Page 75 of One More Dare
His words sense a jolt of desire through me, and my spent dick is fighting to come back to life as I use my mouth more skillfully, focusing my attention on repeating the motions that have him gasping the loudest as my fingers search his ass for whatever that spot is that made me feel so incredible.
“Will,” he moans, sounding more and more desperate. “I’m gonna come!”
This time, I don’t pull off, keeping him in my mouth as his cum coats my throat. I do my best to swallow it down, but some leaks out of the corner of my mouth so I attempt to lick that up, too.
“Fuck, that’s so much. How do you make that look so easy?” I ask with a laugh after I catch my breath and pull my fingers out of him.
“Practice, I suppose,” he answers breathily with a sassy edge to his tone.
“Well, that was amazing,” I say as I stand, going into his bathroom to wash my hands and grab a washcloth to run under warm water. I return to where he’s still sprawled out on the bed, relieved when he allows me to clean him up this time.
When I’m finished, I snuggle back up to him in bed, wantingto be close to him, needing the reassurance that he won’t immediately pull away again. “Next time, can we try more butt stuff? And can you wear those sexy little panties?” I ask because that sounds so fucking hot, but also because I really want there to be a next time.
He lets out a surprised laugh before responding in his playful tone that I love. “Maybe if you’re lucky.”
33
PORTER
“Your brother should be here any minute. Thanks again for picking up the cake this morning. I really thought I’d be able to take the day off work,” Mom calls over her shoulder while pulling the food she’s warming out of the oven.
She’s never really had time to cook, so reheating things was always the main function of our oven. Probably for the best with how old it is.
“No problem, Mom,” I assure her even though I’d flinched when the bakery informed me the cake was not already paid for. I won’t tell her I covered it though, my mom isn’t manipulative, and she’d told me multiple times she was planning to pick it up. She probably forgot all about the cost and would be horrified to find out I spent my own money.
I’m also not really sure why we even need a whole cake when it’ll only be three of us. Maybe because it’s my brother’s first birthday since he moved out, and my mom is feeling nostalgic.
“Oh, I’m just so excited to have you both home!” she announces for probably the tenth time today.
I smile and nod, trying not to think about how much I’m missing Will, even if he’s gone this weekend anyway for a game. I really am glad to be here though, even if things do always feel a little strained when the three of us are back together. I haven’t seen my mom or brother since Christmas, and the timing couldn’t have been better with everything that’s been going on with Will.
I still can’t believe it’s been over two weeks since he showed up with the flowers, and I gave into the idea of being his big bi-awakening, friends-with-benefits experiment. Over two weeks of blowjobs and fingering and biting my tongue every time I want to beg him to just fuck me instead. He’s been taking the lead on our hookups, and it’s always so good, I just don’t know how much longer I’ll last without knowing what it feels like to have his dick inside of me.
Outside of sex though, I’ve actually been pretty impressed by my ability to avoid spending too much time with Will. I’ve worked extra shifts and organized study dates with other friends; I’ve probably never been this prepared for finals. And every time he’s invited himself over to watch a movie or offers to bring me food, I make sure one of us ends the night daring the other person to hook up so that there’s no chance of me forgetting what’s really going on between us.
I’m fully accepting this for what it is—good old-fashioned college fun. It’s not like I’m going to marry him or anything. That’d be crazy. When things between us end when the semester is over, I’ll be fine. I’ll keep myself busy with work like usual and pretend I won’t be wishing for more all of senior year too.
Why couldn’t I have met him senior year, ugh.
“Hey, bro,” Lewis greets as he strolls into the kitchen.
I’m setting the table because I always revert back to helping as much as I can when I’m around my mom and Lewis.
“Hey, happy birthday.”
“Thanks,” he mutters, dropping his keys on the counter as my mom rushes to wrap him up in a hug.
“You’re here!” Mom coos. “I got that lasagna you love and garlic bread. I just took them out of the oven. And Porter picked up your cake on his way here.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Lewis assures her, knowing just how stretched thin Mom is.
“Of course I did, honey. It’s your birthday!”
He rolls his eyes, but he’s fighting a smile. “I’m nineteen, not nine.”
“I will always take the opportunity to celebrate another year with both my kids.”
“I’ll get the drinks,” I cut in before Lewis can say something about how he wished Mom wouldn’t make comments like that. He hates any reminder that there was a time his birthdays didn’t feel guaranteed. “What do you want, Lewis? Water? Soda? There’s beer in the fridge, but I don’t know if Mom lets you drink.”
