“Dia,” I warn in a weak attempt to scare her off, but she bats her eyelashes at me, so painfully clueless as to the dangerous road she’s venturing on.
“W-What about this?” she stammers, slipping her hand inside my pants and luring a groan from somewhere deep within my throat. “Does this make you feel guilty?”
Baby, you have no idea…
All bets are off when she cups my cock over my briefs and squeezes. Her touch is timid and gentle. She palms me so softly it’s maddening.
Don’t do this to her, my conscience shouts, but my body refuses to pull the panic cord.
And my mouth?
My mouth is a backstabbing traitor.
“Fuck, you’re killing me.” I throw my head back, hating myself because I know how this story ends. I’m going to take everything this girl has to give.
Until there’s nothing left.
Until she’s just as empty as I am.
She pulls her hand out of my pants, resting her fingers flat on my abs. “Is this okay? I can stop, I—”
I don’t think my next move through, grabbing her fist and shoving it inside my briefs. Her clumsy little hand wraps around my cock instantly, my hips jerking forward at the contact. She starts rubbing me up and down, her grip growing tighter and tighter as she guides her fist to the head of my cock, then back to the base.
“Oh, fuck,” I groan through gritted teeth. She doesn’t seem to know what she’s doing—it must’ve been a while since she was with a guy—and it turns me on even more. I wince when she squeezes me a tad too hard.
“Did I hurt you?” She panics, the strong, sassy girl whose loud mouth I’ve grown to appreciate buried deep under a mountain of insecurity.
She starts to move her hand out of my pants, but I might die of a serious case of blue balls if she stops now.
“Don’t fucking stop.” I’m practically begging her at this point, and maybe I’d give a shit if her hand didn’t feel so good.
The worst part is, it feels good because it’s her.
She continues her frankly awkward hand job for a few minutes, and if it were any other girl touching me, I’d probably find her technique to be on the “meh” side.
She’s holding back, a prisoner of her own head.
She needs to stop overthinking it.
She gasps when I reach for the back of her hair and smash my mouth against hers. There’s a desperation in the way I kiss her, and it feels like a sin. Like I’m corrupting an angel, securing her a spot in hell. Dragging her down with me…
I nibble on her bottom lip for a bit, massaging her skull to help her relax, and she gradually eases her tight grip on my cock. My tongue darts out to lick the seam of her mouth as she opens up for me, moaning against my lips while I tug on her wrist and yank her closer.
I’ve got her pinned to me in an instant, her right leg draped over my thighs as she continues to try to jerk me off in my briefs.
“Tell me what to do,” she croaks inside my mouth.
I could come just from that.
Fuck yes I’ll show you what to do.
Still kissing the hell out of her, I nudge my pants down with one hand, the other lost in her curls. My cock bobs against my stomach, the tip slapping my abs when my underwear slides off.
I’m so hard it’s torture.
She disrupts the kiss the next second, ogling me with this curious look in her eyes. I know damn well it’s not because of my size—let’s just say I’ve never had a problem in that department—which leads me to believe mine is the first dick she’s ever seen.
Shit, is she a virgin?