Finally

I sit here on the bench and lean into him.  I let him kiss me and I try to keep up.  It’s slow, but teasing, and we’re both smiling, both using our mouths and nothing else, both unable to do anything more with each other yet, but just smile and kiss. His hand is on my thigh and I want to grab it and put it in between my legs, but I’m letting him pace this, I’m letting him guide me this time.  Last time I was the one grabbing at him, lying on top of him, kissing him.  And things messed up.  This time it's his show and I fucking love it.

He tastes so god damn good and his lips are full and swollen now, reddened a little, and his eyes are deep, dark, and lazy, only staring at me.  I could die right now and be happy.

And we’re in a fucking Foot Locker and I’m seriously kind of terrified the ceiling might fall in.  We can’t be interrupted.  We just can’t.  I take it back, I can’t die right now.  I can after we have sex.  It's got to happen.  It just has to.

This…this fucking has to happen or I might seriously just go insane.  My body and my mind and my heart have all been through too much of a roller coaster ride the past two weeks with this man.  I can’t DO this again.  I can’t.  This has to happen tonight.  Something GOOD has to happen tonight for us.  There's been too much ridiculous drama between us, too much insecurity and waiting around.  God if only I had known he wanted me, too.  Maybe I wouldn't have waited so long.

I guess I have to say everything happens for a reason. Maybe there's a reason I tortured myself for months without him.  I guess it's all worth it if I get to have him now.

Shit I fucking want him, now.  God I’ve never had anyone kiss me like this, not even him.  It’s perfect. He doesn’t say a word and he doesn’t have to.  He just uses his mouth to tell me and show me with swipes of his tongue and tugs of his teeth, presses of his lips against mine, in between mine….he shows me that he wants me, too.

He wants me, too! 

I try not to giggle and look like a moron.  But it's hard, especially when he's looking as gorgeous as he is.  I never thought a guy this good looking would like me. 

It’s like, it’s past the point of 'oh my god, you’re so hot I wanna fuck you'.  It’s now, shit, when I see him it’s like I need him.  I need to be beside him, around him.   I need him to be mine. I need to kiss him and touch him, not because he’s hot, but because he’s perfect.  Perfect for me.  He’s a dream.

Flawed and maybe a little dense sometimes, like I really don’t know why he had me come here tonight, but I love it all the same.  And if this is where it has to be, on a dirty, polished wooden bench, with the smell of new sneakers and a poster of Lebron James staring at me, then I don’t care.

I don’t care where it is, as long as he’s here with me.  It's been so long, not just for me sexually, but I feel like it's been so long since I've been with him.  It's only been a few days, right?  Actually a few hours.  But God do I need him, and I need him fully, not just a heavy make out session on a lumpy guest bed.  I need him inside me.

Shit, his thumb moves.  His fingers grip my jeans a little more and his thumb is moving back and forth slightly on the inside of my thigh.  Higher, Justin…fucking, go higher….

I’d tell him, but he’s so quiet, just the soft sounds of our breaths and our mouths moving, that’s all.

He slightly goes higher.  I guess I don’t even have to ask. 

“Fuck Jess…” He sighs and he moves his hand deep in between.  What is he doing?  His hand goes under my thigh, against the denim and pulls up, pulling my leg over the bench so that I’m facing him now, straddling the bench and mirroring his position.  Both his hands are on my thighs, rubbing up and down now and moving to my waist, holding me there and pulling himself closer.  His lips keep kissing mine over and over and I hold onto his tank top and run my fingers up against his strong neck.  My purse falls to the floor, off of my lap.   Shit, his body feels good, so solid and warm.

And we haven’t even done anything.  We’re just sitting here…kissing.

I bet he's solid and warm in his pants.  I contain the urge to smile.  I need to touch him.
 
