The Friend Zone

I’ve had sex more times than I want to think about. Girls have gone down on me, done all they can to impress me. But take care of me? Kiss their way around my body like it’s some divine experience? Never. Not like Ivy.

My hands shake a little as I touch Ivy’s hair, pushing it back so I can see her face. “Hey,” I whisper. “Turn around, so I can take care of you too.” This I know. I want to taste her, lose myself in making her feel good.

But she shakes her head, her hands gliding down my sides. “Not now. This is for you.”

Glossy brown hair slides over my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Throat tight, I glance down, take in the sheen of her skin, those long, lean thighs, the way her tits sway as she moves. So damn beautiful. The tightness in my throat becomes a lump, and I swallow hard, draw in an unsteady breath. “Mac.”

At the sound of my voice, she lifts her head, her eyes meeting mine. I blink rapidly, my heart pushing against my ribs. And she smiles, a soft curving of rosy lips, then presses a light kiss to my side. I feel it in my toes.

Ivy is trying to torture me, it’s clear. Her sly tongue follows the line of my hip, runs along my abs, goes everywhere but where I want her to be. My cock lifts as if trying to flag her down, begging for attention. Finally, she gives the head a lazy little lick, and I practically swallow my tongue.

She’s done this before, but now, after kissing her for so long, I’m strung tight as a wire, sensitive to every touch. When she sucks me in, I moan so loud it sounds like a plea, my eyes squeezing shut, heat rippling over my skin.

My hand falls to the crown of her head. I hold her there, slowly pump my dick in and out of her willing mouth. She hums, the vibration going straight to my balls. My grip tightens. “So fucking good, honey. Like that. God, like that.”

Ivy grips my length as she sucks, then goes so deep, her mouth sliding over her fingers too. When she draws back, her wet fingers trail between my thighs, parting them. I let her do it, my muscles twitching under her hands. She caresses my balls, my ass, all the while sucking and licking my cock in a slow, steady attack.

“I love your mouth.” Watching her pink lips stretch around my dick is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. And I almost miss it when her fingers slip down past my balls. Almost. Only her fingertip circles a place no one has ever touched.

My ass clenches, but I don’t move. I can’t. Her boldness has me off kilter. Blood rushes through my ears. Half of my focus is on her warm, wet mouth, the other half on that finger. It’s kind of kinky, and fuck if that doesn’t make my dick go even harder.

She strokes me, the lightest of touches. And it feels good. Too good. With a little groan, she sucks me deep and then pushes that finger against me, seeking entry. I shouldn’t let her do this. It’s too much.

“Mac? I don’t know about… Ah… Oh, fucking hell.” Her finger slides in, a strange invasion that sets my body on fire. “Jesus, fuck…”

Chest heaving, I fight to stay still. God, but I want to rock my hips, push against that finger. Because it’s so indecent, so fucking erotic and good I grit my teeth, so close to coming that I can feel it rising up my balls. And then she hits a spot that stops my breath, maybe my heart.

“Oh fuck, Mac.” I thrust into her mouth, writhe against her hand. Which makes me feel it more. She’s taking me. Me, the one always in control. She making love to me with her mouth and fucking me with her finger. It’s so intense, I don’t think, only pant and move with her as if my life depends on it.

My hand slides from her hair, slams to the bed to grasp the covers as I arch up into her mouth, my entire body drawing tight. Pleasure punches through me. I come so hard, the room turns hazy.

Kristen Callihan's books