Wilder—his, um, member. It’s so hard that it’s throbbing. I’m really glad I landed practically straddling him because if I fell on that, things could have bent in ways they were never meant to be bent. Yeah, I’d hate to go to the hospital and explain that sex-related injury. Except it would be pre-sex related, so that would be even more embarrassing.
I inch down a little, wriggling my hips until his really big, long, and hard length is in the semi-right spot. When I feel him there, rubbing against my still sensitive, extremely frustrated clit, I just about lose my mind. I do let out a little whimper because mmph, having him there feels freaking awesome. I want to continue what we were doing in the kitchen in the worst way. And by worst, I mean the very best.
If lady boners are real, then I have a raging one. And if lady balls are real, mine would be purple by now. I wriggle against Wilder, who groans as I whimper again, and god, I wish we didn’t have the barrier of underwear between us.
I roll my hips over Wilder’s massive bulge again, and J Murphy, maybe the underwear isn’t such a terrible thing because it adds a whole different, desperate, mouth-watering, teenage vibing, backseat fooling, angsty dimension.
I grind against Wilder and set my hands on his chest before leaning forward and arching my back so that I can get him in the right spot. My legs are spread so wide that they’re already burning at the tops of my thighs because Wilder is huge. Each of his legs is probably thicker than my whole body.
With a small groan, he reaches up and cups my breasts with his big palms. Apparently, his fingers are deft and talented because he reaches around my back and quickly unhooks my bra. When I shove the straps down my arms—no, not at all in desperation, though that’s said with total and utter sarcasm—his eyes get all big and even darker than they usually are.
“Oh god,” he breathes. “You have amazing breasts.”
“I always thought they were kind of average. They’re only a large A cup.”
“Cup size doesn’t matter. They’re fantastic. And your nipples…”
“You’re going to give me a complex here. It’s probably just because I’m at a good vantage point.”
“No. No, that’s not it. I mean, yes, you are. It’s a great view from down here, and I wouldn’t change it for anything. Well, maybe I’d change the underwear thing, but only if you want.”
Wilder runs his thumb over the stiff peak of my nipple before he leans up and suckles it into his mouth. I can feel the scrape of his teeth and the warm swipe of his tongue. He’s not gentle, but he’s not rough either, and my hips are making circles on top of his happy stick now. And it’s really, really happy. And hard. And fabulous. And yes, it’s all still with underwear on.
“I was thinking it’ll be better off too.”
“Are you…uh…I don’t have a condom. I wasn’t planning on seducing my roommate.”
“Technically, I think I might have seduced you,” I purr in response.
“Maybe it was a mutual seducing, but I didn’t plan it.”
“I have some plastic wrap in the kitchen.” I glance at his dresser. “Or maybe you have a sock you’d be willing to give up.”
“Please tell me you’re joking.” Wilder swipes his tongue over my nipple, and I mewl in response.
“Yes, that’s a really bad joke. Of course. Good chicken legs barbequed to perfection. Of course, that’s a joke. I have an IUD.”
“An IU…what?’
“You know, one of those clips. They put it inside you, and then you don’t have to get the shot or take pills.”
“Oh, okay.”
“So, um, yes. If you want, we could enter the underwear-free zone.”
“If I want,” Wilder groans. “Good chicken legs.” He uses my saying and laughs, and a hot puff of air blows out over my nipple. I barely manage not to turn into a bowl of jelly and fruit, which, by the way, is a totally delicious snack.
Letting out a moan, I grind down the length of Wilder again, though it would be way better out of the confines of his gotch. My panties are pretty much soaked, and I can’t wait to get out of them either.