Not So Nice Guy
Page 24
I shake my head. There’s no point in finishing that thought. Instead, I release her and step back so she has enough space to leave. She’s going to tug on the glass door and walk away. There will be sad puddles of water left in her wake. I’ll probably slip on one and eat shit on my way out of the shower.
She’s not moving though.
Her blue eyes are cartoonishly large as she stares up at me. There are so many thoughts flickering through her brain at once, I think she’s going to overheat.
“Sam?”
“Just be quiet for a second,” she snaps.
Slowly, painfully, her gaze drips down my face, across my neck and chest and abs, and then…lower. It’s the first time she’s really taken me in and, Jesus, I swear her jaw drops. Those rosy cheeks make me even harder, and now I think I’m scaring the poor girl.
I chuckle under my breath and reach over to open the glass door, giving her an easy out.
She yanks it closed again.
“I said be quiet!”
I haven’t said a word.
“What are you—”
I begin to ask a question I already know the answer to, but Sam is bending down on her knees in front of me. The glass fogs up. Steam rises. She sits back on her heels and I know the tile is probably digging into her knees, but she doesn’t care. In this new position, I block the shower spray from pelting her. She’s drenched and beautiful and licking her goddamn lips.
“I want to…” she begins on a whisper.
Now I’m the one overheating.
We’ve talked about blowjobs before and I know they aren’t usually Sam’s thing, but she’s looking at my dick like it’s an ice cream cone melting before her eyes.
“Step closer,” she begs.
I obey. Her hands hit my thighs immediately. Her fingers grip hard.
“God, you have the best legs.”
She’s staring straight at my penis and that’s what she says.
“Thanks? Is that what you needed a closer look for?”
“I mean obviously your…that is good too. I mean, it’s way bigger than I remember it being that one time I got a good peek, but I’ve always put your legs and your butt on a pedestal. That’s why I went comatose at the gym the other day.”
For emphasis, she reaches around with both hands and grabs my butt cheeks.
I chuckle and shake my head. “You’re the only woman I know who could turn a blowjob into a weird physical exam.”
She squeezes my butt twice like she’s honking a bicycle horn. “What do you mean? You’re not getting a blowjob. I’m just going to squeeze your butt for a while.”
“Hilarious.”
Her gaze settles back on the end goal and she wets her bottom lip again. A groan dies on my tongue. I don’t want to scare her.
“It’s been a while since I’ve done this.”
I laugh. “Yeah, you can save the awkwardness. I don’t care. It’s just us, Sam. Me and you.”
“Right.” She nods, growing confident enough to drag one of her hands back around to the front of my hip. Then she slowly reaches over and circles her palm around my dick. She has the softest, surest grip. My eyes roll back in my head. My hips jerk forward on instinct. “Sam,” I warn.
“I’m barely touching it!” she says defensively.
Yeah, I know. It’s been a fucking while since I’ve slept with someone, and also this fantasy has been building for, oh, I don’t know…a millennium. I won’t last for shit.
“Just don’t drag it out. Our entire time as friends has been a tease, foreplay. It’s been like five-play or six-play.”
She leans forward and presses a closed-mouth kiss to the tip. It’s adorable and I’m ascending to nirvana. I press my hand to the tiled wall behind her and she gets the hint. Her hand starts sliding up and down my length slowly. Water hits my shoulders and drags down my body, making her strokes wet and warm. She picks up the pace and she’s looking up at me. Her eyes are so open and earnest, it’s almost hard to meet them.
I’ve never had a handjob that felt this good. I don’t know if it’s her technique or how badly I’ve wanted it, like how on some days the diner burger you’ve eaten dozens of times tastes like five-star cuisine.
Eventually, when I’ve all but converted to Samanthaism, she leans forward and wraps her mouth around the tip. I’d throw my hands up in a hallelujah, but I’m in danger of collapsing on top of her. I have to keep ahold of the tile wall as she takes me in and out. It’s everything, the alpha and the omega: the sight of her full lips wrapped around my length, the feel of her warm mouth and the back of her throat. My stomach clenches and she takes me deeper.
Drops of water slide down her chin and neck and the top of her chest. I can see her breasts through her bra, two pink tips beneath blue lace. I reach down with one hand and circle my thumb there. Her eyes close and she moans. I feel the vibration in her throat and there’s no sensation better. I do it again and she speeds up, sucking me off with short, tight strokes. I don’t think I have blood circulating anywhere else in my body. It’s all headed south, as if every one of my trillions of red blood cells wants to be a part of this moment. I try to stave off an orgasm for as long as possible, which is a perfect microcosm of my relationship with Sam, a high-stakes battle between denial and submission.
