I ground against the floor, knowing how fucking dirty this was. People were still singing out on the back patio, and I could hear them laughing in the bar downstairs. We’d done this once, for show, back at the beginning. But that had been fake. This was real, if the litany of curses that fell from his mouth told me anything. There was something about getting my face fucked in a public place where we could get caught at any moment that was doing it for me.
Or maybe it was just Darren.
I growled at him when he started to slow down, pulling my head back and off his dick. “I’m going to come if we keep that up,” he gasped.
“That’s what I want,” I said, scowling up at him. “You can come on my face. I like it. It’s okay.”
“Fuck,” he said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “We can do that. Later. I really want to fuck you.”
That… was okay by me.
But I was an asshole, so I said, “Maybe I want to fuck you.”
He nodded far more quickly than I thought. “Yeah, that too. All of that. Let’s do all of that. Whatever you want.”
I pushed myself to my hands and knees and crawled up him until I straddled his waist, legs resting on either side of him. I was amused to see I was still wearing heels, my skirt hiked up around my thighs. I sat on his lap, and we both groaned as his cock pressed against my lace-covered ass. I rested my weight on him and he pushed himself up until we were chest to chest, resting back on his hands. I leaned in and kissed him, the barest brush of lips as my hands came to his chest, nails dragging lightly across his skin.
I pretended to think on it for a moment as he kissed his way to my neck, mouth at my throat as I rolled my hips into him. “This time, you can fuck me,” I decided, as if there was really any other alternative.
He snorted into my neck. “How generous of you.”
I grabbed the back of his head and pulled his hair until he looked back at me. He was breathing heavily through his nose, and his eyes were dark. And we both knew then that even though he’d be fucking me, he wasn’t the one in charge. And I think he liked it that way. It probably wouldn’t always be like this, but it was now and I planned to make the most of it. I leaned down and kissed him again, harder this time, feeling his teeth press my lips back.
He sat up higher as he returned the kiss, grabbing my legs and bringing them around his waist. His hands came to my ass, getting himself a big handful as he squeezed. I stuttered a bit in my ministrations, feeling the drag of the panties against my cock and balls. I moaned into his mouth, and then his tongue was there again, touching mine as he kissed me deeply.
Keeping one hand on my ass, he brought his other between us, reaching up my skirt, fingertips grazing the lace. The head of my dick poked out the top of the panties, and he took it between his fingers, rubbing the tip of my cock with his thumb.
I rolled my hips again, grinding down onto him. “We gonna do this here?” I asked, sounding rather breathless as he continued to stroke my cock.
“We’re not leaving here until I’ve fucked you,” he said against my lips.
“How do you want it?” I asked, running my fingers through his hair. “Like this? You want me to fuck myself on you?” I rocked myself down again and swallowed the grunt that came from him. “Or,” I said, pulling away, “do you want me up against the wall, taking me from behind?”
He whimpered at that one.
I grinned into his kiss.
“That do it for you?” I asked. “Bent over against the wall. Ass up.”
“Yeah,” he said. “That. Please. Show me.”
I laughed. “I can show you.”
I brought my legs back on either side of him, reaching down to unclasp the heels I wore. But before I could, he stopped me, hand coming to mine, holding it in place. I looked back up at him, arching an eyebrow.
“No,” he said, blushing darkly. He coughed and shook his head. “Can you… uh. Keep those on? I’d like it if you… kept those on.”
“Really.” I was careful not to mock him. It really wasn’t in me to kink shame, especially when it would concern me getting laid or not by the Homo Jock King. And it wasn’t like I’d never thought about it before. But I was in a weird headspace, mind still swirling with just how quickly this had escalated, still trapped between being Helena and being Sandy. I had to be sure we were on the same page. “I can do that. Won’t happen all the time.” Because I thought we could talk about stuff like that now. The future. It made my heart trip all over itself.
He shook his head. “I won’t want you to. Just… this time. And maybe some other times.” He looked like he was embarrassed by such an admission, and I couldn’t have that.
I leaned forward and kissed him again, working his mouth over until he was groaning again, my hands on his chest, pinching his nipples and running my fingers through his chest hair. He was strong beneath me, just like I’d known he’d be. And just when I thought he was going to flip me over and take me right then, I backed off, pulling away and rising to my feet, standing above him.
Erections are ridiculous things. They tend to broadcast more than a man is usually wanting to share.
Now imagine having an erection while i
n a fitted skirt and lace panties. There’s a reason I tucked when dressed up in Helena-wear. It was uncomfortable to move, my dick aching in the confines of my clothes. And I didn’t think the sexiest thing I could have done in what had to be the sexiest moment of my life was try and adjust my junk over the skirt.