Suddenly I have the need to ask, to make sure that this is going where I think, that this isn’t going to just stop after a few minutes of heavy kissing.  I rip away from his lips and hold his face and sigh his name, “Justin…”

His eyes open, he grins slightly, and I rush out, “Please tell me we’re goin-”

He cuts me off and says firmly, “Yes…” and kisses me hard, fucking my mouth with his tongue, gripping my upper thigh, his thumb so….so close.  He pulls back softly, a contrast from the harshness he started with. He closes his eyes for a moment and smiles, breathing out deeply against my face. 

“Yes we’re going to.  Right here.”  He dips in again and this time moves to my neck, kissing me there lightly, rubbing his lips against my skin.  His hand still grips my thigh, but his other moves up under my shirt a little, touching the skin of my waist.

His fingers on my skin make me moan, “Fuck…”

“You like that?” He whispers against my neck and moves down, nuzzling against the fabric on my shoulder.  His hand surges behind me, running up the skin of my back, then up over the back of my bra, leaning me over a little so he can lean into me.  “You want me right here on a god damn bench, Jessica?”

He's a second from my lips and he’s smirking.  Here’s the cocky Justin that comes and flirts with me.  Here’s the man that makes me pant and sweat and fucking want to get off every night.  And every time I get myself off it's not good enough.

But this, this is good enough and I just want more and more and more until I’m stuffed and senseless. “I want you everywhere,” I whisper.

His hand is still on my thigh, but his other one moves around from my upper back and runs over the front of my chest, fingertips brushing against my bra and over my breasts, under my shirt. “Here?”

“Yes….”  I pant.

“Here?” In a second his hand drops from my shirt and his fingers….oh god, his fingers are there, against the denim, rubbing slightly in between against the zipper and down at the seam.  I wanna close my legs and trap his hand there, but my legs are forced apart by the bench.  His hand on my thigh grips me and I moan out.

“Please…”  I look at his face.  I feel like I’m on fire and my body aches, it fucking hurts how much I want him.  I lean forward and hold his face and kiss him.  I pull back and whisper, “Now. Please. I don’t wanna wait.”

“Shhh…”  He pulls his hands away and I find myself whining, clutching him, moving my hips against the bench needing something….anything.  He kisses me lightly, his hands framing my face.  He pulls back and smiles, rubbing his nose against mine for a moment before running his hand against my head and saying right at me, “I’ve wanted you for a fucking half of a year, Jess.  I’m not just gonna fuck you on the bench and be done with it in a few minutes.  I’m taking my time, girl.  I’m making this shit last.  I want to make you feel so, so good…”

I feel myself flood against my panties. I can feel it cool and slick. His hands move from my face to down over my breasts, fingertips skimming over them, and then palms holding them up for a moment as he smiles.  Then his hands drop to the bottom of my shirt.  He tugs up, I raise my arms, and it comes off easily. 

He bites his lip a little and stares at my body.  Yeah, so I might have had some hopes and put on the laciest white bra I owned.  I almost put on the same one I wore Friday night. I even got out of the door and was smiling to myself about what would happen tonight, thinking back on Friday night, hoping for more that just a topless make out session.  God, I'm greedy.  And that's when I remembered him saying something about how sexy my bra was that night and I realized I had on the same one.  I couldn't do that!  I had to change it up.  So I ran back inside, dumped my drawer with all my bras in it on the floor and scavenged around until I found this one, lacy and white, and barely covering my nipples.  I figured he'd like it.

And he seems to really like it.  He keeps staring, licking and biting his lips, eyes glued to my chest.  I smile, loving the way he looks at me like that, like...like he really does want me.  He's seen me like this before, but the amazement is still in his face and eyes, and it makes me want to latch my arms around his neck and tell him I love him.

But...but no, I can't do that.  No...not yet.

I move my hands to the hem of his shirt.  I tug up and his long, muscular arms rise over his head.  I toss the white tank to the floor on top of my grey shirt.  We’re back again like we were that Friday night.  Topless and horny, out of breath and smiling.

But nothing’s stopping us this time.  Nothing. Ceilings crashing in be damned.  If it didn’t knock me out, I’d still be grabbing onto him, kissing him. 

