Page 9 of Colossal
“Can I look under your little skirt?” His right-hand flies to his arousal, squeezing it with a groan, as if posing the question has caused him pain. “Just for a second.”
“I’m afraid,” I whisper.
“Then I won’t,” he says, adamantly. “I shouldn’t even have aske—”
“I’m afraid for you to see how wet I am.” I look him in the eye while I slide my knees wide open, the pleats of my skirt tickling the sides of my thighs, cool air confirming exactly how soaked I am, plastering the damp, sparkling material to my sex. “You’re going to know how badly I want to try sex for the first time. With you.”
With a strangled curse, Eric stoops over, supporting himself on the edge of the desk, his teeth gritted together, his hand molding the ridge behind his fly while he devours the sight of my drenched underwear. “Fuck. Fuck. I’m going to come.”
Exhilaration takes hold inside of me at the proof I’m not the only one who wants. Whoneeds.Who gets desperate for physical relief and doesn’t know how to handle the pressure. I’m torn between wanting to watch him climax in his pants and wanting to prolong this moment. This perfect moment in the deserted classroom where we are running on pure anticipation.
In the end, I decide I want to experience his orgasm with him.
I want to be a part of it.
Keeping my thighs open, I grip the front of his shirt and bring him down on top of me, his mouth conforming to mine in the kiss that I’ve always dreamed of. Always needed. His lips are ardent and adoring and desperate, pushing mine open to introduce his tongue, which I welcome with a whimper, moisture trickling along the flesh of my sex when he grunts and goes into overdrive, kissing me voraciously, like his aggression has been pent up.
He needs to burn it off.
With me.
Our mouths are insatiable and the rest of me follows suit, getting hot and anxious for more, his tongue delving past my lips over and over and over, until I’m practically squealing into his mouth and trying to unfasten his jeans. I just want to touch him. Want to touch him so bad, and he encourages me with a moan, deepening the kiss, making it so rough that my lips are getting delightfully sore, my tongue remaining starved for the taste of him.
Oh lord, that musk and pine scent is disorienting me, increasing the temperature of my blood and now, now I have his pants unzipped and he’s feeding the brutal weight of his erection into my hands, helping me stroke. Grunting like a big beast while we kiss like there’s no tomorrow and I pump his humungous shaft for everything I’m worth.
“Come all over me, Daddy,” I whisper in between kisses, my filter having disintegrated and now I’m bold, like one of my imaginary characters. Speaking out loud on behalf of my body that has been plagued by hormones that I don’t know how to sate. “I want my wet skirt to slap against my thighs all day and know you made it that way.” I baby talk up at him, nipping at his chin. “I want to be such a bad girl for your cock.”
“Oh my God! Oh fuck. Oh fuck!” Eric goes stiff as a board, his mouth gaped and panting against my temple—and that’s when I feel it. His hot, gluey come. As soon as it starts splashing and pooling on my belly, I know I’ve found my fixation.
This fluid…it represents his pleasure. His secrets. It’s the sacred seed of life. And I’m the one who made it spurt out. I communicated with his body that he was safe to give me his pain and there it is, dripping down the sides of my ribcage, soaking into my skirt, panties, even the tippy tops of my stockings. And still he groans brokenly, more and more and more glorious come leaving his tip and raining down on me. Flooding me.
“Next time, will you put it in my mouth?Please?” I dig my nails into the meat of his back and haul him closer with all my might, even though he’s so much bigger and stronger. He flattens his chest to my breasts, and we go back to pumping his fat prick. “I want more come. I want more come.” He convulses, shaking while another load gets pumped onto my tummy and frantically, I lift the waistband of my panties with one hand, shoving as much of his spend down to glaze my pussy. “It’s so hot and sticky. I love it. Don’t stop.”
“I can’t,” he chokes out, unloading one more time, looking almost embarrassed about it, while I’m in complete awe of his abilities. “I can’t stop coming on you.”
Oh, my goodness. Wow.
He’d have no problem getting me pregnant.
That errant thought triggers something deep, deep inside of me and I scream behind my teeth, my hips elevating and twisting while the lust escalates in intensity, so much, so much that I go blind with need and my sex constricts, pulsing, pulsing, a kind of relief that I’ve been chasing my whole life cascading through me, tightening and releasing the inner walls of my flesh until I’m drawing blood on his back, it feels so good. So good. So good.
“Eric!”
“I’ve got you, Fairy Tale. I’m here.”
When I finally come down from the euphoria, Eric is staring down at me like I’m a miracle being performed in front of his very eyes, while he struggles to catch his breath.
“Christ, Marlow. Where the hell did you come from?”
This morning? From a locked attic, where I’ve spent most of my teen years. Praying for a hero like him to come along and save me. “It doesn’t matter,” I whisper, bringing his mouth down to mine, just as the bell rings. “I’m yours now.”
Chapter 5
Eric
It’s game time, but I can’t focus.
Usually, I have zero problem concentrating. Preparing to tend goal. But I’m sitting in the locker room, surrounded by the usual metal slams and dick jokes and the sound of tape ripping, but I might as well be on a different planet. My mind is fixated on Marlow and what we did in that classroom. The sweet shape of her tits in my hands. Her magic mouth. The beautifully horny shit she says to me.Out loud.
