“You’re breaking up with me?” I asked softly, my eyes focused on the grey city skyline beyond the bedroom window.
“Not… breaking up,” Ivan said uncomfortably. “I just think we should… y’know… have a break.”
I literally could not believe the audacity of this man. Here we were, lying naked in his bed on a Sunday morning and he’d chosen now
to end our four year relationship. I felt the tears creep into my eyes and hurriedly blinked them away. Now was not a good time to turn on the fucking waterworks. My thoughts drifted back to the night we’d just had - I couldn’t understand how it had turned out so wrong in the space of a couple of hours. Maybe he’d been planning this for a while… maybe I just wasn’t good enough for him anymore…
“Say something,” Ivan said quietly and I turned to look at him. At least he had the decency to appear ashamed of himself.
“It’s just a surprise,” I murmured, not trusting myself to speak out loud in case my voice broke. I wondered momentarily whether I should have given in to some of his kinkier sexual fantasies but forced myself to quash the thought. Just be yourself
, I remembered my friends saying to me. Apparently though, Lily Jones wasn’t enough for Mr. Fucking Perfect. The sorrow in me suddenly gave way to anger and I had to clench my teeth together hard to stop myself from screaming out loud.
“I’m sorry,” Ivan muttered and his hand brushed through my hair like a five-forked serpent. “I just think we’ve… run our course.”
I swallowed hard and briefly considered the courses of action available to me:
a) Tell him what an arrogant, man-whorish asshole he is.
b) Give in to my emotions and cry my eyes out.
c) Take the high horse.
After a moment of serious deliberation, I decided to take the high horse. Which was a shame, since the only horse I’d ever ridden was a pony at Blackpool beach and that didn’t exactly qualify as high.
“Don’t be sorry,” I said, in as steady a voice as I could manage. “It’s not your fault.” Though how it could be someone else’s fault was totally beyond me. The thought triggered a sudden question and I hesitated. “Is there someone else?”
Ivan’s silence told me all I needed to know and before long I got out of there, not on a high horse but in a cab, my throat aching with unshed tears.
I didn’t wallow in self-pity for long though. That would have been a one-way road to depression and Ivan wasn’t a good enough excuse for me to get tanked up on happy-pills. So instead of moping around, I put on a brave face and decided to go through life single and happy.
After the first couple of who-needs-men-when-you-have-girlfriends nights out, I began to let myself relax a little. Men weren’t the answer to every single problem; it was more like they were the cause
of them. For a while, I started to think that life as a twenty-something singleton was to be recommended. In fact, it was fun.
I had it all figured about. Forget about Ivan, forget about men as a whole and just get the fuck on with your life. It was sound advice, something my father would have probably said (albeit with a fair few more profanities.) Point is, I wasn’t going to get with anyone
, no-one at all. That is, until I had the spare time of day. Oh, and an indestructible heart of course.
But when Oscar sauntered into my life, all my good intentions flew straight out of the window.
The first time I saw him was at an evening accountancy convention, the sort of event I usually steered clear of. Truth be told, I’d planned on going home and watching some low budget sitcoms but the email clearly stated ‘free drinks’ and that was definitely not something I was going to turn down.
By the time I’d realized that the drinks alluded to were wholly non-alcoholic, it was too late. I was there sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the crowd of stereotypical accountants. Most of them were male, most of them were white, and some of them were even wearing horn-rimmed glasses. They stood there, networking during the interval, giving me their business cards and talking about the latest changes to fiscal policy which I knew nothing about.
The venue made up for it though. The lecture was being held at the Redgrave Hotel, just outside of the city center. From the outside it looked like an average new-build but the inside was a different story. It was the most beautiful building I’d ever been in. The conference hall had a whole wall made of glass, looking out onto the busy city below. It was cleaner than clean. Even the mirrors in the elevators sparkled to perfection.
And then there was the tea. When I finally excused myself from yet another suited-and-booted pale-male, I found myself spoilt for choice at the refreshments table. There were more than twenty different varieties of tea. Raspberry, chamomile, green, peppermint, ginger… I opted for vanilla chai and took a tentative sip. Needless to say, it was delicious.
Before I had time to find a seat to enjoy it though, I found yet another business card being offered to me.
