I have too many ideas. I’m running through every dirty thing I’ve ever thought of, every fantasy I’ve had but nothing seems right. Of course I blank out now, when Audrey’s looking at me like she’d very much appreciate another orgasm. In the pasta aisle at the supermarket I could think of forty two things I’d like to do to her.
She thinks we’re headed for the bed, but I keep on going right past it and down the stairs to the living room. Every curtain is open but I’ve got no neighbors who can see in. I walk around in here naked all the time. There sky is only half-dark though it’s nine o’clock - one of the few things I love about summer.
Audrey’s fingers are twisted in mine and she follows a step behind.. Her smooth skin glows and I decide that having a hot naked girl in my kitchen is something I should do more often. Whatever I’m going to do better be soon, before I’m too hard to walk. I could throw her onto this counter, or break in the dining room table I hardly ever use. The couch has seen a few bare asses but I don’t think Audrey has any innocent illusions about me. Porn looks great on my HDTV and when you shut the screen off it’s almost as reflective as a mirror. We look around like we might want to buy the place; me searching, her waiting.
I grab two beers from the fridge but when I turn to offer her one, her hands are full. She’s rolling a big, bright orange between her fingers; up one side and down the other. It’s the size of a softball and the strong, rhythmic way she rotates it between her palms sends a sharp stab of desire into my crotch.
She carves a line into the delicate rind with her thumbnail, hooks into the fruit and peels back a section to reveal the juicy flesh beneath. Then another section. Condensation from the bottles drips to the floor as I stare. She works another piece free, watching me watching her. Her long fingers move quickly, slipping between the fruits’ folds the way she might touch herself. The loud, tangy smell of orange drifts over to me.
I want that fruit.
Audrey lets her gaze drop, then drags it up my body. If she touched me it couldn’t feel stronger. The tiny pink tip of her tongue pokes into the corner of her smirk as she wrenches free the last bit of peel and breaks the bare fruit into two even pieces.
If she takes a bite, I’m going to attack her. If her teeth puncture the thin skin and spill the sweet nectar, I’m going to suck the juice right out of her mouth and lick it from her lips. I can taste it bursting on my tongue, saliva stinging at the back of my jaw as my mouth begins to water. Her lips will crush against the swollen sides and waste fat, precious drops of flavor.
A piece of fruit in each hand, she arches one eyebrow at me like a challenge.
____
He’s thinking again. It started in the bathtub when he wouldn’t fuck me, when he wanted me to go first and I could feel his competitive side roar to life. He will make me scream. He will have his way with me. He will take me again and again until there’s nothing but a chalk outline of my body on the floor because that’s how he plays. He wins. He dominates. He’s fucking sexy as hell and I’m about to climb out of my skin.
The only thing I want him to be thinking is that he couldn’t possibly come any harder.
So I get his attention with the orange, opening it so dramatically I could be cracking a safe. His thin bottom lip juts out as he watches my fingers. He licks his lips - he can taste the sugar high. I give that orange the best hand job in history while Steven stares. Only when he’s fully hard, when his cock throbs so thick and red that I think he might faint, do I squeeze the first half of the orange right above the space between my breasts.
Gotcha.
Steven’s on me before the first drop reaches my stomach. The flat of his tongue is everywhere, catching the spill as it courses over my skin and licking me clean. He moans like he was dying of thirst. I grab onto the counter as he tries to take us both down; he relents with a huge arm around my middle and drags me as far as the edge of the carpet.
Before he’s on his knees I’m sliding low so his legs line up under my outstretched arms. He catches my intention with a look of surprise, but I’ve already got one hand around his cock. Those ice blue eyes close as I gently kiss the glistening tip.
“Fuck yes.” He leans over, hands on the floor somewhere above my head, and presses his length right down my throat.
I almost gag. I almost fucking choke. But it feels so good for him - the tension in his thighs could swing a suspension bridge. His lower back rolls, pulling his hips slightly and allowing me to get a breath before he does it again.
His stomach is rock hard, directionals like cliffs pointing right toward the spot where my lips meet his skin. I press my hand to his stomach, raising him slightly and sliding my mouth over his shaft.
“Fuuuuuuuuck,” he says.
