Dirty Scoundrel(21)

"Doesn't feel good?" I ask. When she hesitates, I chuckle. "You gotta  tell me yes or no, baby. I ain't never touched another girl before, and I  wanna do it right."

"Never?" Nat whispers, surprise on her face. "Not even this?"

I shake my head. "Not even this." In some ways, I'm just as innocent as  she is, though my palm could probably attest to otherwise. Truth is, sex  sounds good, but without Natalie, it loses its appeal. Sex with  Natalie? Now, that thought makes me crazy with need.

She licks her lips, and the sight of that little pink tongue darting out  makes me want to kiss her all over again. But she's takin' my hand in  hers, and guiding me between her thighs. Fuck, that's hot. She's gonna  show me exactly what she needs to get off, and I nearly bust in my pants  at the realization.

"Soft," Nat tells me, and takes my finger and guides it in a little  circle around that spot. "Not directly against it. That's too much." She  rubs her nose against mine and her mouth comes closer, as if she's  beggin' for a kiss. "And then you can add fingers if you want to."

Add fingers? I'm so dazed by the hungry, sexy look on her face it takes  me a moment to realize she means that I should fuck her with my fingers.  Of course. My brain's just scrambled at how gorgeous she is and I'm not  thinkin' straight. I love that she's being so honest, though, and I'm  gonna do my best to give her exactly what she needs.

So I begin to touch her, just as she showed me. Tiny, soft circles  around her clit, grazing and teasing the skin around it but never quite  the nub itself. I kiss her again, my mouth light against hers.

This time, she doesn't moan. Natalie sucks in a breath, and then  another. Her eyes close and she whimpers again. Her hands go to my  shoulders, then drag down my sides and her nails dig in, as if she's  desperately trying to find purchase. Her hips raise and she starts to  meet the movements of my hand with her body.

Fuck, that is the sexiest goddamn thing I have ever seen.         

     



 

Her eyes are closed and she buries her face against my neck, as if it's  too much. Ain't too much for me. I wanna watch. I stare, fascinated as  she raises her hips, and my fingers-slick and gleaming with her  juices-work against her pink folds. I want to taste them so badly, but I  don't want to change the rhythm I've got going, because Natalie's  making soft little cries against my neck that are making my sac tighten  in dangerous, pleasurable kinds of ways.

Her nails dig in to my skin painfully. "Clay. Don't stop."

"I ain't never gonna stop, baby," I tell her, panting. It takes  everything I have not to change the rhythm I've got going with my hand.  Part of me wants to add the fingers she mentioned, and part of me wants  to just finger her as frantically as I feel my heart racing at the  moment, but I need to give her what she wants. Need to-

She rubs her face against my neck, moaning, and then bites down on my skin and licks it hard. "Oh, Clay."

Ah fuck.

My body shudders and I explode with release, groaning deep. My entire  body seizes up with the force of it and I clutch her against me. There's  no air left in the room, no cum left in my body. I just empty and empty  into my fucking pants and hold her tight as if the world's ending.

Maybe it is. I just prematurely ejaculated with my dream girl in my arms.

Fuuuuuck.



Natalie

"Goddamn it," Clay mutters against my shoulder.

I just stroke his hair and press soft kisses to his wonderful-smelling  skin. I don't know what he uses, but it's either the most incredible  smelling bar of soap or he just naturally smells like heaven. Either  way, I love having my face buried against him. I don't even care that he  stopped petting me or that he jerked hard against my side, and now the  fabric of his pants is all wet against my side.

I'm just really enjoying myself.

Well, okay, I'm a little disappointed I didn't get to come. But god,  it's lovely to just be touched by another person. To be caressed and  stroked and petted. I didn't realize how hungry and starved for  attention I was until Clay stormed back into my world.

Even though I tell myself this isn't any of my choice, I'm craving the touches, the kisses, the attention.

