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That control I’m so good at? Yeah, it’s about to fly out of the fucking window. I’m two seconds away from ripping that thong off, needing to see all of her.
“Show me,” I beg once again, fisting my hands on the couch. “Please show me.”
She toys with the string on her hips, her fire-engine red fingernails running the length of the fabric covering her center.
“Don’t tease me, Blue.” It’s a warning. “Fucking show me.”
My hips are rocking into the air, waiting impatiently. Ever so slightly and ever so tediously slowly, she pulls the black fabric to the side, showing me the glistening folds of the most beautiful cunt I’ve ever seen.
“Jesus, Ind,” I choke out in admiration. “How are you real? You’re fucking stunning.”
“Thank you,” she says softly.
There’s a small patch of trimmed hair just above the cleft. Dark pinkish-purple folds gleam with her arousal. Her slit is tempting and teetering me on the edge of flat-out giving up years of practiced celibacy, solely to find out what it would feel like to have those lips slide over my cock.
I want to touch her, spread her, see every part of her, but she’s supposed to be touching herself. She’s supposed to be learning, my little Ivy-League student.
Taking her hand, I guide it south, covering her fingers with my own. I use our index and middle fingers to rub the length of her core before opening her and letting me see that perfect pink bud, tight and wet.
She’s soaked, her arousal not only coats her fingers, but mine too. I want to put it in my mouth, lick every inch of her off me.
Her body stiffens, interrupting my carnal thoughts. Peering up, those soft brown eyes latch on to mine, giving me all the trust in the world and fuck if I don’t melt on the spot.
“You okay?” I ask.
She nods, her throat moving in the prettiest swallow, my mind racing with dirty ways I’d love to see her swallow again.
“I’m nervous.”
Brows pinched, I ask, “Why?”
My confident roommate, nervous?
She laughs uncomfortably. “I feel like a virgin. It’s just been a long time.”
“Tell me about it.”
She smiles at that, that kissable bottom lip sliding between her teeth.
“If you want to stop, tell me. But you don’t have to be nervous with me. God, you’re fucking perfect, Blue. Pretend you’re alone, in your room, touching yourself.”
“I don’t want to pretend I’m alone.”
Of course, she doesn’t. She never does.
“I like knowing you’re here. That you’re watching me.”
“Then I’ll just be here, eternally grateful that I get to watch you make yourself come.” I move her hand once again, forcing a bit more pressure and together, we find her clit.
I show her how to rub a circle around the bud, how to flick, how to squeeze it just the way I would if her hand wasn’t between me and her body.
“Oh God, that feels good.” Her head falls back into the couch below her and I continue to help her work herself up.
Her chest is moving rapidly, her tits begging for attention. I take one in my mouth, continuing to move her hand.
“What’s your thing, Ind, huh? Do you like to be called names in bed? Do you like to be talked down to?”
She lets out a tiny moan, but I think it has more to do with the pull of her nipple between my teeth and the flick of our fingers coasting over her clit, and less to do with what I said. Because I know this girl and there’s not a world in which she wants to be called a degrading name. She likes to be told she’s lovely and smart.
