Page 43 of Crashing Into You

“Pancakes? Scrambled eggs… ungh.”

The “ungh” is because I’ve wriggled away from him and turned around, taking his cock in my mouth again. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of doing this. I’ve always enjoyed giving head, finding it a turn-on to how excited I make the recipient. Especially when it’s someone as beautiful as Bryce. He smacks my ass, lightly, and I squeal.

“Oh, so this is how it is? Taking advantage of an innocent man in your bed?” He’s gasping, though, as I play with him.

“I hope you don’t mind,” I say, primly, pausing. “I can stop if you like.”

“Two can play at this game,” he says and, before I can resume, he pulls my hips around, parting my thighs. I cry out as his tongue laps against me, his finger sliding inside me. He sucks on my clit, gentle then harder, his finger tracing through my wetness then plunging inside me again. Pleasure builds, deep in me. I push my hips back, wanting the pressure, the friction of him. He obliges, his groans vibrating against me as I wrap my lips around his cock once more. We take each other to climax again, and once we’re done, I collapse on the bed next to him, breathing hard.

He kisses my thigh. “You are one hell of a virgin, Claire,” he pants.

“What?” I turn around so I can see him.

“Hey, this isn’t a bad thing. I just don’t know how you’ve hung on to it so long, looking the way you do and giving head the way you do.”

I sit up, unsure whether or not to be offended. “What do you mean?”

He reaches out, pulling me gently back to him. Unable to resist, I give in and lie down next to him, snuggling into his warmth. His free hand moves on my skin, gently caressing me. “I only mean, virgin is a pretty technical term at the moment, isn’t it? You’ve had so many orgasms in the past twelve hours I’ve lost count. And you’ve given me plenty, as well.” He kisses me. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“It wouldn’t even be a technical term if you’d let me have my way last night.”

“We need to get condoms. And then, when we do, I am going to lay you down on that big table of yours in front of the window. And I am going to kiss and lick and finger you until you’re dripping wet and then, when you’re ready, I’ll fuck you. Properly. How do you feel about that?”

I feel pretty damn turned on, if I’m honest. “When can we leave?” I say, breathless.

“Leave?”

“To go to the shops.”

He laughs, shaking against me. I trace my hand down his abs, running my fingers lightly through the nest of hair at his groin. “I wasn’t joking.”

He hugs me closer, kissing me again. “I’m going to have a shower, and then cook us some breakfast in that nice kitchen of yours. And we can go out after that. Besides,” he adds, over my protests, “the shops aren’t open yet, anyway.”

I giggle as I watch him walk into the ensuite, admiring the rippling muscles in his back. I grab my pillow, rolling over and holding it against me.

This is absolute madness. And I love it.

Bryce

Claire is beyond anything I could have ever imagined.

Aside from the brain-melting blow jobs, the fact that she’s still a virgin has blown my mind. I’m glad, in some small petty part of myself, that Simon never got to experience that with her. I want her first time to be special, something she enjoys, with someone who cares about her.

Because I do care about her. I’m utterly smitten, I realise. This girl has turned my life upside down, and I couldn’t be happier. The fact that she also has a magnificent set of tits and tastes like flowers is just a bonus, as far as I see it.

I wander into her kitchen, grinning when I spot our still-full coffee cups from the night before. I start opening cupboards and drawers until I find what I need. There’s an integrated fridge filled with food; I dig around for cheese, eggs and bacon, then pull a loaf of bread from the bread bin in the walk-in pantry. I’m struck once again by how beautiful this place is, how well designed, with every detail carefully thought out. It must have been heartbreaking for Claire to lose her parents for a lot of reasons, but one of them has to be the fact that they never got to have their dream of living here.

I start whisking eggs together in a bowl, then turn the stovetop on and put a frying pan over the heat. I drop in some bacon, then slice tomatoes. Toast is on the go, as is fresh coffee, all the makings of a top breakfast.

“This smells good.”

I turn around. Claire wanders in barefoot, looking as fresh as a fucking daisy, still towelling her damp hair. She drops the towel over a chair and runs her hands through it, shaking out the long waves. She’s stunning, even with her face scrubbed clean of make-up. She’s wearing another little dress, red and white check with a nipped-in waist that makes her tits look even bigger. I want to flip up the skirt and bury my face in her.

“It’s going to taste even better.” I almost add,like you, but if we go down that path again, we’ll never get out of here.

“I’m starving,” she says. “Must be all the sleep I got last night.” She shoots me a sparkling glance, then starts laying out placemats and cutlery on the long table.

“Yes, it was very restful. Quiet, too. Apart from some strange gasping noises I heard.”