"Fucking came in my pants like a kid," Clay mutters, pulling his big  body off of me. His hand leaves my panties and then I'm left on the bed  all alone, sprawled and naked and still so needy. He gets off the bed  and wanders away into the bathroom, stripping off clothes as he does. I  catch a glimpse of buns-shockingly white buns compared to the deep brown  of his back-and then he disappears behind a door, presumably to clean  up.

And I guess . . . I guess we're done. I think. I remind myself that this  is all at his discretion, and it doesn't matter if I come or not. I  can't help but feel a little disappointed, of course. I grab one corner  of the blankets and delicately tuck it around my body while I wait for  him to return. I wonder if I should get up and leave. Does he want me to  stay? Or is he going to be angry that it happened and lash out at me?  It doesn't sound like the Clay I knew, but a lot of his demeanor doesn't  remind me of the Clay I knew. Sometimes it's like he's trying to be a  completely different person.

"Well," Clay drawls from the bathroom, catching my wandering thoughts  once more. "That wasn't exactly how I planned for shit to go down. But  we can look at this as a blessin', I suppose, because-" He stops as he  leaves the bathroom, bare-assed, and frowns at me. "What're you coverin'  up for?"

"I, uh, I don't know," I admit, distracted. I can't stop staring.

Clay's completely and utterly naked.

This is the first time I've ever seen his cock after years of wondering  what kind of equipment he'd have. The severity of his tan lines are  jarring, his skin above his waist a glorious warm brown, and the skin  below his waist is what you would call . . . well, lily-white. He's  still incredibly muscular, though, and the tan line seems to cut right  across his obliques, and from there, I can see everything. The line of  hair that's no more than a happy trail down his belly leads to the dark  curls at his groin, and his cock juts out from there. Didn't he just  come? I didn't expect it to look so . . . big. So deeply pink.

I . . . should have watched more porn us so I'd have more knowledge.  Damn it. Books and movies don't prepare you for your first time with a  guy, not the way they should.

Because what he has is pretty impressive and I wonder if he's average or  well endowed or if I have no clue, because he looks enormous to me. And  it makes my thighs tighten together, just a bit.         

     



 

He moves to the side of the bed and then crawls back over to where I'm  lying, throwing the blankets aside and revealing my body again. "Don't  you cover up from me. I like lookin' at you." He grins at me, teeth  stark against his heavy beard. "It's clear you like lookin' at me, too."

"Hush," I say, embarrassed. "I was just . . . looking," I manage with a strangled admission.

"You can look all you want." At my silent nod, his amusement seems to  increase. "You can ask questions, too, you know. I don't bite."

"Are you a shower or a grower?" I blurt out. I figure I'll never know  unless I ask. Or, well, that's not true. I can just wait until we have  sex and see for myself. I feel stupid.

Clay laughs. "Right now it's a little of both. Dick's still hard, but  it's not at full potential at the moment, because I busted a nut before I  should have." His eyes gleam. "It meet with your approval?"

"It's fine," I say primly. I do wish I hadn't taken Lexi's weird advice  and "gone all Sasquatch." I half want to ask him what he thinks of my  pussy, but those words will never come out of my mouth. I'm too much  Southerner, too much of a reserved Weston to ever say such things.

"Like I said, though, I'm gonna look at this as a good thing." He leans  in and presses a light, flirty kiss to my mouth before giving me another  devilish grin.

"Why's that?"

"Because that means I'm gonna be able to go down on you until you come  without worrying about if I'm gonna lose control. Already lost it, so  the edge is gone." He presses another kiss to my lips, then begins to  slide lower on the bed.

A worried squeak escapes my throat, the sound almost as embarrassing as what comes out of my mouth next. "You're going to what?"

"Go down on you, baby." He's already moving to the edge of the bed, and  grabs me by the ankles, hauling me forward a good foot or so. "Been  dreamin' about getting my mouth on this pussy for ages. Now that I've  seen how sweet it is, you think I'm gonna lose this opportunity?"

I'm beyond flustered. Of course I want him to go down on me. At the same  time, I'm utterly terrified. What if he doesn't like my taste? What if  he thinks I . . . look strange? Oh god, why didn't I freaking shave?