I pasted my attentive smile on and followed the extended hand up to see someone who totally broke the stereotype. My smile froze. Accountants weren’t meant to be this good looking… ever. He was tall with dark hair, and he had the sharpest blue eyes, dark and intelligent.
“Oscar Bradley,” he said as I fumbled to take the card, very nearly dropping my drink which he gallantly rescued.
I pretended to understand what his job title meant and offered him my own card.
“Lily Jones, huh?” He looked from me to the card and back again. “Are you Welsh then?”
I had to roll my eyes. “Yeah, if you go back a century or two perhaps.”
A smile briefly crossed his mouth and his eyes flicked down my body, taking in my attire, before resting on my face. I found myself wishing I was wearing something other than my work clothes; it was clear that Oscar was the only person in the room who could make a suit look flattering.
“So,” he said, slipping my card into his pocket. “I’ve not seen you at one of these things before.”
I shrugged. “Well, this is definitely a one-off.”
“Really?” He took a gulp of my tea. “Why’s that then?”
“I can’t have a normal conversation with any of these people and the one person who looks like he might
be worth a shot, is drinking my
Oscar grinned. “Mighty nice tea it is too.” And he took another sip.
I narrowed my eyes and made to fetch myself a fresh cup. Oscar watched me, his eyes sparkling with what looked suspiciously like amusement.
“So, aside from stealing tea, what is it you actually do?” I asked condescendingly.
For some reason, Oscar didn’t seem to pick up on my attitude as he went on to tell me exactly what his job involved and where he’d worked and trained.
“Myer Robinson?” I interrupted halfway through his admittedly impressive résumé. “That’s where I apprenticed!”
“For real?” Oscar’s eyes widened and then he laughed. “Hey, is that thirty-stone receptionist still working there?”
“Yeah, but she’s like a size ten now! She did this Weight-Watchers program.”
“No shit?!” Oscar grinned broadly. “So, who else is still there?”
Half an hour of animated conversation ensued and as his jokes wore on, I found myself more and more at ease with Oscar. He had a wicked sense of humor and a lighthearted disposition to match. Truth be told, by the time the evening ended I couldn’t help being a little disappointed that I probably wouldn’t ever see him again.
I booked myself into another lecture. I told myself it was because I was looking to change jobs and the networking was always useful but deep down I knew what the real reason was.
The presentation was on tax investigations; how to deal with them, and how to cooperate effectively with the authorities. The speaker was brilliant but I didn’t absorb a word. It was completely stupid, I knew it was, but I could not stop thinking about Oscar.
He’d showed up, looking just as attractive as I’d remembered. I tried not to over think things, tried to just see him as a casual acquaintance but I couldn’t. What didn’t help matters was the fact that he occupied the seat beside me, so close that our legs were touching. I could feel the heat from his body, could smell his citrusy aftershave… I could even hear him breathing.
We went out for a drink together after the presentation and somewhere between the light-hearted banter and easy conversation, we became friends. He called me with an invitation to a barbecue a couple of days later and I didn’t think before accepting. From there, we began to meet up every two weeks or so just to catch up, chatting at bars after work, or having lunch with other friends.
I wanted him. I wanted him so badly, I would lie awake at night, imagining the relationship between us being so much more passionate and intense. I wanted to feel his lips on mine, his hands on my body, the fantasies making me hotter and sweatier than I’d ever been with a real man.
And the next time we’d meet up, I’d have to talk to him as if everything were normal, as if he was just my friend, my platonic companion. Sometimes I could barely look him in the eye but he didn’t seem to notice. He always seemed effortlessly friendly. I became used to admiring him in private, taking out my frustrations alone in bed, or in the shower, my fingers feverishly slicking back and forth between my legs as I imagined it to be his
hand, the illicit thoughts triggering my climax.
I tried everything to seduce him. I wore short skirts, changed my hairstyle; tried every look ever invented. But not one of them registered even a passing compliment from him. He seemed unfazed by my constant change of styles, a raised eyebrow being the biggest reaction I ever got.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, he seemed to take an interest in every single other girl who crossed his path. One night I was out with a couple of work colleagues and we happened to bump into Oscar. Jess, a blonde girl from PR, hit it off with him straight away, the two of them chatting and flirting until it sounded like they were soul mates or something.