Her hand clenches at the base of my dick, holding me steady as she pumps me in and out of her mouth even faster. Tingles start at the base of my spine. I’m seconds away from coming and I try to tell her so.
“Sam…I’m…”
Communication isn’t working for me. I tap on her head like I’m trying to turn off a blaring alarm clock.
She smiles, shakes her head, and keeps going.
I take my foot off the brakes after that. I lean down and wrap my hand around her neck and I fuck her mouth like I will one day fuck her. She holds still and opens up and takes everything like a good little Sam. I can hear her starting to struggle for breath, and I’m not trying to kill her, but in my head it’s suddenly a matter of life and death. I watch her eyes, knowing she’d tell me if she wanted to tap out, but there’s no fear there. She’s loving this as much as I am, and it’s that thought that finally sends me over the edge.
I close my eyes and groan as shocks of pleasure rack through my body. I pump into her mouth and her fingers dig into my lower back as she swallows and swallows some more.
It’s a slow descent back to reality. I think I must stand there in a haze for an hour or two. I’ve used up all the water on Earth before I think to turn back and cut the shower.
Sam pushes up to stand and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand like a goddamn champ. She’s smirking, proud of herself.
“Still with me?”
“Yes.”
“Aren’t going to freak out and run?”
“I don’t think I have the energy.”
“Well then, c’mon,” I say, stepping out and reaching for two towels. “Let’s go get you some ice for those knees.”
“Oh thank god. That tile hurts! That’s the last time I try to be sexy on a shower floor. From now on it’s a soft mattress or nothing, unless I can find those rollerblading kneepads.”
13
S A M
I’ve decided to take a newfangled approach to life in which I don’t think ten steps into the future and instead live in the moment. I endured four days without Ian and it sucked completely, so if I have to give him a blowjob in his shower to keep him around, so be it.
I want him. It’s obvious. What could possibly go wrong?
After our shower, I cook dinner in some clothes Ian loans me—an oversized t-shirt and baseball socks that stretch to my knees—and then we sit on his couch and watch The West Wing. The show holds 5% of my attention, the other 95% focused on Ian’s lips.
He’s aware of this because midway through the episode, he pauses it and turns to me. “We aren’t going to do anything else tonight.”
This is news to me. I was hoping we’d both at least make it to third base. I shaved my legs before coming over for a reason.
“Why’s that? Y’know, in Western society, the BJ is typically a quid pro quo sorta thing.”
She’s not moving though.
Her blue eyes are cartoonishly large as she stares up at me. There are so many thoughts flickering through her brain at once, I think she’s going to overheat.
“Sam?”
“Just be quiet for a second,” she snaps.
Slowly, painfully, her gaze drips down my face, across my neck and chest and abs, and then…lower. It’s the first time she’s really taken me in and, Jesus, I swear her jaw drops. Those rosy cheeks make me even harder, and now I think I’m scaring the poor girl.
I chuckle under my breath and reach over to open the glass door, giving her an easy out.
She yanks it closed again.
“I said be quiet!”
I haven’t said a word.
“What are you—”
I begin to ask a question I already know the answer to, but Sam is bending down on her knees in front of me. The glass fogs up. Steam rises. She sits back on her heels and I know the tile is probably digging into her knees, but she doesn’t care. In this new position, I block the shower spray from pelting her. She’s drenched and beautiful and licking her goddamn lips.
“I want to…” she begins on a whisper.
Now I’m the one overheating.
We’ve talked about blowjobs before and I know they aren’t usually Sam’s thing, but she’s looking at my dick like it’s an ice cream cone melting before her eyes.
“Step closer,” she begs.
I obey. Her hands hit my thighs immediately. Her fingers grip hard.
“God, you have the best legs.”
She’s staring straight at my penis and that’s what she says.
“Thanks? Is that what you needed a closer look for?”
“I mean obviously your…that is good too. I mean, it’s way bigger than I remember it being that one time I got a good peek, but I’ve always put your legs and your butt on a pedestal. That’s why I went comatose at the gym the other day.”
For emphasis, she reaches around with both hands and grabs my butt cheeks.
I chuckle and shake my head. “You’re the only woman I know who could turn a blowjob into a weird physical exam.”
She squeezes my butt twice like she’s honking a bicycle horn. “What do you mean? You’re not getting a blowjob. I’m just going to squeeze your butt for a while.”
“Hilarious.”
Her gaze settles back on the end goal and she wets her bottom lip again. A groan dies on my tongue. I don’t want to scare her.
“It’s been a while since I’ve done this.”
