Ass Up and Waiting for What Doesn't Come

Chapter 29

I couldn't take it anymore.

When he paused to catch his breath, I cut in, voice low and heavy, eyes locked on his.

"Do you want to fuck me?"

Silence hit the room like a weight. He blinked, mouth half-open, eyes darkening. The laptop kept humming open, screen glowing, but nobody was looking at it anymore.

My whole body was shaking. My hand still down my jeans, fingers frozen on my throbbing clit. I didn't pull it out—I kept touching myself, the anxiety of his answer almost making me cum right in front of him.

He turned to me in the chair, slow, like his body couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing. His face froze when he realized what I was doing. My hand still in my jeans, fingers glistening wet, that sweet, hot scent rising up between us. I pulled my hand out slow, no rush, and held it out to him, showing off.

"Look…"

My fingers were soaked, like sticky glue. The juice dripped slow between my index and middle finger, shining under the ceiling light. My whole body trembled lightly, thighs squeezed together, jeans unzipped in front, panties tugged to the side.

He was stunned. Mouth half-open, eyes darkening, breath stopping for a second. It wasn't disgust shock. It was desire shock. He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing, and then—without a word—he grabbed my hand. His fingers warm wrapping mine, bringing them to his mouth. He parted his lips and started licking. Slow at first, flat tongue sliding over my palm, then between the fingers, sucking each one like he wanted to taste every bit. The wet sounds, the soft suction, the heat of his mouth wrapping my soaked fingers. He sucked hard, eyes locked on mine, moaning low in his throat, his cock hardening visibly in his pants.

I couldn't hold back. I reached out with my free hand and placed it over his pants, feeling the hard cock, hot, pulsing against my palm. I squeezed lightly, feeling the bulge, the heat, the thick shape stretching the fabric. He moaned louder, mouth still full of my fingers, tongue swirling, licking my taste. He stood up from the chair sudden, body pressing into mine, his hand going to my neck, pulling me into a kiss.

His mouth came hungry, tongue invading, salty from my own taste mixed with spit. I didn't kiss back hard—I let him do it. Just opened my mouth, let him in, let him devour me. His hand slid down, squeezing my small tit over my shirt, the nipple hardening instantly, aching with lust. The other hand went to my open jeans, fingers slipping under my panties, finding my swollen clit and rubbing hard, fast, like he knew exactly what I needed.

I moaned into his mouth, low and rough, body going limp against his, letting him touch me, kiss me, take me. The horniness was so intense my legs felt weak. Wetness dripping down my thighs, the smell of sex filling the room, his cock throbbing against my hand over his pants. He pushed me lightly against the wall, mouth dropping to my neck, nipping lightly, licking the skin, while his fingers plunged into my wet pussy, two at once, curling inside, hitting the spot that made me see stars.

I barely moved. Just took it. Let it happen. My whole body shaking, orgasm building fast, hot, unstoppable. I was gonna cum on his hand, right there, pressed against my bedroom wall, with Lucas eating me with his fingers and mouth on my neck.

His fingers inside me sped up. Two deep, thumb circling my clit with perfect pressure. The pleasure surged quick, tight, inevitable. My belly clenched hard, pussy squeezing around his fingers, pulsing in rhythm. I came on his hand. My body locked for a full second, then shook in deep waves, wetness pouring out like a river, dripping on the bedroom floor. A rough moan escaped low, muffled against his shoulder, back arching on its own, small tits brushing his shirt. The orgasm lasted seconds that felt like minutes—empty spasms, clit throbbing sensitive, the emptiness filled for a second before coming back stronger.

When the shaking passed, I slid down slow, without a word. I knelt in front of him. Pulled his zipper down with still-trembling fingers, undid the button, tugged his boxers down with it. His cock sprang out—small, thin, and short. The pink head tiny. This would be the first small cock I'd ever handled in my life. All I knew was I wanted it in my mouth. I pressed my lips to the head, licked slow, tasting the salty, bitter flavor. I took it all in at once—it fit easy. Sucked hard, swallowing everything, throat relaxed, nose brushing his crotch. He moaned loud, hand in my hair, holding the ponytail without pulling.

I bobbed up and down slow, then faster, spit drooling from the corners of my mouth, wetting my chin. He shook all over, thighs tense, moaning rough.

When he saw he was about to cum, he pulled me up, hands shaking. We stripped quick—shirt, jeans, panties, everything hitting the floor. He led me to the bed, but first I turned and looked at him, voice low, rough, heavy with lust.

"How do you want to fuck me?"

The answer to that question, when asked to a guy, is always the same: doggy style.

He didn't say a word. Just turned me slow, hands firm on my slim hips, getting me on my knees on the bed. I leaned on my elbows, ass up, legs spread a bit, body limp with lust and waiting. I didn't say anything, didn't ask for anything. Just let it be. That's how I liked it—passive, receiving, no effort.

He knelt behind me. I felt the heat of his breath first, hot and damp hitting my bare skin straight on. Then his tongue. Slow, flat, licking from bottom to top, from the entrance to my swollen clit. I sighed low, rough, body trembling lightly. He spread my outer lips with his thumbs, opening everything up, and sucked slow, pulling my whole clit into his mouth, then licking in quick circles. Wetness dripped, soaking the sheets, the pornographic sounds filling the empty room.

And then something new came.