Page 27 of Keeping it Casual
His laugh is choked off when I take him back in my mouth again. He puts a hand in my hair as he thrusts into me.
I continue to work him with my mouth, sucking hard on every downward slide.
Dustin’s hand falls away from my head, and he thrusts harder and harder, panting and groaning.
His cock is so hard, so hot in my mouth.
“I’m close,” he says, his voice strained.
Hearing the husky desperation in his voice causes me to double my efforts, and he comes apart in my mouth.
“Yum. Definitely salted caramel. Sweet and salty,” I say as I pull off.
He’s laughing as he pulls me into his lap, tugging off my clothes.
Then he’s kissing me so thoroughly that it’s like he’s doing an audit of my mouth. I’m definitely not complaining.
I love how his hands explore my skin, like touching me is something he can’t get enough of.
When he finally grips my cock and starts pumping, it doesn’t take more than a few strokes before my balls clench and intense waves of pleasure shoot through me.
We rest our foreheads against each other, still breathing hard, before our mouths find each other for one last lingering kiss.
Then I climb off him to grab some wet wipes to clean up the mess, which is another object that has recently made its way into my desk drawers.
We go to the bathroom to wash our hands, grinning at each other, before heading into the tiny kitchenette in my minuscule staff room to have lunch. The table is so small that our knees knock. Not that I’m complaining.
This is the friend part of friends with benefits, which is almost—almost—as much fun as the benefits part.
Because it feels like Dustin and I have become good friends very fast.
I guess that happens when you see each other every weekday and message constantly.
I don’t quite know how we fell into the habit of messaging each other so much—it started with him messaging me the day after the pub, checking to see if I was okay. Now messages fly back and forward between us constantly. Sometimes they are serious conversations, where we talk about our childhoods, families, jobs, and what we want in the future. But sometimes they’re fun and lighthearted, where we send stuff to make each other laugh.
Last night we had an epic two-hour debate about whichStar Warsfilm was the best. I’m not quite sure whether to class that in the lighthearted or serious category. We both have impassioned views on the subject.
There’s one thing I didn’t want to ask him in a message, so I bring it up now as I unwrap my tuna sandwich. “Did I tell you about the big shindig I’m having at my place next weekend?”
A crease forms on his forehead. “No, I don’t think so.”
“It’s for Lucy’s birthday, but really, it’s just an excuse to get a lot of people together for a party. Do you want to come? Half the town is coming. Like, it’s not a big deal if you don’t want to come, but I thought, you know, you and Lachie might want to meet some more people. If peopling is your thing. It’s fine if it’s not though. No expectations.”
I’m epically butchering this invite. Apparently, I’m more nervous about inviting Dustin than I realized.
“Sure, sounds like fun,” he says, and the tightness in my chest eases.
“Great.”
“Is Emily going to be there?”
And now the tightness is back.
“Of course she’ll be there. She’s Lucy’s mum.”
“How do you find doing joint things like this with her?” he asks.
“Oh, you know, it’s all fun and games. Talking about funand games, you should see some of the games we’ve planned. You might want to brush up your skills for pin the tail on the donkey. And limbo. Actually, you might be a natural at that. You have proven yourself to be quite bendy.”