I tried to ignore how it made me feel as I struck up a conversation with Mick, my supervisor, but all I could pay attention to was Jess who was eating up every last word Oscar said. I caught his eye over her shoulder and rolled my eyes. He smirked back like a cat that’d got the cream. And not just any cream. Full-fat double cream with a side order of banoffee pie, type of cream. Averting my eyes, I took a sip of beer and tried to concentrate on what Mick was saying over the buzzing conversation but all I could hear was Jess giggling like a schoolgirl and Oscar’s illegally pathetic lines.
“Do you get that a lot?” I asked him afterwards when Jess had left.
He grinned at me. “Oh, all the time. I reckon all the girls just find me irresistible.” He winked. “Apart from you obviously.”
“Obviously,” I agreed, feeling my heart sink a little more as I realized just how blind he was to my feelings for him.
Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and inevitably things began to change. To my utmost delight however, they seemed to be going my way. One night Oscar and I met up at Little Buddha, a crowded pub with an energetic vibe. It was one of my favorite places to be. With generous happy hours, pool tables, and music on two floors, I loved the party crowd and sociable working-class atmosphere.
We went on a Saturday night and the place was sporting a Brazilian theme, or at least that was what the flags suggested. The barmaid, an old school friend of mine, was dressed up like a pink flamingo and the drinks were apparently what were drunk during Carnivale in Rio de Janeiro. We were given a mildly alcoholic smoothie of avocado, sweet white wine and lime which was surprisingly delicious.
Everyone seemed to be in good spirits on that hot summer night, dancing away to the loud music. As a general rule I didn’t dance but when Oscar suggested it, I was unable to decline. He moved so well, perfectly in time to the beat of the music, and I couldn’t help myself from soaking up the moment, basking in his physical proximity. It was fun and informal and I’d only just begun to relax and enjoy myself when I spied an all too familiar figure across the room. It was Ivan. I felt like a bucket of cold water had been emptied over my head. The all-too-familiar wave of awkward insecurity washed over me and I shook my head at Oscar, signaling that I was going to sit down at the bar.
He followed me. “What’s the matter? Did you want a drink?” He caught the bartender’s attention and held up two fingers, sitting down on the barstool beside me.
“I’m sorry.” I shook my head.
“Well what is it?” He frowned at me, concerned.
“That’s my ex,” I muttered, jerking my head in Ivan’s direction and praying that he wouldn’t come over. “We broke up a little while ago.”
I waited for Oscar to make some obtuse comment but he didn’t. He just looked at Ivan across the room and said, “You were with him
“Um… yeah. Why?”
“He’s fat!” Oscar turned to stare at me with wide eyes. “You could do so much better!”
“He is not fat!” I said without much conviction. “Besides, even if he was, what’s so bad about that?”
Oscar just stared at me. “It’s illegal to be fat in Japan y’know.”
I snorted. “That’s a lie. What about sumo wrestlers?”
He shrugged. “I guess they have a special exception for them.”
“Well this isn’t Japan. It’s England.”
We both turned to look at Ivan again. Come to think of it, he had
been a little overweight. Or maybe he’d put on a few pounds since I last saw him. I couldn’t even remember. Shaking my head, I sipped my avocado cream, sucking on the cold cube of ice as I tried to remember what I’d seen in him in the first place. He really didn’t seem all that attractive anymore.
Oscar interrupted my thoughts, elbowing me in the ribs. “Quick, kiss me.”
My heart skipped a beat and I swallowed the ice-cube whole. “What?”
“Your ex’s coming over here. Act like you’ve moved on; he clearly has.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw that Ivan was indeed coming towards us and on his arm was the most perfect blonde I’d ever seen. My eyes flicked to Oscar’s face and before I had time to think it through, I leaned forward and kissed him straight on the mouth.
“Is that it?” he murmured, his lips millimeters from mine.
I frowned. “What?”
His hand wrapped around the back of my neck. “Kiss me like you mean it. Not like I’m a frog-prince.”