I run my fingers over his shoulders and chest, a need to just touch him and have his skin under my hand.  I look down and can see him hard and strangled even in the loose fabric of his black pants.  I bite my lip and reach to touch him.

But instead I gasp and end up grasping his thigh, because I feel his fingers reach into the front of my jeans, his hand grabbing the top of the waist and tugging them closer, sliding me closer.  He licks his lips at me for a moment, smirks and then kisses my mouth while I feel his hands working on me down there, unbuttoning, unzipping, intentionally brushing and touching and pressing and turning me on.

My jeans are tight and when he tries to stick his hand inside of them it’s difficult.  I groan and whine and moan against his mouth and he pulls back laughing just a bit.  Fuck, his laugh is pure sex to me.  “Stay put.”

He stumbles off the bench for a moment and I close my eyes and try to breathe, try to calm myself down.  But when he sits right behind me, his body pressed against mine, lips by my ear, bare chest against my bare back, his lap pressed into my ass, I lose all control. 

His hands run over my shoulders, pushing down the straps, rubbing over my body, rubbing over to my back, undoing the bra.  His hands move in front, pulling the material from me and immediately cover my breasts.  His hands are warm and feel good in the cool air of the room.  He cups them appreciatively, not too eager or rough, holding them and squeezing them delicately, palming my nipples just slightly, as his mouth runs against my bare shoulder.

He licks me and kisses all against my neck up against my jaw, light and seductive, his hands against my chest and now…oh god now…moving down and down, flattening over my belly.  I tilt my head back.  He’s…he’s gonna touch me…oh god…and he’s not gonna do it over my panties.

"Friday, you asked me to do something for you, but we got too crazy and I was unable."  His voice is light and teasing and he presses his lips against my ear, whispering, "Will you let me now?"

“Oh my god, I want you so bad.”  I moan eagerly, completely losing my cool when his hand surges down and touches my slippery skin.  His hand is stuffed down the front of my jeans, wiggling a little, trying to fit his large, long fingers down in between the material and my wetness.  Soon he finds a comfortable space, the only space, with his palm against my clit and his fingers rubbing and probing the wetness…stroking me there slowly, softly, fingertips against and in between the folds, but not going in. 

I can feel him smiling against my skin and he bites my shoulder just slightly.  His crotch is pressed hard into my ass and his one hand that was still on my breast moves down and pulls my thighs apart so that I fall back against him a little, my legs spread wide and my back and shoulders leaning against his chest.  I tilt my head to the side and just stare at him.  I stare into his eyes and he stares back into mine as his fingers explore me.

God, they feel…they’re like matches setting my body on fire, every light stroke is a strike against the matchbox.  But his fingers aren't rough.  No, no it's so smooth down there and now they’re wet, spreading it all around, pulling up a little to rub his wet fingertips against my clit.  I moan and push back into him, closing my eyes and tilting my head into his neck, pushing my hips against his hand. 

“Does this feel good?” He whispers to me and I nod, eyes still closed, loving how he feels, unable to say anything ‘cause my lip is in between my teeth and I'm concentrating on how he feels touching me.  God, it’s better than I could imagine.  His hands are meant to be on me. He’s meant to touch me like this, to fucking play me like an instrument and elicit little moans and noises out from me.  I can’t stand it and I reach up and grab the back of his head, the hair there just short enough to where I can’t grasp it in my fingers.  I pull him against me and kiss him hard and he moans just softly, not a shocked or eager moan, but a soft, contented one, like when someone rubs a sore shoulder for a moment. 

He pulls back after a while, fingers stroking me smoothly, palm pressing and rotating, just staring at me as he does it.  I gasp lightly.

His lips flick and rub against mine, open mouths against each other.  He smiles a little and tugs on my bottom lip with his teeth, before pulling away and leaning in to whisper in my ear, his rough stubble against my cheek, “May I…”

“Yes…”  I say and it's demanding and rushed.

