Wet

If she only knew how not dizzy I got. “My head was spi

“Oh God,” Elle says as she unbuttons the top button of her shirt.

“What are you doing?” I ask, trying not to get alarmed.

“Don’t worry. I’m just trying to get some air on the girls. I’m burning up.”

“Do you want some ice cubes to suck on? I’ve heard pregnant ladies like that.”

Gri

“Oh course not!” I respond, pretending to be offended. “I’m classier than that on a first date.”

“What about by the fourth or fifth date?”

“Anything’s possible by then.”

She chuckles. “Okay, but back to last night . . .”

“So we went to her place.” My mind scrambles to make up where she lives but Elle takes care of that reminding me that extraneous details are frowned upon.

“Did you go straight to the bedroom?”

I nod. “Most of her clothes were off by the time we got there, and damn she is fine. What a sexy body.”

Am I imagining things, or did Elle just snarl and bare her teeth?

“Of course, Ms. Perfect is fine. Don’t worry about the chubby pregnant hormonal girl over here. Let’s hear about her perfectly flat stomach and long, lean legs.”

“Geez, Elle, next time we do this can you give me the rulebook first? How am I supposed to know what you want to hear versus what will piss you off? Besides, what the hell do you mean chubby? You’re not chubby.”

She runs her hands over her hips and rolls her eyes. “Whatever. So did she worship the anaconda?”

“Are you asking if she dropped to her knees to blow me?”

She bites her knuckle and nods. I’m really wondering if this is a good idea.

She looks so excited but this could implode any second.

I let out a low whistle. “Yes, she did and she sucks cock even better than she kisses.”

“Did you run your fingers through her hair, and watch?”

“Naturally. What? You thought I’d close my eyes while that was going on?”

“My ex used to close his eyes.”

“And . . .” I prompt while waving my hand.

“He’s an idiot!” She grins.

“Believe me, Elle, if your mouth was on me I’d never take my eyes off you.”

I’m picturing it in my head and the heat moves down my chest straight to my groin.

She curls closer to me . . . too close. “Damn, you know how to make a girl feel great.”

“Well, I mean it.” And if she only knew how much I did mean it . . . how she was the only woman I fantasize about doing that with now. Elle’s pretty lips on me . . . oh man.

“Did she swallow?”

Geez.

Knowing I have to prolong my story, I shake my head. “No, I needed to fuck her, so I lifted her onto the bed.”

Elle is pressing her thighs together rhythmically. “Did you crawl over her like a wild beast?” She undoes another button on her shirt and pulls the collar further open.

“Is that what you would want me to do, Elle?” I ask, my gaze falling from her hooded eyes, to her flushed neck, to the sheen of perspiration at her cleavage now exposed.

She reaches over and digs her fingers into my forearms. “Oh, yes. That’s what I would want.”

“Well I did that. And she started to beg for it, so I pulled her legs apart and rubbed myself against her to make sure she was ready for all of me. Cause you know . . .”

“Oh God, she must have been so wet. I am,” she groans.

My eyes bug out. “You’re wet?”

“Hell yes. I’ve never been this turned on.”

Now that I think of it, neither have I. But I don’t want to tell her that. This is confusing enough as it is. I’m trying to find the brain in my foggy head—since all the blood is below my belt—when I suddenly feel her hand skim all the way up my fly. There’s no question anymore for her as to whether I’m aroused or not. I’ve never been this hard. As a matter of fact, I’m surprised my cock hasn’t done a Hulk move and busted out of my jeans.

“Wow, Paul,” she moans.

I’m barely holding on at this point.

She closes her eyes and takes several deep breaths like she’s trying to calm herself down. I’m not sure I’ll ever be calm again.

“Should I stop?” I ask in a ragged voice.

“Please don’t stop,” she gasps.

“Where was I?”

“So did you fuck her hard? How did she like it?” Her hand wraps around her flushed neck.

I imagine Elle spread out on the bed under me, and the look of want in her eyes. I know for a fact that I’ve never wanted anyone more. What if?

My impatient friend squeezes my arm. “Well?”

“Did I fuck her hard? No, not at first. Slow. I fucked her slow. I wanted to let it build so she’d feel everything. I wanted to watch her and see what she liked.”

“Of course you did,” she says with an envious sigh.

“And I kissed her, and gave her breasts the attention they deserved. She liked that a lot. It made her wild.”

She runs her hands up her torso and over her breasts, which only pulls her shirt open further. “Oh . . . I bet she did. Did she let you know how good it was?”

“She begged for more and thrashed and moaned a lot . . . so yeah.”

“Were her legs wrapped tightly around you?”

“Naturally. Her movements were in perfect rhythm with mine. It was unbelievable.”

“Please tell me you kissed her breasts, too?” She undoes another button.

We’re in the danger zone now. I’m already imagining I’m doing all of these things to Elle and not Melanie. I’m not sure how much restraint I have left in my reserve. I want her desperately.

I lean in closer to Elle’s face and look her in the eye. “I didn’t just kiss her breasts. I sucked them.”

As I look at her I find myself licking my lips, they’re so dry from my deep breathing.

The intensity must be too much because she shuts her eyes and turns away from me. I see a tear make its way down her flushed cheek. I slowly run my fingertip along its wet path to take it away as my mind tries to process where I screwed this up. Just because she said she wanted to hear about the sex, doesn’t mean it was the right thing for her.

“Elle?”

She’s taking short, choppy breaths and a sudden fury explodes in my chest. Why did I go along with this? Any man in his right mind would know this was the worst idea ever.

Rising up on my elbow, I gently take her chin in my hand and tilt her face back toward me. “Elle. Elle,” I say softly, “what’s wrong?”

She shuts her eyes and shakes her head, which sends new tears cascading down her face.

“Please tell me what’s wrong? I’m sorry. I thought you knew I was making up that stuff. I swear, Elle, it didn’t go like that at all.”

“Really?” she asks with wide eyes.

“Really. I promise.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t be sorry. I’m just sad because I want all that and who knows when I’ll ever have it again.”

The tears fall faster now.

“You mean sex?” I ask.

“Not just sex. It’s being intimate, and being touched. I’m just wired that way, Paul. I need to be touched. It grounds me. It’s only been a matter of weeks and I feel like part of me is dying inside.”

“I can touch you,” I say, in a lame attempt to soothe her. I run my hand up her arm and squeeze her shoulder.

She sighs and it’s the saddest sigh I’ve ever heard. “I adore you for that, but I want my body touched.”

“How about if you got massages. I know a place that’s supposed to be great.”

She looks at me like she can’t decide whether to laugh or cry. She runs her fingertips up and down my forearm. It sends an electrical charge right through me.

“Will they massage my boobs?”

“What?” I ask, trying to keep my eyebrows from darting into my hairline. The hormones have clearly rendered her with temporary insanity. What woman gets a boob massage?

“That’s what I want more than anything. I want my boobs touched.”

I clear my throat. “Um, I’m pretty sure this place doesn’t do that. And places I know that will I wouldn’t ever take you to.”