After Party

I had stepped outside for a breath of air. It was all over. Everything I had been planning, obsessing over for months, had come to a close. I had left everyone else inside, sneaking out to be alone for a few minutes and breathe.

He had been fucking perfect. His voice, his body, the way he caressed his guitar… the way he had caressed me. That had all come to a head as well. Months, years of questioning his feelings for me, his attraction to me, had come together in one soft gesture, brushing my hair from my eyes. He had been that close to me before—closer, close enough to whisper in my ears—but there was something different this time. He was freer, more open, and more vulnerable. The tangible electricity that had always radiated off of him was still there, but the frequency had changed. He was comfortable in my presence and I could feel that on his skin.

Watching him finger his guitar had left me wet. If I thought for sure no one would come out the door and find me, I would have loved to take care of the heat between my legs. I shifted, trying to rub my clit against the seam of my jeans. It was almost working when the door opened. “There you are.” His voice was soft, gentle, soothing… safe. I turned my head, raising my eyes to meet his, glowing green even in the dark of the back yard.

“You were looking for me?”

“I was worried about you.” He moved closer, wrapping me tightly in his arms, pulling me into his chest. I breathed deeply, committing his scent to memory. Tomorrow he’d leave and I had no idea how long it would be before I saw him again. I held his waist and tried to absorb as much of his energy as I could, hitting off of it like heroine.

“Nothing to worry about. I’m fine. Just relieved.”

“Relieved?”

“It all worked out. Everything went well. You were amazing.”

“You ARE amazing.” He pushed me back away from his chest, while still keeping me close. “You’re really fucking amazing.” He leaned in, using my shoulders to keep me where he wanted me, and pressed a hot kiss against my mouth. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

“Honestly, no.”

“I think I’ve had a crush on you since the day we met.”

I took a leap. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next or where I was going to land, but I kissed him again, this time, pulling his hips into mine, rubbing my body against his. I maneuvered him back against the wall as he rubbed his hands up and down my back. I wanted to fuck, to suck the erection I could feel forming against my pelvis. But I kissed him, exploring his lips with my tongue, letting him hold me tightly. His electricity was enough to make me come, and I did—just kissing him in the backyard, pressed against the wall.

He felt me shake, pushing me back far enough so he could look into my eyes. “Your eyes are beautiful. They’re so green.”

“They’re the same color as yours.”

He smiled. “I noticed.” He let his hands slide from my back around to cup my breasts, using them to guide me back into him, to kiss me again. “You taste like wine and cigarettes.”

I hesitated for a moment. But only a moment. “Would you like to taste anything else?” His green eyes flashed, his mind working fast to find a solution to the problem.

“I’d love to. Someone might catch us.”

“I’m not worried if you’re not.”

He pulled me around to the side of the house, away from the door, in a corner by the fence separating the backyard from the front. He lowered himself to his knees, unfastening my jeans and sliding them off my hips as he went. It was all one fluid, skilled movement, and with my jeans around my ankles, he spread my legs as far as he could. He caressed my clit with his tongue, massaging and flicking it, pulling my hips forward into his face. He licked my labia, the edges of my pussy, and back to my clit, pulling it between his soft lips and sucking it, flicking his tongue over the engorged tip of it. “You are delicious,” he moaned into my body.

I pushed one hand off of my hips and toward the center. He followed my lead and pressed two fingers deep inside me, fingering my pussy, massaging my front wall, and letting my juices flow out over his fingers. I pulled them out of me and brought them up to my lips, kissing them first, then sucking myself from them.

“Let me lick myself from your cock,” I urged, pushing this even farther.

He rose to his feet, removing his own jeans in the ascent, and pressed his erection inside me, deep enough to cover it in cum. He thrust deeply, once, twice, three times, before I pushed him away—I wanted to fuck him so badly, but I wanted to drink his cum more—pushing him back against the wall, lowering myself to my own bare knees. I licked the cum from his cock, cleaning every inch before taking him deep into my throat.

I pressed my fingers into the soft flesh behind his balls, into the back of his balls, and squeezed them, firmly, in my hand, pulling them down and toward me. He jerked at that, forcing his long cock even deeper into my throat. I did it again and he responded the same way, thrusting himself into my mouth. He tangled the fingers of both hands into my hair and I let him, letting him push and pull my mouth over his penis, sucking as he moved me.

I pulled him from my mouth and said, firmly, “Come in my mouth. I want to drink you.”

I reached up and cupped my hand over his throat, and he put his own over mine, squeezing gently. I reached my other hand between my legs and dipped my fingers into my pussy, wetting them in my own sticky cum. Hot and wet, I brought them back to his taint, massaging the delicate flesh and the flesh of his scrotum with my cum. He moaned, squeezing my hand tighter over his throat. His breaths came fast and shallow. I pressed tighter. “Hold your breath,” I whispered over his cock in my mouth.

I felt his body heave as he heeded my instructions, filling his lungs with air and refusing to release it. I pulled back until half of his cock was in my mouth and I sucked at him, firmly, licking his shaft, rubbing his balls, his taint, his groin. He thrust his hips forward, urging me to take him deeper but I pulled away, not ready to fill my mouth with him, just yet. I wanted to fuck him, to feel his heat, his weight, on my chest, to feel him driving his long, hard member deep into my pussy. Deeper and deeper, harder, faster, more forceful with each thrust. But I kept his penis half out of my mouth, massaging it, urging him to come but not letting him, not yet. I wanted to lie back in the grass and pull him inside me.

I wanted to blow him. I had wanted to blow him for months leading up to this night. I wanted little more in the world than to taste his penis and to swallow his fluids. Now, I was so close and I felt greed set in. But I felt his body jerk and writhe against me and I knew he no longer had it in him to fuck.

Maybe later.

I pushed his dick into the back of my throat, letting go of his, and squeezed both thighs, pulling him deeper into my mouth. As soon as the head of his throbbing cock touched the back of my throat, he jerked again, his penis jerking against my mouth, and it was half a second before I tasted his salt. He filled my throat, coming hard and fast. I still hadn’t heard him release the air trapped in his lungs and I sucked his cock until I couldn’t feel him come anymore. I felt the muscle relax onto my tongue and finally he exhaled.

I kept swallowing, cleaning his cock free of cum before lifting myself to my feet. He pulled me close, pressing his waning erection against the smoothly shaved front of my naked body and rubbed it against my still-exposed clit.

“I want to fuck you so hard,” he whispered into my mouth. “I want to hear you scream.”