It happens. I start to feel him putting pressure against my opening. 

He slides one long finger all the way in and I hiss out, “Yes...” 

My mouth opens when he immediately pulls out and pushes in two.

Oh fuck…

His hand feels like heaven.  It’s weird how I’ve wished and dreamed and fantasized about this and it’s…it’s too good, it’s better.  I can’t really even believe I’m here doing this with him, feeling these things with him.  And to think all those months ago I just thought he was a flirt. I didn’t think he gave a damn about me.  And here he is…shit, with his palm against my clit and his fingers stroking up and down inside of me, in and out and over again.  He curls them inside of me and twists them, feeling me out and making me moan and jerk.  I arch into him, pressing my breasts out, and when I look over at him, he’s looking down at me, at my body, at my breasts and nipples that are hard.

He moves his hand from my thigh up over my stomach, rubbing my breasts in turn appreciatively, pulling at my nipples just slightly, not harsh, but just enough to make me hump against his hand.

And I can feel him against my ass, hard and thick. I can hear him breathing, quiet, not saying a word, but working out my moans and sighs with his hands. 

It starts to build quickly, quicker than it ever has before.  And I grind my body down against his hand and breathe out, “yes.” It hasn’t taken long and I realize how much I really have been craving this, craving him and his hand working me out so well.  It was different before.  At Liz and Rich's, it was insane and wild and we were both a little drunk, ok, a lot drunk really. We were out of control and my mind was cloudy.  Now it's all clear, but I still feel out of control while he's completely in control. 

I like this.  I like the thought of this not ending.  Of a week from now, a month from now...hell, a year from now, having him do this to me...but me naked on the couch or the bed of his place, both of us naked and jerking, pulling and pushing each other into orgasm.  And then right before it happens, he'd tell me to stop and he'd pull his hands away and he'd enter me and fuck me silly.

I push my hands into his thighs to give myself some leverage as I work my body against his fingers, fucking them with quick thrusts of my hips.  It's what I think about now, him entering me.  I pretend his fingers are his dick and I start to feel it coming. Fast.  Shit, so fucking fast. 

“You wanna come?”  It’s said low and breathy against my ear. I nod and whine and lift my hips up, beating them against his hand.  Fucking shit he’s perfect.  He wraps his other arm and hand that was on my breasts around my middle and holds me steady as I try to hold on.

I do.  But his hand is working insane on me; furious, wild, doing things I’ve never had a man do to me. Things I’ve never done to myself, twisting and curling and being rough, but not too much, just enough, smacking my clit with his palm, while fucking me with his fingers.  I bite my lip and close my eyes. I can’t believe it. He’s…he’s really gonna do it.

This man, my Justin, is gonna fucking make me cum.  That thought gets me there fast and pushes me straight to the edge. 

I sigh his name and he holds me tighter, groaning into my ear, “Come on Jess...” He’s encouraging me with his words, his breath against my neck and face, his hand in my jeans and his lap pressed so tightly against my ass.

Suddenly, like a snap, I'm fucking there.  I can’t control it. I squeal and pant and rock my hips against his hand, feeling every smooth movement of his fingers. I feel the pressure of his hand, his lips against my neck, rocking me and rocking me into my orgasm as I jerk over and over and then slow down, jerking violently just once, again but this time softly, grinding my hips down against his wet and cramped hand.  

I collapse back against him. 

His fingers are trapped for a moment and he slips them out slowly, making me moan at the absence. I can tell when he pulls out that my body more than liked that, as I'm sucking against him, trying not to let his hand leave me.  He wraps both his arms around me and leans in with his head, trying to kiss me. I feel light and tingly and weak, yet it’s still there.  I still need him. 

I need my man.  God, I hope he’s my man.  I smile against his mouth and he pulls back from the kiss with a slight grin.  I sigh and he rubs his nose against mine for the second time tonight.  It's a soft, sweet gesture and I have to wonder if that's something he normally does with girls, or just with me.  He whispers, “Like that?”