I made to respond but before I could, his mouth moved forward, lips pulling gently, his tongue seeking an opening. I let him in and basked in the feel of his tongue stroking mine, enjoying the smell of his aftershave and the heady rush I got from his proximity. Once we’d started, I never wanted to stop. He was a brilliant kisser and the added fact that it was him
, Oscar hotter-than-the-Sahara-desert Bradley, made it all the more exhilarating. His fingers moved through my hair, pulling me closer until I could feel the heat radiating from his body. Tentatively, I slipped my arms around his neck, bringing him closer, my fingers brushing through his thick dark hair.
We broke apart as Ivan approached us. His eyes darted from me to Oscar and back again. He cleared his throat, loudly and unnecessarily. “Lily. Long time no see.”
“Hmm.” I swallowed hard, trying to quell the adrenalin surge from Oscar’s kiss. “It’s been a while. How are you?”
“Good, good.” Ivan gestured at the blonde. “This is Anna. Anna this is Lily.”
We exchanged awkward greetings. Anna looked like she should be presenting Saturday-night television while I felt like something small and inconspicuous stuck to the bottom of one of her designer high-heels. I could not for the life of me understand where Ivan had found her.
“Where’d you two meet?” The question was out of my mouth before I had a chance to divert it and Ivan launched into a long love-at-first-sight story about a club, a drink, and a whole load of other bullshit. I wished I hadn’t asked.
“So, aren’t you going to introduce us?” Ivan shifted from foot to foot as his story ended and the silence stretched between the four of us. He was clearly ill at ease.
“This is um…”
I took a sideways glance at Oscar whose arm was wrapped around my waist. He smiled his easygoing charismatic smile.
“Oscar. Lily’s boyfriend.” Oscar’s arm tightened around my waist as he smiled politely at the two of them. “Why don’t you guys join us?”
I smiled in agreement though I was internally appalled. I did not
want Ivan and Miss Universe putting a permanent damper on my night. To my relief though Ivan courteously declined, leaving me and Oscar alone together.
“Jeez!” I gulped at my drink. “I got scared he was going to stay and make small talk!”
Oscar laughed. “What are you so scared of? He’s only human.”
I sighed. “Yeah, but he just… I don’t know. Bad memories, I guess.” I drew a pattern in the condensation on my glass, trying not to think of how stupid I must have looked to Oscar, and to Ivan as well for that matter.
Oscar smiled at me. “That girl he was with…Anna?”
“You’re way hotter than her.”
I looked at him doubtfully. “Really?”
“Really. I’ll bet that bastard’s kicking himself for ever letting you go.”
”You think so?”
He winked at me. “I know so. That’s why he’s so fat. He’s obviously been trying to fill the hole you left in his soul.”
I laughed. “I can’t believe I kissed you.”
“Me neither.” Our eyes met and he smiled widely. “Though it was the other way round. I
“No way. I
made the first move.”
Oscar screwed up his face. “That was what you’d call a first move? It felt like you were kissing your granddad!”
“Ugh!” I slapped his arm. “You’re sick!”
And the awkwardness diffused as we laughed some more.
We drank more than usual that night, caught up in a bubble of good humor and conversation, laughing at everything and anything, my mood lifted no doubt by Oscar’s flirtatious attitude. Well, that and the sweet tequila shot he’d smooth-talked me into downing. By the time we left the bar, I wasn’t drunk though, just warm and content. Oscar invited me back to his place and I agreed, glad of the company.
We sat, him on the sofa and me in his battered old armchair, drinking cans of lemonade since we’d already had too much alcohol for one night. I flicked through the late-night TV shows, trying to find a half-decent movie to watch, ignoring Oscar’s attempts to coax me into joining him in a bottle of Bud.
A comfortable silence settled between us, punctuated by the noise of the TV. I watched Oscar out of the corner of my eye, admiring his relaxed masculine sensuality, my lips still tender from his kiss earlier. I wanted to kiss him again and again. And again. And maybe even again.
He turned to look at me. “What is it about your ex that scares you so much?”
Inwardly, I rolled my eyes. Here I was fantasizing about him
, and all he wanted to do was talk about Ivan. “He doesn’t scare me,” I said pulling a face. “It’s just that I don’t really like seeing him around.”
He sat up a little. “Yeah I get that, but why?”
“Cos he’s old news.” I yawned. “He’s moved on and so have I. I don’t like remembering the bad parts of the past.”
