Her mother sighed again. “Hurry back and you can pick some out.” Lindsey hefted an orange bottle of Tide from the bottom shelf. It made her think of Zach and the way he had tossed her clothes in his little stackable washer and dryer in his apartment. That hadn’t been the last time she had seen him-they’d had two more dates with just a kiss at her doorstep, which had left her both confused and annoyed.
And then there was the couch incident.
She balanced the detergent against her hip, remembering the last time she was by his place. She’d thought it might have happened then, when they were together on the couch. Zach must have thought they’d be safer in the living room than the bedroom, but Lindsey could maneuver her little body into all sorts of positions, and had managed to free his cock, pulling her shorts and panties aside so she was rubbing up against him as they kissed.
The feel of her hot, slick cunt riding up and down his shaft should have done it-
that and, of course, all the begging and pleading and dirty talk she was doing in his ear.
It was certainly having an effect on his cock. It was rock hard and weeping, his hands digging deep into the flesh of her hips and ass as she rubbed against him, and his groans were definitely caught somewhere between pleasure and pain.
“Please, baby, please,” she begged him, her tank-tee pulled up over her little breasts, the nipples hard as she rocked faster. “God, I can’t stand it, Zach, I want you, I want your cock in me, baby, ohhh god please fuck me, please, please…” She wasn’t even sure of the words, she was just begging him, aching for him-she honestly couldn’t remember a time when she had wanted sex so much, not for real. He made her head swim.
“Lindsey, listen…” He always tried talking, some rational discussion, some logical reason why not, but she didn’t want to hear it and would do anything
“Suck my tits,” she moaned, directing her nipple into his mouth. “Please, god, suck it hard. Sometimes I can come that way.”
That made him groan and draw her nipple into his mouth with a ferocious hunger, working the other one between his big fingers. She thrashed and twisted in his lap,
working her hips in fast, hot circles over his dick, sure that if she came this way, if he reduced her to a wet, quivering puddle of cum on his couch, he would have to fuck her-he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.
“Baby, god, that’s it!” she cried, thrusting her hips against his, feeling her climax coming. He mouthed her other nipple, sucking it hard and sending her right over the edge. Lindsey quivered on his lap, her pussy clamping down against his cock as she came, flooding him with her wetness. She knew he must feel every sweet pull of her cunt, trying to suck his dick into her, and she wasted no time reaching down and aiming him at her spasming hole.
“Ohhh fuck, baby, no,” he groaned as she began to slide down onto him. His hands grabbed her hips, stopping her, and she cried out in frustration, feeling just the big head of his cock throbbing inside of her. “No, no, listen, wait… remember, we talked about getting tested before we…”
“Nooooo,” she wailed, nearly sobbing against him, biting at his shoulder, desperate to have him. Yes, he’d brought up the subject of diseases and multiple partners and it was all very logical, and at the time, Lindsey understood. Now, though, riding up and down against the sweet length of his cock, aching for him inside of her, she didn’t care. “Pleeeeeease don’t make me stop…”
She felt more than saw him giving in, the way his hands eased up on her hips, the deep throb of his cock as he lifted himself, just a little, seeking more heat. It would have happened, she knew it would have-if the damned phone hadn’t rung. He tumbled her off of him, hanging onto his unbuckled jeans in one hand and grabbing for the
phone, but he was too late. It went to message while Lindsey pulled her top back down and her shorts into place and curled up on the couch hugging one of the pillows.
“Hey, baby, it’s Alicia, I’m in town for a few days, I’d
Lindsey had lifted her head, incredulous, as some Beyonce wannabe left her number on Zach’s answering machine while he zipped his jeans and went to hit “stop” as fast as he could. It was too late, though. She’d got the message-loud and clear.
“That’s not what you think,” Zach insisted as she pulled on her sandals. “Lindsey, listen, she’s-”
“Don’t worry about it,” Lindsey remembered saying, unchaining and unlocking the apartment door. “At least
“Lindsey!”