I groan and nod and twist my body against him, him still holding me, me attacking his mouth with mine.

It becomes chaos for a moment. Grabbing and rubbing, him still behind me, me twisted in front of him, sucking against his mouth, grabbing his face and shoulders, trying to pull him into me.  He pulls back a little and laughs quietly, “Hold on…”

He tugs on me a little, his hands pulling up on my hips. I stand up off the bench, wobbling a little as the aftershocks of my orgasm ripple lightly through me, making my legs feel numb.  He turns and sits on the bench instead of straddling it, facing me, staring up at me.  His hand wanders up to my breasts and then back down to my hips.  He smiles at me.  “Let’s get these jeans off.” 

I smile at him and put my hands over his and help him push down.  I kick off the flip flops I had on and pull my jeans from my ankles, standing in front of him in nothing but a black thong.  Holy shit.  I almost want to laugh.  Here I am, in this fucking store with him and I’m almost naked.  And it’s not weird.  I glance up towards the front windows and thank him silently that there are huge coverings over the glass.

I look back at him and his eyes are scanning my body. His lips are tugged into a smile, tongue coming out to wet his lips, hands rubbing up and down his own thighs.  I can still see it there, hard and pressing, waiting for a release.  “There…"  He whispers and smiles and just looks at my panties.  I wonder if he can see the wetness from where he is sitting. 

Well if he can, it's his fault. 

And I want to punish him like he just punished me, getting me all off, but not with his dick.  I smirk, I feel sexy and powerful staring down at him, having him look up at me with those blue eyes.  He wants me, I can taste it and see it in the air between us.  He’s made me feel this way, this in control yet completely not, so sexy yet so eager.  His dick is straining hard against his pants.  He wants it so bad, too.  He wants to come so, so bad.

I intend to give him his release.  He just worked me out well; fast, hard, swift, coaxing my body into orgasm with such ease.

And I'm doing the same for him. 

I smile and lower down onto my knees.  I push my hands against his legs and separate them wide. 

“What…what are you…?”

I’m not one of those girls that sit up at night fantasizing about giving head.  But with him, it’s different.  I want to see him moan.  I want to feel his hands in my hair.  I want to get him there and make him cum.  I want to make him lose it too, and I want to do it easy and skillfully just like he worked me out moments before.  I wanna see and hear what he does when he orgasms.  I need to know.

I run my hands up his thighs and watch as he grips the bench on either side of his hips as my hand massages his length in his pants.  I waste no time and I undo his belt, button, and zipper.  “Let me…” I look up at him and whisper.

His mouth slowly opens and I stuff my hand inside and pull him out, over the top of his boxers, through the opened V of his pants. 

I blink and stare at it, long and smooth, the head red and glistening.  I smile. I knew he'd be big.  I just knew it.  I look up at him and bite my lip so I don't giggle.  God it’s gonna feel like heaven inside of me.  I smile at it and run my hands against it, leaning forward, listening to him suck in a breath.  I bet he tastes good; earthy, manly.  I bet he’ll even feel good in my mouth.  I’ve never even really desired to do this to a man, but leaning forward, seeing him stare and lick at his lips, gripping the bench, just waiting on me, slightly mesmerized by me...  It makes me get there again, it turns me on and makes my already soaked panties on fire.

I lick my lips and close in on the tip, “God I’ve been wanting to do this so long…”

I open my mouth and take him in me, moaning as his smooth, hard length is sucked in between my lips.  His hands fall against my head, fingers weaving in the strands.  I close my eyes and smile when I hear him say soft, quiet, “Sh-shit…”

I go down as far as I can, but he's long, and I can only get a little more than half way.  God this is amazingly hot.  And when I look up he’s just staring at me, licking his lips.  I've only done this with one other guy, but I want to do everything with him.  I want him all over me.  I hear him groan and his fingers press tighter against my head as I suck him hard and pull back with a slight pop.