I laugh. “Yeah, you can save the awkwardness. I don’t care. It’s just us, Sam. Me and you.”
“Right.” She nods, growing confident enough to drag one of her hands back around to the front of my hip. Then she slowly reaches over and circles her palm around my dick. She has the softest, surest grip. My eyes roll back in my head. My hips jerk forward on instinct. “Sam,” I warn.
“I’m barely touching it!” she says defensively.
Yeah, I know. It’s been a fucking while since I’ve slept with someone, and also this fantasy has been building for, oh, I don’t know…a millennium. I won’t last for shit.
“Just don’t drag it out. Our entire time as friends has been a tease, foreplay. It’s been like five-play or six-play.”
She leans forward and presses a closed-mouth kiss to the tip. It’s adorable and I’m ascending to nirvana. I press my hand to the tiled wall behind her and she gets the hint. Her hand starts sliding up and down my length slowly. Water hits my shoulders and drags down my body, making her strokes wet and warm. She picks up the pace and she’s looking up at me. Her eyes are so open and earnest, it’s almost hard to meet them.
I’ve never had a handjob that felt this good. I don’t know if it’s her technique or how badly I’ve wanted it, like how on some days the diner burger you’ve eaten dozens of times tastes like five-star cuisine.
Eventually, when I’ve all but converted to Samanthaism, she leans forward and wraps her mouth around the tip. I’d throw my hands up in a hallelujah, but I’m in danger of collapsing on top of her. I have to keep ahold of the tile wall as she takes me in and out. It’s everything, the alpha and the omega: the sight of her full lips wrapped around my length, the feel of her warm mouth and the back of her throat. My stomach clenches and she takes me deeper.
Drops of water slide down her chin and neck and the top of her chest. I can see her breasts through her bra, two pink tips beneath blue lace. I reach down with one hand and circle my thumb there. Her eyes close and she moans. I feel the vibration in her throat and there’s no sensation better. I do it again and she speeds up, sucking me off with short, tight strokes. I don’t think I have blood circulating anywhere else in my body. It’s all headed south, as if every one of my trillions of red blood cells wants to be a part of this moment. I try to stave off an orgasm for as long as possible, which is a perfect microcosm of my relationship with Sam, a high-stakes battle between denial and submission.
Her hand clenches at the base of my dick, holding me steady as she pumps me in and out of her mouth even faster. Tingles start at the base of my spine. I’m seconds away from coming and I try to tell her so.
“Sam…I’m…”
Communication isn’t working for me. I tap on her head like I’m trying to turn off a blaring alarm clock.
She smiles, shakes her head, and keeps going.
I take my foot off the brakes after that. I lean down and wrap my hand around her neck and I fuck her mouth like I will one day fuck her. She holds still and opens up and takes everything like a good little Sam. I can hear her starting to struggle for breath, and I’m not trying to kill her, but in my head it’s suddenly a matter of life and death. I watch her eyes, knowing she’d tell me if she wanted to tap out, but there’s no fear there. She’s loving this as much as I am, and it’s that thought that finally sends me over the edge.
I close my eyes and groan as shocks of pleasure rack through my body. I pump into her mouth and her fingers dig into my lower back as she swallows and swallows some more.
It’s a slow descent back to reality. I think I must stand there in a haze for an hour or two. I’ve used up all the water on Earth before I think to turn back and cut the shower.
Sam pushes up to stand and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand like a goddamn champ. She’s smirking, proud of herself.
“Still with me?”
“Yes.”
“Aren’t going to freak out and run?”
“I don’t think I have the energy.”
“Well then, c’mon,” I say, stepping out and reaching for two towels. “Let’s go get you some ice for those knees.”
“Oh thank god. That tile hurts! That’s the last time I try to be sexy on a shower floor. From now on it’s a soft mattress or nothing, unless I can find those rollerblading kneepads.”
13
S A M
I’ve decided to take a newfangled approach to life in which I don’t think ten steps into the future and instead live in the moment. I endured four days without Ian and it sucked completely, so if I have to give him a blowjob in his shower to keep him around, so be it.
I want him. It’s obvious. What could possibly go wrong?
After our shower, I cook dinner in some clothes Ian loans me—an oversized t-shirt and baseball socks that stretch to my knees—and then we sit on his couch and watch The West Wing. The show holds 5% of my attention, the other 95% focused on Ian’s lips.
He’s aware of this because midway through the episode, he pauses it and turns to me. “We aren’t going to do anything else tonight.”
This is news to me. I was hoping we’d both at least make it to third base. I shaved my legs before coming over for a reason.
“Why’s that? Y’know, in Western society, the BJ is typically a quid pro quo sorta thing.”