“Fair enough.” Oscar surveyed me from across the room. I could tell he wanted to press further but he kept quiet. And then, out of the blue he asked, “Did you fuck him?”
I laughed. “We were together four years. What do you
“I think… no.” Oscar leaned back on the sofa. “He looked like the kind of guy who’d take an hour to get a hard-on.”
I stared at him. “You have a really big mouth.”
“What, are you going to deny it?” Oscar chuckled. “Even if you did fuck, I bet he didn’t last long.”
“He didn’t.” The words dropped unfiltered, out of my mouth. I took a large mouthful of lemonade and marveled at how I’d managed to stop myself blushing after such a crass confession. “In fact,” My mouth kept moving, faster than my brain. “We once made a tape. It was so shit that it actually turned me off, rather than on.”
“You made a sex tape?” Oscar’s eyes lit up. “Can I see it?”
“No!” I laughed a little too loudly. “It was really bad. I think I threw it away.”
?” His penetrating look made me confess.
“Okay, so I didn’t, but you can’t see it anyway.”
“Because it’s private!” I blushed.
“Oh come on!” Oscar cajoled. “We can laugh at Ivan together and then, if you’re lucky, I’ll teach you how to make a proper sex tape.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. “What?”
He laughed, clearly buzzed from the alcohol. “Oh come on
Lily! I don’t know how we can live with this UST anymore.” He stood up and stretched, his shirt riding up to reveal his flat, toned stomach. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to make a move on me.”
My mouth dropped open. “You have?”
He grinned, liberated by his confession. “Yes. I have.”
“Are you serious?” Something inside me told me this was one big joke, that he was raising my hopes just to shoot them down again.
“I am one hundred percent serous,” he said and he crossed the room to squat before me and look me in the eye.
“I am not!” He grabbed my hands. “Why is it so hard for you to believe that I want you?”
I stared at his beautiful face. “Because you’re you… and I’m just... I’m just…”
“You’re just gonna stop right there,” Oscar said and he looked deep into my eyes, making my stomach squirm inside me. “I think you’re amazing Lily. I don’t want to screw up what we already have by jumping the gun on you but now… it’s been too long.” His tongue came out and wet his lips. “It’s taken you six months to give me one real kiss. And I had to initiate that too. How long can you expect a guy to wait?!”
I just stared at him, unable to believe that all my erotic dreams were about to materialize. “But that kiss… that wasn’t real. That was to show Ivan.”
Oscar tried to hide his smile. “Nah, to be honest, I kinda enjoyed that,” he said, pretending to be distracted by the traffic outside the window. “I… I really did.”
“Mm-hm.” His eyes met mine and his face broke into a huge grin. “No need to gloat about it!”
“I’m not gloating! I’m just… surprised that you weren’t totally repulsed by me.”
“Are you kidding?” He groaned, and on impulse he pulled my face to his and kissed me hard, his tongue exploring my mouth, the passionate intensity making my whole body shudder. “See?” He said, breathlessly. “Not repulsed. At all. In fact,” He grinned, “I’m even more turned on now.”
I stared at him, dazed and out of breath. “See, that is why you can’t see the tape,” I whispered. “It’d undo all that. And besides, it’s hidden at home at the back of my wardrobe.”
Oscar smirked. “You shouldn’t have told me that. Next time I come around…”
“No,” I said firmly. “I won’t let you.”
“We’ll see,” Oscar said, and he let go of my hands so he could pull his shirt off over his head. “Right now though, I can think of a better tape that needs making.” He slipped his hand into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, unlocking it before handing it to me. I pointed the camera at him so his face filled up the screen.
“I could look at you all day.”
“Oh, I could too.” Oscar grinned. “But I could look at you for longer.”
He hovered in front of the camera and I started recording. “How much longer?” I raised an expectant eyebrow.
“Two days maybe,” he said with a grin, and his hand came out to undo my blouse, fingers making light work of the buttons. “Even three if you’re lucky.”
“What if I’m not lucky?” I asked.
“Then I’ll just fuck you and that’ll be it.” Oscar spun the phone around so the camera faced me, focusing on my bare breasts. His hand came out and his fingers skimmed lightly over my soft skin.
“Your hands are cold!” I jerked away from him and he laughed.