“That ok?” I whisper, blowing on the head just a little, watching him twitch when I go back in to flick my tongue against it.

“Yeah…” He drags out, slightly out of breath.  I smile and kiss along his shaft, holding it in my hand before I go back and take him completely in my mouth, lightly bobbing against him, sucking lightly, swirling my tongue around him.  He groans and laughs a little, his one hand running through my hair and holding onto the back of my head, holding me against him.  “Just...just like that…” 

I speed up and he makes a groan that’s deep from his throat.  “Shit, yes...”  I start to go faster, getting motivated by his noises and the feel of his hand on my head.  I don’t wanna waste any time.  I wanna see him come.  I want to make him do it, too, fast…hard.  I want to make him lose all that control he just had over me.  He’s spread his legs wide now and is slouching just a bit.  

“I…”  He groans and then I feel him pushing at my shoulder and head a little, making me pull off of him.  I look up at him when his cock falls from my mouth as he breathes hard and stares at me.  Did...wait, what did I do wrong?  I stare at him, panicked for a moment while he catches his breath and gulps.  He meets my gaze and shakes his head,  “I don’t wanna come in your mouth…” 

He stands up in front of me immediately, dick still hanging out.  There’s a concerned look on his face.  Did…did I do something wrong?  He seemed to be enjoying it.  What's...what's happened?  Don't tell me he's going to bail on me.  No, no, no...

 I stand up in front of him and open my mouth to say something, to plead to him, to beg him not to leave.  He can’t leave now.  But before I say anything, his pants and boxers are down at his ankles and he’s stepping out of them, just his little socked feet left covering him  He sits back down on the bench, staring up at me as he takes them off by hooking them off his heel.  I open my mouth to speak, but he's now finally, fully naked in front of me.  All of him, from his muscular top to his skinny legs. He's hard and wet, sticking out from his body, curving just slightly. 

I swallow the lump in my throat as he sits there and stares up at me, mouth wet from where he’s been licking his lips, cock twitching and standing up, ready for me.  Begging for me.  “What are you-”

His hands move to my hips and he rips down my underwear. 

Oh...

Oh I get it.  He doesn’t want to come inside my mouth.  He wants to come inside my...

I blink and kick my panties off to the side. Fucking shit, I feel like I might pass out.

I start to say his name, asking him why he's looking at me like that, so serious, “Just-“

I don’t have time to think or say or do anything.  He grabs my hips, pulls me down across his lap, making me straddle him.  I stare at him and he stares at me, blue eyes dead serious, but smiling, eager and excited.   I can feel him in between us, moving, his hand…oh god his hand…

I feel him pushing against me, the smooth head of his dick, its pressing just lightly against my opening.  I feel my body spread for him, ready for him to enter.  His hands hold onto my hips and he pushes me down, not saying a word, not giving me any notice, just making me swallow him up against him.

It... it...

Fucking shit...

Finally.

I can only say one thing, choking a little as I try to say it.

“God…”

I clutch onto him as the size of him impales me for a moment.  Oh god, he's big.  I can feel him stretching me, completing me, filling me out.  Oh fuck, it's perfect.  It's...It's better than anything.  Oh my god.

Oh my god.

I'm...he's...he's in me!

I whimper and breathe and hold onto him, trying not to squeal or freak out on him, but my mind is freaking out.  We're...we're there.  All he has to do is thrust and we're fucking.  Oh my god.  All this time, all the stress and the worry, and the pent up frustration leaves me and I'm left feeling empty and craving.

Craving him to fuck me to pieces.

I press my lips against his shoulder and force my eyes to blink.  Holy fucking…

He sighs into my ear heavily, “Sweet fucking Jesus.”

I just sit there, trying to get use to his body in mine.  But it’s weird.  I sit there and he holds me, his lips against my neck and shoulder and it’s like I already am use to him. I was before he entered me.  It’s sexy yes, I’m fucking ready to fuck this man to death yes…but right now, in this moment, just sitting here with him, feeling all of him… it’s perfect, calm, and easy.

