Maybe Not (Maybe #1.5)(18)



Her hand is in the air, poised to knock on my door. She looks just as shocked that I opened it as I am that she’s standing here. She’s wearing a black lace bra and the tiniest pair of panties I’ve ever seen in my life. She lowers her arm and we stare at each other for a solid five seconds before I’m pulling her inside, slamming my door and pushing her up against it. Her tongue is in my mouth faster than I can slip my hand beneath her bra.

“Is this what you sleep in?” I say against her mouth, pulling the straps of her bra down.

“Yes,” she says breathlessly. She tilts her head and pushes my face against her neck. “But sometimes I sleep naked.”

I groan and press myself against her, ready to sink myself inside of her. “I like it.” I spin her around until her chest is pressed against the door and her back is to me. I wrap my arm around her and grab one of her breasts while I slide my other hand down to her ass. She’s in a thong. A teeny, tiny, black, lacy, beautiful thong. I rub my hand over her and then slip my fingers beneath the thin veil of fabric, pulling it down to her knees. I watch as her thong falls to her ankles and she kicks it aside.

I position myself directly behind her and run my hands down her back and to her waist. “Put your palms against the door.”

She doesn’t move them right away. I can feel her hesitation. I’m sure she doesn’t want to hand over control again, but she needs to realize she lost control the second she showed up at my bedroom door.

I watch as she slowly presses her palms against my bedroom door. I lean forward and brush her hair away from her neck, dropping it over her shoulder. “Thank you,” I whisper against her neck. I pull her hips until she’s flush against me, and then I remove my boxers and open the condom.

“Bend over a little more,” I tell her.

She does. She’s such a fast learner.

I wrap my fingers in her hair and twist my hand around until I have a fistful of it, and then I tug just enough to get her to lift her face. She whimpers when I do this, and that little whimper is all it takes for me to push into her, as far as I can go until she’s completely full.

“Make that sound again,” I whisper.

She doesn’t, so I tug at her hair. The noise escapes her throat and it’s so beautiful and full of desire. I pull out and push back into her, and the same sound passes her lips. I can’t take it. I don’t know if I can do this standing up, because that sound is making me dizzy.

I cover one of her hands with mine and squeeze, giving myself the wall support I need to continue moving in and out of her. Every time she whimpers, I push into her a little bit harder. She begins to whimper, over and over, occasionally replacing that sound with my name, and I already know I’m gonna sleep like a rock tonight.

Right when I feel myself growing close to release, I pull out of her and reposition her so that her back is against the door. I lift her legs and wrap them around my waist, sliding back inside of her with ease. I keep one arm wrapped around her waist to hold her up and my other hand pressed against the door for support. My tongue is fighting hers, and I’m swallowing every sound she’s willing to give me.

Her hands are gripping my neck, so I reach behind me and pull one of her hands away. I press her palm against her chest and slide it slowly down her stomach. My forehead meets hers, and I look her hard in the eyes. “Touch yourself.”

Her eyes grow wide, and she begins to shake her head. I place my hand on top of hers and I look down at where are bodies join together. I move her hand a few more inches until her fingers are right where I want them. “Please,” I breathe out, desperately.

I need my hand for support, so I pull it away and press it against the door beside her head. I’m still holding her around the waist with my other arm and slowly pushing in and out of her. Our foreheads are still pressed together, but now my eyes are planted on her hand as she timidly begins to move her fingers in a slow, circular motion.

“Holy shit,” I exhale. I watch her for a minute longer, until she starts to relax against her hand, and then I move my eyes back to her face. I pull away and stare down at her, watching as her head falls back against the door. Her eyes are closed and her lips are slightly parted and all I can feel in my heart is kiss her, kiss her.

My lips come down gently against hers and she moans softly into my mouth. I tease her lips with the tip of my tongue, sliding it across her top lip and then her bottom. Her moans are becoming more frequent, and the more I press her against the door, the better I can feel her hand moving between us.

I can’t believe this is real life. I can’t believe she lives five feet away from me and she’s willing to give me this part of her. I’m the luckiest man in the world.

She starts to whimper again, but this time my mouth is resting against hers and I take in every single one of the sounds she makes. She tilts her face more and more to mine, wanting me to kiss her hard, but I’m enjoying this too much. I love the way she looks right now, eyes closed, mouth open, heart exposed. I don’t want to kiss her. I want to keep my eyes open and watch every second of this.

I stop moving inside of her and wait for her to finish, because if I keep moving, I won’t last another second. She begins to open her eyes, wondering why I stopped, so I lean in to her ear. “You’re almost there,” I whisper. “I just want to watch you.”

She relaxes again and I continue to watch her, soaking up every whimper and every moan and every movement she makes like I’m a sponge and she’s my water.

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