Page 32 of To Love the Stars too Fondly

“It’s really just a mutant goat.”

I made a show of glowering. “Take it back.”

Alex shook her head. I laughed, and all remained light.

We stayed for about an hour, laughing about nothing.

It was so easy with her. Perhaps as easy as it had been with El.

When I started getting antsy, she escorted me back to the car, nearly possessive with how she kept a hand on my back. I could nearly admit that I liked it—that, and the dark glint in her eye. She opened my door, even helped me settle in my seat. Yet she hesitated by my side. “Earlier, you said ‘dirty and degrading’. Is that what you want, or is that just what you’re used to?”

Read me to filth, why doesn’t she? My glare wasn’t entirely facetious. “You’re very sweet, Alexandria Winthrop. Maybe it’s just both. I dare you to shock me.”

Alex leaned in closer. “Look, I’m not trying to kill the mood. I just don’t want to offend you or make you feel like a whore or something. I like you. I don’t want to shock you, but I’ve paid hookers to piss on me, so—”

My burst of laughter paused her words. Dammit, of course I thought of that awful snuff image, but she was so serious and so damn sweet.

I didn’t stop until she joined me. “I’m sorry,” I said, warding away the threat of tears amid my fit. “I just didn’t expect that.”

“But you see why I want to make sure we have the same definition of what’s actually degrading but still hot.”

I couldn’t quite quell my laughter. “Do you want me to piss on you?”

A teasing lilt filled her words. “That feels like a third date question.”

“Okay, don’t try to shock me, but you can rough me up a little. If you’re a dick, I’ll be a dick back.” I beckoned her near, an odd, empowering realization filling me. “I think I’d even like it from you.”

“Cool, but tell me if I go too far.”

“I will.”

“Will you?”

Again, she was on to me. The internet had called it ‘fawning’, but I called it ‘survival.’ Not with Alex, though; not what that sincerity in her gaze. “I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it, Princess,” she said with a wink, then finally she shut the door.

When she came around to sit in her seat, she turned on the engine, then paused. “So—”

“So,” I interrupted, “is ‘sucking your dick’ the correct terminology when we’re talking about a butch packing a strap-on, or am I being insensitive? Is that even something people do?”

It was both a come-on and a way to tiptoe past any faux pas. Win, win. Alex, for her part, looked quite pleased. “You can call it whatever the hell you want, and yes.”

Curiosity drove me nearly as much as lust as I reached over to caress the bump in her trousers once more. Naturally, this brought me nearer to her face, yet I gasped when her lips suddenly stole mine.

Oh, I could have kissed her for hours and never gotten bored, her gentle motions luring me like a child to a firefly. But then I heard the zip of her pants, and the innocence abruptly ended when she led my hand to the phallic shape now protruding from her crotch. It was that velvety sort of silicone, clearly high quality and malleable in my grasp, a nice change from the cheap rubber I’d been fucked with in the past—and at least once had done the fucking, but I knew what I preferred.

Credit where it was due—it was also impressively large. I grinned against her lips. “So, you’re a show-er, not a grow-er.”

Her laughter invigorated me, and when I began pumping it in my hand, her slight hum stirred fresh heat inside my core. I left her lips, eyelashes batting. “So does this actually feel good or…?”

“I mean, I can’t feel it the same way, but when you do shit like that, it does rub against me.” Mischief raised her eyebrow as her hand tenderly stroked through my hair, then directed my head into her lap. “Also, it’s hot as hell.”

Despite her arousal, my analytical brain was hard at work. The key difference here was that the motions were more important than whatever I did with my lips or tongue, unless it was for show, but while this would certainly already fall under the legal definition of distracted driving, encouraging Alex to watch was, unfortunately, certainly a safety hazard.

And so, when I went down, I kept my hand around the silicone shaft, gently motioning even as my lips parted around the head. The car jostled slightly—only then did I realize we were moving—as she drove onto the main road, but my place was here, mouth stuffed full of soft silicone.

The threat of being spotted invigorated me. Alex too, if her contented moaning was any sign. Her grip returned to my hair, just tight enough to keep me enthralled.