giggle.
“You have a really pretty penis,” she informs me.
Shifting, I reach down and begin to pull my boxers back up to cover myself, not really in the mood for a hot girl to start talking to my erection, but she pushes my hand away.
“Stop that! It’s so pretty. I want to know if it tastes as good as it looks.”
Oh, hell yeah. I’m definitely up for a blow job, and I rest my head back against the couch, more than ready for her. She leans her head forward and takes me into her mouth. All of me. I swear my dick’s touching the back of her throat, and it feels so good. So fucking good. That is, until she begins to withdraw. I inhale sharply.
“Teeth! Fucking Jesus Christ, no teeth!”
The scraping stops and she gives me an apologetic smile before she proceeds to bob up and down, not going nearly as far and, thankfully, no longer using her teeth to scrape my skin. I lean my head against the back of the couch as I enjoy Kelsey’s mouth on me. I’m pretty damn proud of myself for lasting this long, but a small part of me wonders if I were with Andi if I’d already have exploded. Kelsey’s good, but she’s no Andi. I immediately feel bad at the thought and drive all thoughts, all images, all anything of Andi outside of my mind and focus on who I’m here with.
All of a sudden, Kelsey stops sucking me and lays her head down on my lap, my erection apparently acting as her pillow. “I’m so tired and this is taking too long. Can I finish tomorrow?” she asks sleepily, and before I can even answer, she’s already snoring.
With a heavy sigh, I lift her up just enough so I can slip out from under her and off the couch. I fumble with my jeans and find my shirt before grabbing my phone and calling a cab, not caring or wanting her to finish tomorrow. When she wakes up, I want to be a long gone. Not that it matters. She probably won’t even remember it. Which is my fault, anyway. I should’ve known she was too far gone to actually do anything, and it’s not like I came here expecting to get some. Yeah, I figured something would happen, but that was before she drank half her weight in Captain Morgan. I should’ve stopped her the minute she touched me, but it’s not the easiest thing to tell a warm, inviting mouth no, especially when I’ve had my fair share of alcohol, too. Sighing at my stupidity, I wait outside for the cab, desperate to escape this place.
When the cab drops me off at the dorm, a thought crosses my mind. Was this how Andi felt the morning she slipped out of my dorm? I sure as hell hope not, because even through my alcohol-induced haze, I feel like shit. Drunken hookups are officially crossed off my list. And suddenly I realize that I’m still overanalyzing things even though I told myself I’d stop. What fucking good is booze if it still doesn’t make my brain stop thinking clearly?
When I fall on to my bed, I stare up at the ceiling, wondering what the hell I’m doing and how things in my life seem so complicated when just two months ago I was headed off to college, more interested in my course load than anything. Yet here I am, an overly analytical asshole. That’s what I feel like, and it’s kind of true. This is me, unlike ever before. Cohen Wellington. Oh for two. Fuck my life. College is a lot harder than I thought, and I’m not even talking about academics.
I SIGH with relief as I walk into my dorm. After spending a long weekend at home, visiting my parents, I feel exhausted and more than grateful that I can get away from Bethel whenever I want. Dad wanted to know all about classes and if I’d determined a major. Mom wanted to know all about the boys on campus and if I’d met anyone special. Riley, my older brother, who also happened to be home, wanted to know if I had any hot friends for him to visit whenever he was in town. The answers, respectively, were no, no, and a very emphatic no.
All I need is for Riley to walk onto campus and have all the girls
“You have a really pretty penis,” she informs me.
Shifting, I reach down and begin to pull my boxers back up to cover myself, not really in the mood for a hot girl to start talking to my erection, but she pushes my hand away.
“Stop that! It’s so pretty. I want to know if it tastes as good as it looks.”
Oh, hell yeah. I’m definitely up for a blow job, and I rest my head back against the couch, more than ready for her. She leans her head forward and takes me into her mouth. All of me. I swear my dick’s touching the back of her throat, and it feels so good. So fucking good. That is, until she begins to withdraw. I inhale sharply.
“Teeth! Fucking Jesus Christ, no teeth!”
The scraping stops and she gives me an apologetic smile before she proceeds to bob up and down, not going nearly as far and, thankfully, no longer using her teeth to scrape my skin. I lean my head against the back of the couch as I enjoy Kelsey’s mouth on me. I’m pretty damn proud of myself for lasting this long, but a small part of me wonders if I were with Andi if I’d already have exploded. Kelsey’s good, but she’s no Andi. I immediately feel bad at the thought and drive all thoughts, all images, all anything of Andi outside of my mind and focus on who I’m here with.
All of a sudden, Kelsey stops sucking me and lays her head down on my lap, my erection apparently acting as her pillow. “I’m so tired and this is taking too long. Can I finish tomorrow?” she asks sleepily, and before I can even answer, she’s already snoring.
With a heavy sigh, I lift her up just enough so I can slip out from under her and off the couch. I fumble with my jeans and find my shirt before grabbing my phone and calling a cab, not caring or wanting her to finish tomorrow. When she wakes up, I want to be a long gone. Not that it matters. She probably won’t even remember it. Which is my fault, anyway. I should’ve known she was too far gone to actually do anything, and it’s not like I came here expecting to get some. Yeah, I figured something would happen, but that was before she drank half her weight in Captain Morgan. I should’ve stopped her the minute she touched me, but it’s not the easiest thing to tell a warm, inviting mouth no, especially when I’ve had my fair share of alcohol, too. Sighing at my stupidity, I wait outside for the cab, desperate to escape this place.
When the cab drops me off at the dorm, a thought crosses my mind. Was this how Andi felt the morning she slipped out of my dorm? I sure as hell hope not, because even through my alcohol-induced haze, I feel like shit. Drunken hookups are officially crossed off my list. And suddenly I realize that I’m still overanalyzing things even though I told myself I’d stop. What fucking good is booze if it still doesn’t make my brain stop thinking clearly?
When I fall on to my bed, I stare up at the ceiling, wondering what the hell I’m doing and how things in my life seem so complicated when just two months ago I was headed off to college, more interested in my course load than anything. Yet here I am, an overly analytical asshole. That’s what I feel like, and it’s kind of true. This is me, unlike ever before. Cohen Wellington. Oh for two. Fuck my life. College is a lot harder than I thought, and I’m not even talking about academics.
I SIGH with relief as I walk into my dorm. After spending a long weekend at home, visiting my parents, I feel exhausted and more than grateful that I can get away from Bethel whenever I want. Dad wanted to know all about classes and if I’d determined a major. Mom wanted to know all about the boys on campus and if I’d met anyone special. Riley, my older brother, who also happened to be home, wanted to know if I had any hot friends for him to visit whenever he was in town. The answers, respectively, were no, no, and a very emphatic no.
All I need is for Riley to walk onto campus and have all the girls
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