“All the more reason for you to warm me up,” he whispered seductively and the way he said it made all my goose-bumps disappear. I leaned forward and kissed him hard on the mouth, letting his hand knead my breast, his fingertips teasing the nipple. “I’ve wanted to touch you for so long,” he whispered, and his hand dropped past the flat of my stomach to tug at the fastening on my jeans. “So, so long Lily.”
I pulled away from him, raising my ass up off the chair so he could pull the jeans down. I followed his movements with the camera.
He smiled at me as he tugged the denim off from around my ankles. “You have great legs.”
“Thanks,” I whispered and we grinned at each other almost conspiratorially.
“Let’s go to my room.” His fingers tangled with mine as he pulled me up off the armchair and led me to his bedroom.
It was very masculine, all white walls and grey wooden furniture. There were a couple of pictures on the wall, landscapes and cityscapes, but other than that it was tidy and bare. Fit for purpose I thought to myself as Oscar shut the door behind us. The curtains were open but he didn’t make to close them, just switched on the bedside lamp which cast a dim glow across the room. I followed his movements with the camera, admiring his broad shoulders and muscular torso. He caught me watching and grinned, an easy carefree grin that made all the muscles deep inside me clench, hard.
He stood next to the bed and began undoing his belt, slipping it off and dropping it on the floor. The camera followed as he pulled down his jeans, kicking them off before doing the same with his black boxers. My breath caught in my throat as he revealed himself, completely confident in his nakedness as he stood there, gauging my reaction.
I could only gaze at his cock. It was beautiful and erect and that meant he wanted me. The realization sent a rush of heat deep between my legs and I pressed my thighs together trying to relieve the ache.
Oscar came towards me. His eyes met mine, alight with longing but he didn’t touch me. Instead, he took the camera off me and moved back slightly to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Your turn,” he murmured and his tongue wet his lips as he sat back, facing the camera towards me.
I felt the blush creep across my cheeks but tried to act nonchalant as I slid my blouse off over my shoulders, letting it drop onto the hardwood floor. The room was warm but I couldn’t help shivering as Oscar’s dark blue eyes roamed over my body, drinking me in.
He cleared his throat and I dug my thumbs into the waistband of my panties, my mouth dry as I pushed the material down until it dropped freely to the ground and I could kick it aside.
Oscar smiled a slow, hungry smile which made my stomach squirm. He stood up, still aiming the camera at me, his free hand wrapped around his hard cock, moving slowly up and down the impressive length.
I walked towards him, free of clothes and inhibitions and replaced his hand with my own, admiring the feel of his silky skin. My fingertips ran along the length of his cock, before wrapping around it as I tightened my grip, pumping hard, loving the look of desire in his eyes. His hips flexed forward as he groaned hoarsely and I instinctively gripped him tighter, his eyes widening slightly as I moved my hand faster.
“Suck it,” he whispered and I dropped to my knees, closing my mouth over the head of his warm hardness. My eyes flicked up to his and he shifted the camera so it focused on my face, on my mouth and on his cock. His free hand came down to push the hair out of my eyes, his fingertips stroking my temple as I slid my mouth up his shaft, tightening my soft lips around him.
A groan emitted from the back of his throat and I moved one hand to cup his balls whilst savoring the salty pre-cum from his tip. His eyes were dark and needy and I loved how responsive he was to my touch, how he hardened further in the heat of my mouth. I slid my lips up and down his cock, pulling him in deeper so I could feel him at my throat, before retreating back to the head and flicking my tongue there rapidly. His eyes gazed into mine and I stared meekly back up at him, back at the camera which was recording my every move. It made me feel so exposed, so dirty but so turned on as I wondered how I might look.
Oscar’s hips thrust forward, sending his cock deeper into my mouth, his free hand gripping tightly to my hair as he held me in place. I breathed through my nose, preparing myself as he began thrusting back and forth, hard and fast. I let my hand reach around to knead his taut ass, keeping him close as his saliva-slickened cock moved past my lips over and over until I felt his fingers tighten in my hair.
My eyes flicked up to meet his as he stared wordlessly down at me, his face tense and expectant. Then his mouth dropped open and he thrust once more, his eyes squeezing shut as his spunk hit the back of my throat, hot, thick and copious.