He likes it when I move. Steven gives me a little more room and I reward him with a few swirls of my tongue. His eyes are closed; that beautiful, battered face hangs low as he struggles for breath. My eyes can’t decide where to settle - the bulk of his pecs, the definition of his biceps, the width of his shoulders blocking the light and leaving him almost in silhouette. I take him deep again, farther this time because I’m ready for it, and feel his body winding up like a slingshot.
“I’m gonna come,” he warns me. “And then I’m going to fuck you so hard....”
I guide him forward again and let him fuck my mouth the way he wants to. After all this is his fantasy too. I gasp in breaths as quickly as I can between thrusts and help myself to the impossibly firm shape of his ass in my hands.
The first burst of his hot spray hits my tongue before he groans, loud and long, spilling two more loads. I choke down a swallow in the second between strokes and greedily let him drain down my throat. He’s still for a long moment, eyes shut, before gingerly pulling from between my lips and collapsing next to me.
____
I see stars. For the second time tonight I wait for the room to stop spinning, for the blood to return to my brain before I can process thought.
I have never come so hard in my life.
Audrey turns onto her side, one arm bent beneath her head and dark hair spilling across the carpet. There’s a smudge of my mess just below her bottom lip; I like the way it looks. She rolls onto her stomach, resting on her elbows and raising her feet into the air like she’s reading a book at the beach. Her hair falls over her shoulders and spills down her back - I wonder if it tickles. I want to run my fingers over her skin, find where she’s ticklish, if she has any sore spots like the one she discovered on me.
From nowhere she produces the second part of that orange, pulls off a section and bites it in half.
I haul myself up to sitting. My tender cock aches at the sight of her tan body against the pale carpet. The slope of her side, the curve of her thigh... shit.
“Oh my God.” I reach down to her ass and place my palm over one bright red, carpet-burned cheek. “I am so sorry! Jesus, I didn’t mean to hurt you!” I immediately sweep her hair away - sure enough, the top of her back between her shoulders is pretty raw too. I touch it gingerly.
I’m that guy, I think. I’m that asshole who doesn’t think about the girl, just takes what he wants. There are two matching crimson stars across the most perfect ass I’ve ever seen. I have to look away.
“Audrey! Why didn’t you say something?”
But she just laughs, a slice of orange disappearing between her lips. “My mouth was full.”
I scramble to my feet, wondering where we left that ice pack, but the movement is too quick. My equilibrium is swimming around in her stomach. The room tilts violently and I stagger to one side, trying to balance.
“Woah,” she’s next to me in a flash. Her head dips beneath my arm and she holds my waist. “Easy, tiger.”
It just takes a second to settle. My blood redistributes and the dizzy spell clears... nearly leading to another because Audrey is naked and wrapped around me. I have nearly killed myself twice fucking this girl, have put her pleasure at the top of my list of short-term life goals, but I’ve never really properly hugged her. Now seems like a good time.
It catches her off guard. I carefully avoid her shoulders as I pull her into my chest, then lace my fingers together behind her back. Her eyes narrow.
“Are you okay?” I ask seriously.
She nods. “Are you?”
“Mostly.”
Audrey’s touch is feather light across the bridge of my nose. Her thumb sweeps beneath my left eye and I know I look worse than I did this morning. Tomorrow will be even more, and it’ll be days before the real bruising sets in. Guess it’s a good thing I met her today. The tiny crease in her brow is so full of sympathy that I could curl up and sleep if I knew she’d still be here when I woke.
____
The hollow beneath each eye is the color between indigo and violet where they blend together in the rainbow. The right side is starting to swell.
“You are beautiful,” I hear myself say to him. That just spoke on it’s own. I did not give my brain permission to talk.
“I never really realized it till today.”
Jesus. His come must be like truth serum because suddenly I can’t stop.
“But you’re perfect.”
He looks like he’s going to cry. Either it’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to him or he’s in complete agony over his injuries. I’m betting the second. People must tell him the first part all the time. He puts his face into my neck, the way sometimes pressure feels good on pain, and I stand hugging naked Steven Stamkos in his living room like everything in life is perfectly normal.
“What day is tomorrow?”
“Monday. Memorial Day.” Then my orgasm-addled brain adds, “I’m off work.”
Steven lifts his lips just to my ear. “Me too.”
_
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