His thumbs travel slowly, methodically, and soon I’m lost in the feel of his sexy hands caressing me, kneading me.
They reach the crease of my ass where my legs connect and he digs a little deeper.
“Oh,” I say on a long moan, my ass moving against his fingers.
He doesn’t say anything, just coughs, and then moves back down my legs.
My skin heats up, the back of my neck growing sweaty as he digs his fingers up my inner thighs. And when he travels along the base of my ass to just below my hip, my entire body breaks out in a sweat. A wave of arousal pulses between my legs.
God, I’m turned on, so turned on that I’m hot in my sweatshirt.
“Hold on,” I say, feeling breathless. I remove my sweatshirt, leaving me in my sports bra and boy shorts, the cold air tingling against my scorching skin.
“Do you want me to do your back too?”
I want you to do me.
“Legs are fine. I was just getting hot.”
“Okay.”
Reaching for my phone, I say, “Mind if I play music?”
“That’s cool,” he answers. So I press my favorite playlist and the first song to come on is “Fallin’” by Jessica Mauboy. It’s the perfect tempo, the perfect mood for what’s happening.
There’s only one light on in my room, my desk lamp, so it’s not very bright, and my mattress and comforter combination has me losing myself in comfort as well as the feel of his hands, creating a relaxing mood.
“Have I ever told you what a great ass you have?” Lincoln says, his voice sultry, gliding over me like a cool fan, chilling my heated skin.
“No,” I say, feeling sleepy.
“Well, it’s a great ass.”
His fingers travel to right below my cheeks, cutting into the sensitive spot—kneading, and pressing—and my arousal kicks up another notch. My clit starts to throb. And just when I don’t think I can take it anymore, his hands travel back down again.
I groan and grip the comforter below me tightly. His fingers travel to the backs of my knees, kneading softly and then my inner thigh where he smooths his thumbs over them at a snail’s pace. Unconsciously, my butt lifts off the mattress as the pressure between my legs builds to a heavy pulse. I spread my legs wider, and his fingers go higher this time, so high that I swear they almost touch my underwear.
“Oh God,” I groan, moving my head to the side and taking a deep breath. My nipples harden as he travels back down. I’m seconds away from begging him to touch me, to move his hands up higher, to relieve the pressure.
“Jesus, Mayhem,” he whispers, moving his hands back up again until they’re at the highest point of my inner thighs. I move my ass so his hands connect with my covered pussy and I moan, doing it again. “Indie,” he says breathlessly.
“Touch me. Please. Touch me.”
“Babe, this wasn’t my intention.”
“I don’t care,” I say, moving my ass again.
“Hell . . .” His hands pause, and I wait on bated breath, hoping and praying he crosses this next line with me. It almost feels like he’s not going to.
And then I feel the lightest touch along my ass. He moves down, lower, and lower.
“Motherfucker, Indie,” he says as his fingers connect with my pussy. “You’re soaked.”
“Please stroke me.” I reach down to the waistband of my underwear and lower them over my ass. “Remove these.”
“Are you . . . sure?” he asks, hesitant.
“More than sure.”
Slowly, he removes my underwear, and that’s when I spread even wider and I lift my ass ever so slightly, giving him a better angle.
“Fuck, Indie, this is so hot.” His thumb passes over my crease and then rubs against my aching and throbbing clit. When he connects with it, my head buries into the mattress and I let out a long moan. It’s been so long since I’ve had someone touch me here—since I’ve been this turned on—and I can feel myself unraveling quickly.
His thumb continues to apply pressure to my clit as his fingers splay out over my backside, and I ride his thumb, using my hips to apply pressure where I need it.
“In me. I want your fingers in me”
He drags some of my arousal back and then slips his fingers inside me.
“Oh fuck, that’s perfect. Oh Christ, Lincoln. I love your hands. I fucking love them.” I move my hips, making him pulse in and out of me, his thumb staying on my clit. I breathe heavily into the comforter as my veins tingle. The passion I have for this man starts to mount—climbing and climbing—sensations pulling me in every which way.
Pleasure burns through me. My stomach bottoms out. My clit shudders. And as I pulse one more time against him, my orgasm tips over the edge. Liquid fire rips through me, causing me to scream into the comforter as I come.
“Ride it out, babe,” he says, continuing to move his thumb over my clit, sending aftershocks of pleasure through me, until I can’t take it anymore and still.
Breathing heavily, I keep my head plastered to the bed as I fall from my orgasmic high. “Oh . . . my . . . God, Lincoln.” He chuckles and smooths his hand over my ass and up to my lower back and then back down.
“Feel good, Mayhem?”
“Amazing. I can’t remember the last time I came that hard.” Gradually, I sit up, the massage oil slippery against my legs. A shower is in order.
I stand from the bed and move right in front of him. I watch as his hungry eyes travel the length of my body. Why not give him an even better show? I reach to my sports bra and peel it off, tossing it to the ground. Lincoln’s eyes widen and then turn into molten lava when I climb onto his lap. His hands immediately go to my waist where he holds me in place, just in the right spot where I can feel how incredibly hard he is.
My hands fall to his chest, and then I move them to the hem of his shirt and peel it up and over his head.
Perfection. He’s absolute perfection.
I roam my hands over his sculpted shoulders and down to his pecs. “I seriously love your body so much, Lincoln. It’s such a turn-on, and I know I’m never going to get enough of it.”
“Same, Mayhem,” he says, his hands floating to my breasts. “Jesus, you’re so hot.” His thumbs drag over my nipples, and I suck in a sharp breath right before he brings one of my breasts to his mouth and sucks on it.
“Yes,” I sigh, tilting my head back, urging him to take charge. My hands slip into his hair and I tug as his mouth, teeth, and tongue work together over my breasts.
I’ve wanted this for so long, to move past friendship with Lincoln and become more intimate. I’ve wanted it so bad that when he’s at his own place and I’m dying with need, I masturbate to his image in the shower—wet and sculpted . . . so perfect.
His lips travel up my chest to my collarbone and then neck. I feel him suck and bite for a few seconds, and I don’t even care if he leaves a mark. I hope he does, so when I walk around tomorrow, people will know: I don’t just hold Lincoln’s hand around campus, but he’s actually mine.
I rub my bottom against his erection and after the first pass, his mouth pauses on my skin and he stills my hips.
“I can’t handle you dry-humping me, babe.” He peels away to look me in the eyes, and I see desperation, desire, and need for so much more.