I moaned as his hips jerked upwards and he came again, flooding my mouth, his grip on my hair slowly loosening. I swallowed hard, moving my mouth back off his cock, licking up the remainder of his come until he slid completely out of my mouth. After a moment or so, his eyes opened and he looked down at me.
“Hmm.” I gazed up, loving the content expression on his face. “You taste even better than I’d expected.”
He held his hand out to help me up, passing me the camera as he did so. Then he kissed me hard on the mouth, his tongue flickering about mine and I knew he could taste himself there. The thought both thrilled and appalled me. “Not bad,” he murmured against my lips. “But I’ll bet you taste even better.” And pushing me back to lean against the wall, he dropped to his knees in front of me.
I cried out in surprise as his tongue dove between my legs, his hands gripping my thighs to steady me as he sought out my clitoris. I felt a shudder of pleasure pass through me at the first touch and I moaned softly.
His tongue moved in expert circles, his eyes looking up at me, assessing my reaction. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” he confessed and I felt his warm breath against my pussy as he spoke. “Camera,” he instructed and I realized that I was holding the phone slack in my left hand. I brought it up to aim down at Oscar’s head, so I could see him on the screen, so I could capture his tongue darting back and forth.
My hand pulled at his thick hair and one of his fingers slid deep inside me, his mouth still sucking and licking alternately. I gasped, and he held me close to him, keeping me upright as his tongue swirled round and round, bringing me so, so close to that sweet release. His finger moved inside me, stimulating me gently and I let my eyes close as I pushed against him, feeling my body stiffen as the climax came close. His skillful tongue flicked one last time and I came hard, biting down on my lip to suppress the moans as I clenched around his torturous finger. He gazed at me, soaking up my reaction as I leaned against the wall, trying to slow my breathing.
“You are so sexy,” he whispered and he stood up to kiss me hot and searchingly so I could taste myself on his lips. I felt the unrelieved ache throb deep inside me and my pussy liquefied further as I felt his erection press hard against my stomach. “And now,” he murmured, “I’m gonna fuck you properly.”
He reached down to grab hold of my wrists so he could pull me over to the bed and push me face down onto the white sheets. I balanced myself unsteadily on my forearms as his hands smoothed over my naked ass before he smacked it hard, making me cry out in surprise. It stung a little but more than that, it intensified the neediness inside me, making me wetter and more ready.
“Open your legs,” Oscar breathed and I complied instantly, ready for anything and everything he wanted to do. His fingers dropped to the small of my back, tracing down the crack of my ass before slipping into my soaked pussy. I shivered, still sensitive from my orgasm and he withdrew, the flat of his hand slapping down hard on my buttock again. It felt so unexpectedly good. I pushed backwards and he chuckled softly, smacking me lower down against my throbbing pussy. Oh god
. I moaned loudly and in my line of vision I saw Oscar reaching down to take the forgotten camera that I’d dropped on the bed.
I felt his knee against my thigh as he widened the space between my legs until it was almost painful. “Very nice,” he breathed and his fingers pressed into my wet pussy, moving in a circular motion before he smacked me again, harder, the dull throb rising inside me. I could only imagine how I looked from the camera angle, with my most private parts on display, dripping with need. I groaned as Oscar’s palm slapped against my ass again and again, hitting me in exactly the same place, making the sweet pain intensify with each stinging blow.
I closed my eyes and absorbed the pleasurable agony, my breath coming in short pants as I tried not to flinch. Oscar paused, gently caressing my sore ass before he resumed the torturous process, hitting me lower down, until my pussy felt as red-hot as my ass. Eventually he stopped, his fingers running along my spread pussy lips, his breathing loud and harsh.
“You have no idea how hot you look right now,” he murmured, and his fingers slid inside me, moving in a slow torturous circle. “But you will soon.” And I knew he was filming it, filming his fingers as they fucked me, filming how vulnerably exposed I was with my legs spread wide on his bed. His fingers pulled out of my wet pussy and I felt him trail them up along my asshole, making my heart skip a beat, and my stomach clench in that deliciously anxious way.
Then they were gone and I felt him push down on the small of my back, making me raise my ass higher as I felt his cock brush enticingly against my entrance. His hand grasped hold of my hip and then I felt him sink slowly inside me, stretching me and filling me until he was fully buried.
