Page 49 of Hey Girl
Chris’s arms go around me, a stick in each hand as the song starts. His hands and forearms start rapidly tapping out the intro on the tom-tom followed by a flick of the cymbal, before repeating it again. But his eyes are locked on mine, our faces not even inches apart. I’m the last person on earth that should be considered an expert on foreplay, but I know without a doubt, this is it. I also know there’s no one else that does it like this.
He falls into a steady groove, getting me more worked up by the second, and as he approaches the bridge and the rhythm gets more intense, his whole body gets into it, and I find myself bouncing in his lap. God, if I have another dry orgasm without even getting my panties off I’m going to die.
I’ll die happy, but I’ll still die.
If Chris has done anything for me, it’s forced me out of my comfort zone, out of passivity, and into action. Into actively reaching out and grabbing life by the balls. So I shift my hips a little, lining his rock hard cock up with my lady business just right, and watch his eyes burn with enjoyment of my slightly awkward, unpracticed, but no less enthusiastic actions.
Emboldened, I lean forward and take his lips with my own, trying to imbue the kiss with every ounce of lust I feel. I pull back, and…
Oh, wow.
We’re beyond words now.
This is it.
His eyes remain locked with mine as he carelessly throws his drumsticks over his shoulders. While they clatter somewhere behind him, he lifts me until I’m sitting on one of the larger drums, on the curved side of it, and kisses me like he’s trying to devour me. His tongue strokes mine, and he tastes so good that a little moan slips out of me, vibrating in my throat.
The sound seems to light a fire under him, because he yanks my t-shirt up and over my head, throwing it to one side. I gasp when his fingers hook around the gusset of my panties, and…holy shit…he rips them clean off.
I’m naked.
And I’m not afraid.
I feel vulnerable just leaving the house. Talking to people I know. Being introduced to strangers.
But right now, bare ass nude on a drum kit in front of my rockstar, I don’t feel like Rebecca the mouse. I feel powerful. Confident.
Free.
It’s hard not to feel intensely smug when he spends a few moments staring at my body with open enjoyment. I feel the path his eyes take like a warm flame over my skin, and it turns my nipples hard as diamonds. Then, as though making up for the time that lapsed while he gazed at me, he pulls a foil packet out of his jeans pocket before yanking them down, his boxers with them, and kicking them off.
This is really happening.
His dick is pulsing as he fiddles with the condom wrapper, and I don’t think I’m imagining the way his hands are shaking. It goes a long way to making me feel better about my own nervousness, to know I’m not alone in it. And the urgency of our need for each other, to have this moment together, is so all-encompassing that it drowns out any traces of doubt in myself, and chases away any lingering jitters about…
Fucking.
Right here on the drums he was pounding just moments ago. Well. My turn for a pounding now, I think, and I giggle.
He pauses putting the condom on his rod, and we have a wordless conversation as his eyebrow lifts. You good?
I nod.
He looks down at his erection self-deprecatingly. Laughing at my wang?
I shake my head and pull him closer to me with my legs, wrapping my arms around his neck and trying to get him to do it, to make me his, but he resists. His eyes twinkle as he drops to his knees, his eyes level with my…
Oh.
His tongue drags up my seam, and my eyes damn near roll back in my head. Who knew this could feel so good? I’ve read it described in romance novels, and it always sounded like it would be awesome, but this is something else. Especially when his tongue tickles my clit, over and over, until I’m writhing and my nerve endings feel like they’re on fire. I can’t control the way my mouth opens in a silent scream, my eyes screwed up so tight I’m seeing colors. I can’t possibly look pretty right now, but I don’t care. This feels too amazing for me to give a shit.
His tongue shoves straight into me, like he’s fucking me with it, and it’s ridiculously wonderful, but not quite as ridiculously wonderful as what he was doing before, so I squirm. “No - do the - what you were doing bef - YES!” That’s exactly what it takes for me to topple off a cliff into a sea of wet, fiery ecstasy.
“Man ALIVE, that was fun!” The way he shouts makes me jump slightly, but I’m too gorgeously strung out to mind. And when he high fives me, all I can do is giggle. “I’m gonna do that again in a bit, but first…” He slithers up my body, serpentineand so sexy I can hardly stand it, and lays me down on the cool floor. “You ready?”
I nod, not even trying to talk right now. I don’t think I could if I wanted to.
“I haven’t done this before…” He laughs, no longer tense, as I lift my eyebrow in disbelief. “I mean, I haven’t taken anyone’s…I mean, popped their…I mean…”