“This feels…”

He pulls back for a minute, his arms still around me and he smiles saying, “Shh...” and then he kisses me.  It’s slow and sexy, his tongue lingering against mine.  He pulls back and presses his forehead against me.

Then he starts to laugh. 

I don't know why, but I can feel it in me…rippling inside, dick moving a little with each deep chuckle. 

I whine at the feeling, “Oh, don’t laugh.”

He pulls me in tighter and keeps laughing, “I’m sorry, I just realized my bare ass is on this nasty bench.”

I smile and kiss his neck softly, “You wanna move?”

“Never,” he says breathlessly, quickly.  He pulls me close and I can feel him deep, deep inside me and I relax completely on him, ignoring how uncomfortable my knees feel pressing into the hard bench.   “Fuck Jessica, I’ve been wanting this since the moment I saw you.  I've wanted to be inside of you so, so fucking bad.  I’ve been dying without this.  I’ve needed to fuck you.”

I pull back a little and look at him.  He looks so serious, mouth slightly opened, eyes deep and concerned, staring into mine.  I smile.  It’s time.  It’s been fucking time for a fucking half year.

I need him.  I shake my head and smile at him, “Well then fuck me, Justin.”

It’s all I have to say and his lips are against mine, his hands on my hips. He’s pulling me up just to push me down again.  Fuck, fuck, fuck!  It’s…god dammit!  Feeling him go out of me and then slide back in…shit.  When he first pulled me down on his dick, I really couldn’t feel anything more than shock.  But now…god…

He’s pushing and pulling as my body seems to want to go with him when he moves.  My body is sucking against him, not wanting to let him go.  Oh please don't let me go.

He holds my hips steady and thrusts up into me not slowly, but softly, not fucking me hard, but just right, looking up at me with a smirk.  I hold onto him and feel one of his hands run up the length of my back and back down, grabbing hold of my ass.

“Yes…”  He growls and thrusts up into me harder.  Over and over. "Yes Jessica," he hisses into my ear, making me flood around him and let out deep moans, moans I was unaware I was able to make.  Oh god, don't ever stop, oh shit...

He stops.

What! No....no!

I stare at him and gulp and shake my head as the ringing echoes in my ears. “No! No!” 

He sighs and closes his eyes.  I shake my head and watch him turn and stare over at the register where the phone is ringing.  The fucking phone is ringing! “Let it ring.  It’s not…”  I feel him shift.  The phone keeps ringing and I call out to him as I just know this is it.  This is over.  I can’t…I can’t handle it!  This isn’t fucking fair!  It’s not!  I need him.  I don’t care who’s on the fucking phone!  “Justin, please don't.”

“Hold onto me, Jess.”  He kisses me quickly and I feel his hands on my ass as he stands up, never once leaving my body.  He stumbles over our clothes a little, but he doesn’t move from being deep inside of me.  And I clutch onto him, shocked at what’s happening.  He’s carrying me across the room, saying softly, “Just hold the fuck on,” into my ear.

I hold on.  I hold on for dear life.  I’m not letting go of him, I don’t care who’s on the phone.  I don’t care where he’s taking me.  He’s inside of me now, and he’s never leaving.  I can’t let him leave now.  Now after it’s happened, now after he's actually in me, fucking me.  We're doing this today. We've already started and we can’t stop.  We just can’t! Shit, I need him, not just sexually craving someone so bad, but I need him.  Him.

It's...it's so much more than a crush and an attraction now.  It's more than wanting to fuck him everyway.

I want to be with him everyday.

Holding onto him, my face buried into his shoulder, confused about what’s happening and what he's doing, it happens.  I fall.  I fall deep and deadly in love with him.

And it’s changing everything.  Now I don’t care who’s on the phone, just as long as he doesn’t leave me.  As long as I can stay right here, wrapped around him, completely around him.