“A nice, tight fit,” he whispered and from the way he said it, I could tell his teeth were clenched. He pulled on my arm. “Sit up,” he said and with minor difficulty I knelt up so I could feel his hard chest against my back. His hand moved to my front, cupping and kneading my breast, before wrapping around my throat, making me tip my head back against his shoulder. He kissed my neck hard and then I felt him ease out of me before he slammed back in again, making me cry out.
His hand pressed the phone into mine; guiding my arm to stretch out in front of us so the camera could capture the two of us moving together. His own hands moved to my hips clinging on tight as he moved faster, thrusting in and out of me. His fingers came up to caress my breasts, teasing my nipples into hard points before his hands skimmed down the flat of my stomach, one of them pausing there to press against my stomach, holding me against him. The other travelled further down, between my legs, his fingers closing around me, teasing my clitoris which was still sensitive from earlier. I gasped, my body shuddering as my stomach clenched and his palm pressed harder against it. Suddenly, I felt an incredible urge to pee. The hand holding the camera was trembling slightly and Oscar reached up to straighten my arm.
“Don’t wobble it,” he warned. “Or else it’ll be a crap movie.”
His arm wrapped around my waist, holding me still as he continued fucking me with a relentless rhythm. I felt so high that I didn’t want him to ever stop. Our bodies fit together perfectly; he made me feel so feminine against him, and his cock fit me just right, like it was tailor-made, just for me. I pushed back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust, my legs aching but my body hungry for more. I wanted him; all of him, every last drop. His free hand dropped back down to my clitoris and he began to rub it in circular motions, the intense sensitivity making me cry out loud.
I felt Oscar’s breath warm against my ear as he hissed, “I love that little sound you make.” And he pressed harder against my swollen clit, making me bite back my moans, all the while trying to absorb the punishing rhythm he was keeping up. He felt so big inside me, and he was going so deep each and every time, his hips smacking against mine every time he thrust in. My toes curled as I felt the familiar quickening deep inside me and my mouth dropped open, the camera falling from my sweaty fingers as I clenched around Oscar’s perfect cock, pleasure surging through my body. I moaned out loud, biting down hard on my lip as my body quaked with orgasm. My fingers twisted with his as I pushed them away from my over-sensitive clit, my heart beating at a crazy speed.
Oscar’s hand spread across my throat as he thrust inside me one final time before he came too, stilling deep inside me as he filled me with his release, one, two, three times. I could hear his hoarse gasps in my ear as we slumped down onto the soft sheets, sweaty and exhausted but thoroughly satiated.
The weight of his body pressed down into me and I lay there, savoring the feeling. I felt his stomach clench against my back as he breathed in deeply. His hand came up to push my hair to one side and he kissed me gently on the shoulder. “I enjoyed that,” he murmured, and I could hear the smile in his voice.
I smiled lazily. “Me too. You were… really good.”
“Hmm.” He chuckled as he rolled off me to lie on the bed. “So were you.” His blue eyes met mine. “Brilliant, in fact.”
I tried to hide my smile. “So what now?”
He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
I stretched my legs. “Well isn’t this gonna feel awkward?”
Oscar frowned. “It doesn’t to me.” He reached forward and traced his fingertip down my cheek. “How about you?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It hasn’t been long enough yet for anything to seem real. I still think I’m going to wake up one minute and be alone in my own bed.”
Oscar’s solemn expression stretched into a grin. “Seriously?” He reached forward and pulled me closer to him so I could feel his warm body against mine. His hand trailed down my back and then without warning, he pinched me, right on my ass. It hurt. “Still think it’s a dream?”
“No.” I smiled in spite of myself. “But I still think it might end up being awkward.”
Oscar shrugged. “Every time it feels awkward, we’ll just have to do it again. That way, I’ll fuck the awkwardness right out of you.”
I giggled. “In that case, I feel really awkward. And I don’t think the feeling’s going away.”
Oscar laughed as he sat up, feeling around on the bed for the camera. “I reckon we’ll be putting this video to good use then.”
I raised myself up on my elbows to watch as he started the playback. “I hope so.” The End *All feedback appreciated*
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