Dreams of 18(89)

In fact, I want Richard to watch. I want the whole world to watch when I pick him. When I pick my Graham.

I hike up my thigh until Graham gets the message and he heaves me up in his arms.

I wind my legs around his waist and put my mouth on him.

Not only that, I moan too.

I moan into the kiss that Graham returns with equal fervor. He splays his hand on the back of my head and practically presses my lips on his.

I let him do that and devour my mouth while I open my eyes.

I open them and look directly into the eyes of a stranger in almost a year. I look directly at Richard, who hasn’t gone anywhere.

Maybe he was going to but our sudden actions stopped him, Graham’s and mine. And now, he’s watching us with a frown.

But again, I don’t care – I want him to watch – and neither does Graham.

I feel so rebellious in this moment, so wild. So unlike my anxious, shy self.

We kiss and kiss while I’m looking Richard in the eyes, while I’m telling him that my man – my honey – makes it good for me.

He makes it so good, so fucking fantastic that I can’t stop moaning. I can’t stop writhing in his lap. I can’t stop humping his stomach. I can’t stop my pussy from going wet and steamy for him and I’m not even wearing panties. I’m probably smearing my wetness all over his shirt, making it messy.

Most of all I can’t stop acting like a slut.

I’m his slut, I tell Richard.

Who shakes his head like he’s so disgusted by it but his eyes are wide and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and I know that he’s not.

He feels it too.

What we feel, Graham and me. This overwhelming need. This craving.

This thing that’s always been between us, right from the beginning. Right from that first look.

The thing that made us outcasts and ashamed and crazy. Maybe even criminals.

But we don’t care because we’re not doing anything wrong. We never did.

Finally, Richard realizes what he’s doing and gets moving.

He unglues his eyes and his feet and turns around and stalks out of there.

I break the kiss, then.

I pant into Graham’s mouth, “I wanna suck your cock.”

I want to.

I want to tell him what this means to me. What his support and protection, his claiming means to me. What it means to have no anxious thoughts in my head even for a few moments.

It means that I want to love him. I want to care for him. I want to make him feel special and I know he loves fucking my mouth.

He loves it when I take him in and suck on his crown like candy.

In fact, he goes crazy when I do that.

He changes.

He becomes a beast and I want that. I want to change him like he just transformed me. From a shy and anxious girl to this person who looked into a stranger’s eyes and kissed the man she loved.

I claimed him. I stood up for him and this thing between us when I thought I’d never be able to, not ever.

I didn’t let my anxiety win for once and I want to love him for that.

“Please, honey.”





If I thought my words would shock him, then I would be wrong.

They don’t shock him at all.

In fact, he watches me with hooded but knowing eyes. “Having him watch made you hot, huh?”

I blush.

Even though I was the one who started it and I’m the one who wants to keep going.

“Yeah. M-maybe. I just… I just want you in my mouth. Please.”

So I can love him.

I even squirm in his lap. I wiggle and wriggle until I feel it. I feel his cock in the crease of my ass, all hard and thick.

It makes him thrust his hips, jerk off his shaft against my butt. But he doesn’t give in. Not yet.

He presses his forehead to mine and rasps, “You okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You were scared.”

I was. I was until he came along and saved me so epically. Both from Richard and from my thoughts.

“I’m not now.”

I’m so not. Not in this moment.

In this moment, I’m just horny and thankful.

He searches my face. “You sure?”

I fist his hair and rock against him like I can’t contain this need inside of me. To be on my knees right now. To take him in my mouth, to taste him, to smell him.

God, I want him all over me.

“I am. You made it okay. You saved me. You put yourself at risk for me.” That gives me a pause and my anxiety creeps back in. “D-do you think my saying stuff to him and kissing you made things worse? I was just trying to –”

He scoffs, cutting my words off. “I told you. You’re not explaining yourself to anyone.”

“But… will he fire you now?”

Maybe my standing up for him did him exactly zero favors. Maybe my claiming could be his downfall.

He presses our foreheads together. “He’s not going to fire me. And even if he did, it doesn’t matter. There are a million jobs out there, okay? It’s not a big deal.”

“B-but, I –”

“Shh.” He shushes me against my lips. “Look at me, you’re not thinking about it. You’re not fucking wasting your time, thinking about it.”

I swallow and with it, I try to swallow down my fears and anxieties and every bad thought in my head.