the rest for me. I shimmy out of it, discarding the pricey piece of fabric near the window, standing in front of Neal in nothing but my bra and panties.
“No,” he says, taking a step back, drinking in all of me. “You’re not that short at all.”
He steps closer and I undo his shirt, the buttons popping out of their holes, one by one by one, until I’m tugging his shirt out of his pants and he’s undoing his belt. The undressing is less frantic than the last six times I’ve had sex but there remains a sense of urgency in our fingers. Neal slips and kicks off his pants, I push his undershirt up to his armpits and up it goes, over his head, mussing up his hair, until it lands on the floor.
We kiss again, our lips sliding together in perfect rhythm.
We’ve known each other for less than a day and yet this is all native to us, the way my head tilts to the side and his tongue slowly snakes between my lips, gently lapping against my own. The air conditioning kicks on, a guttural noise disrupting the silence, kicking our feet in gear as I walk backwards towards the bed, Neal in front, our mouths connected, my hands in his hair.
Neal removes his lips before he shoves me on the bed. I land on my back, my body bouncing against the mattress, my breasts moving up and down. They catch Neal’s gaze and his tongue swipes against his bottom lip, eyes darkening as he says, “Sit up for me.”
I do as I’m told, back straight and eyes level with his torso. He runs a hand through my hair, the other toying with the strap on my shoulder. He slides his finger beneath it, his other hand dropping to the back of my head, then my neck, the pair of them meeting at the hook of my bra. He snaps it open with ease, the miniscule pop , almost loud enough to be heard over the groan of the air conditioning. He tugs off my bra and my breasts spill out, freely resting against my chest, pink nipples hard and erect.
“Open your legs,” Neal says and I part my knees.
He steps in-between them and I lean forward, pressing my mouth just below his belly button, my chin rubbing against his dark trail of hair. I can smell him from here, his musk thick between his legs, surrounding his hard cock that juts out of his briefs, hanging inches away from my breasts.
His hands are in my hair again, fingers running through the strands, before he pushes my head down. He leads me to his clothed cock, my mouth sliding against it through the fabric of his briefs. A low groan brews in his stomach, the vibrations soft against my head as I press kisses up and down his cock. He pushes his hips against me, needing more than the gentle touch of my lips. I release my tongue and lick a wet trail up from the tip of his cock to the base, feeling his balls beneath his briefs, desperate to taste him instead of cotton.
Neal grabs my hands and brings them to the waistband of his briefs, my fingers instantly curling around it, pushing them down until his cock is released. The smell of him grows in my nostrils and my eyes slip close, drowning in his musky scent. Thick, manly and solely Neal.
He doesn’t have to direct me to slide his cock in my mouth, the head passing my lips as I gently suck. Another moan builds in his chest as he watches me, licking the underside of his cock before I pull off. I wrap my hand around the base, generously licking every inch, his cock thick and circumcised, long and pink, glistening in the low light of the room as I take him back into my mouth. I suck in as much as I can, seventy-five percent of the way there, when my hands take over. Stroking up and down, I twist my head to the side, humming lowly as Neal throws his head back.
He pushes my hair out of my face. Our eyes meet and he grins, my hands cupping his balls.
“Oh, fuck, just like that,” he says.
My mouth pulls from his cock with a pop , diving in to lick his balls. He thrusts his hips into the touch, his cock against my cheek, pre-cum spreading across my skin. It makes me feel
“No,” he says, taking a step back, drinking in all of me. “You’re not that short at all.”
He steps closer and I undo his shirt, the buttons popping out of their holes, one by one by one, until I’m tugging his shirt out of his pants and he’s undoing his belt. The undressing is less frantic than the last six times I’ve had sex but there remains a sense of urgency in our fingers. Neal slips and kicks off his pants, I push his undershirt up to his armpits and up it goes, over his head, mussing up his hair, until it lands on the floor.
We kiss again, our lips sliding together in perfect rhythm.
We’ve known each other for less than a day and yet this is all native to us, the way my head tilts to the side and his tongue slowly snakes between my lips, gently lapping against my own. The air conditioning kicks on, a guttural noise disrupting the silence, kicking our feet in gear as I walk backwards towards the bed, Neal in front, our mouths connected, my hands in his hair.
Neal removes his lips before he shoves me on the bed. I land on my back, my body bouncing against the mattress, my breasts moving up and down. They catch Neal’s gaze and his tongue swipes against his bottom lip, eyes darkening as he says, “Sit up for me.”
I do as I’m told, back straight and eyes level with his torso. He runs a hand through my hair, the other toying with the strap on my shoulder. He slides his finger beneath it, his other hand dropping to the back of my head, then my neck, the pair of them meeting at the hook of my bra. He snaps it open with ease, the miniscule pop , almost loud enough to be heard over the groan of the air conditioning. He tugs off my bra and my breasts spill out, freely resting against my chest, pink nipples hard and erect.
“Open your legs,” Neal says and I part my knees.
He steps in-between them and I lean forward, pressing my mouth just below his belly button, my chin rubbing against his dark trail of hair. I can smell him from here, his musk thick between his legs, surrounding his hard cock that juts out of his briefs, hanging inches away from my breasts.
His hands are in my hair again, fingers running through the strands, before he pushes my head down. He leads me to his clothed cock, my mouth sliding against it through the fabric of his briefs. A low groan brews in his stomach, the vibrations soft against my head as I press kisses up and down his cock. He pushes his hips against me, needing more than the gentle touch of my lips. I release my tongue and lick a wet trail up from the tip of his cock to the base, feeling his balls beneath his briefs, desperate to taste him instead of cotton.
Neal grabs my hands and brings them to the waistband of his briefs, my fingers instantly curling around it, pushing them down until his cock is released. The smell of him grows in my nostrils and my eyes slip close, drowning in his musky scent. Thick, manly and solely Neal.
He doesn’t have to direct me to slide his cock in my mouth, the head passing my lips as I gently suck. Another moan builds in his chest as he watches me, licking the underside of his cock before I pull off. I wrap my hand around the base, generously licking every inch, his cock thick and circumcised, long and pink, glistening in the low light of the room as I take him back into my mouth. I suck in as much as I can, seventy-five percent of the way there, when my hands take over. Stroking up and down, I twist my head to the side, humming lowly as Neal throws his head back.
He pushes my hair out of my face. Our eyes meet and he grins, my hands cupping his balls.
“Oh, fuck, just like that,” he says.
My mouth pulls from his cock with a pop , diving in to lick his balls. He thrusts his hips into the touch, his cock against my cheek, pre-cum spreading across my skin. It makes me feel
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