“Why? Are you jealous?” Her tone was teasing as she jerked her head out of my hand and reached between us, grabbing onto the steel length of me and squeezing out a torturous rhythm.
I rolled my eyes convincingly-I hoped. “Why should I be jealous of him? The guy’s all foam and no beer.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I snorted. “His chimney’s clogged…he doesn’t have all his Weetabix in one box…his lift doesn’t go all the way to the top…he forgot to pay his brain bill…”
“David, stop!”
“You deserve better than him. Kenny Moore is living proof that evolution can go in reverse!”
She tried to look cross, but she couldn’t help smiling. “Well…I have to admit, his aerial doesn’t pick up all the channels…” Dawn giggled and even I had to grin at her attempt to play my game. “But he’s a good kisser.”
That did it. I grabbed her bottom and pulled her off the sink, crushing her mouth to mine. She tried to gasp, breathe, something, but I wouldn’t let her, my tongue probing hers, my hands spreading her arse cheeks, kneading her flesh with my fingers. We parted breathless and I looked down into her glazed eyes for a moment, waiting for her to say something. Instead she sank to her knees and took me into her mouth.
“Oh God, Dawnie…”
Her tongue ran like silk around the sensitive head of my cock, her fingernails tickling the hair on my balls, her other hand stroking me as she began to suck, the mischievous tilt of her eyes never leaving mine. I could have watched her suck me forever-the pink slide of her lips taut around my shaft, the stretch of her tongue to reach my balls when she took all of me in, the reddened swelling of her mouth as she rubbed the head against her cheek before taking me again-could have watched her until she made me shoot the load I’d been saving for her all night right down that sweet, swallowing little throat. But Dawn had other ideas. Better ideas. And who was I to argue?
“I heard you fucking her…” She whispered her words as she outlined her mouth with the head of my cock like she was using a lipstick tube, spreading my precum over her lips. “Did you like her pussy? Did she make you come hard?”
I didn’t want to think about the girl sleeping in my bed. I didn’t want to admit that I’d had sex with anyone else but Dawn, and the absurd, twisted paradox of it threatened to make my skull explode as she stood and let me taste the pre-cum gloss on her lips.
“Did you like hers as much as mine?” She brought my hand between her legs and the heat there threatened to burn my palm as I cupped her bare flesh and slid a finger into her wetness. She sighed and shifted her hips forward, leaning her hands back against the counter and already involuntarily trying to fuck my hand, her eyes half-closing. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, before or since, and I wanted her more than I was willing to admit, even to myself. I couldn’t resist and there was no point trying. I sank to my knees and pressed my face to her pussy, the motion of my lips and tongue making her gasp and then moan and rock against me.
“You licked her, didn’t you?” Dawn’s hands moved in my hair as she eased her bottom onto the sink and spread her legs wider. “You ate her hot, wet little cunt until she came all over your face, didn’t you, Davey?”
I made a muffled, choking noise against her flesh and then sucked the tiny nub of her clit into my mouth, making her head go back, a low growling sound coming from her throat. She tasted like a fig, just as wrinkled and puckered, too, my tongue finding its way through the folds in her flesh. I thought she was going to give me her come, let me take it, draw it out of her like a bee’s search for a sweet meal, but Dawn had, as I said, other ideas. Better ones.
“I bet she didn’t let you fuck her arse, did she?”
I groaned, even with my tongue pressed into the juicy hole of her pussy, my nose rubbing up against her clit. She pulled my head back, my face smeared with her juices, and slid down to stand onto the floor again. Her eyes were on mine, that mischievous look back in them again, a light I’d come to recognise and love.
“But you’d like to get your prick into a tight little arsehole, wouldn’t you?” Her thumb rubbed her wetness over my lips and chin, her eyes following her fingers’ trail. “Especially if it was my tight little arsehole…wouldn’t you?”
I couldn’t speak. I could barely think. The only thing leading me was the hot throb of my prick, sticking straight up from my lap like an arrow pointing the way as she turned around and bent over the sink. When she opened her legs, reaching both of her hands back to spread her cheeks, I saw it all-the swollen, fleshy part of her pussy lips, the pink glistening through, and especially the fluted pucker above it, winking at me like a teasing promise.
“You want that?” She furrowed her arsehole, squeezing her muscles and releasing. “Tell me. Tell me you want to fuck my arse.” I groaned as she pressed one of her fingers to that groove, watching as the tip disappeared. My cock drooled at the sight of it and I gripped it tight, as if I could keep it collared.
“Dawnie…”
She fucked the pucker of her arse with one finger, her eyes watching me for a reaction. I felt dazed, sick with my own lust, but my cock didn’t care. Never mind that the girl I’d brought home was still asleep in my bed, and the bloke I’d heard Dawn fucking was just down the hall. Never mind we were shut up in the loo. Never mind that the arse in front of me belonged to a girl I wasn’t even supposed to be thinking about this way, let alone looking at or touching. My cock wanted what it wanted and I knew we were going in.
“Wait!” Dawn squealed as I pressed the mushroom head of my prick between her open cheeks. She whirled around, her eyes wide, wagging a finger in my face. She looked so much like she used to when I was a tot that for a moment I froze. I flashed to the time she took me to the corner shop and caught me stealing, and I was so lost in the memory that, for a moment, I didn’t even register what she was saying. “Don’t ever try to put your cock into a girl’s arse without lubing up first, you twat!”
Before I knew what was happening, she grabbed a bottle of lotion off the washroom counter, rubbing the thick stuff between her fingers to warm it before slathering it over my prick. I groaned, watching as she worked it up and down my shaft like a salve with her greasy hands. She was still shaking her head and muttering to herself about how daft I was, just like she had when she dragged me back to the store to apologise for stealing, yanking at my dick now like she’d yanked at my hand then, urging me to keep up.
That memory stayed, superimposed on the moment, and I remembered how long her strides had been, how shiny and blonde her hair was in the sun as she swung it over her shoulder and looked down at me with that sharp, disapproving look in her eyes. I’d never wanted to please anyone else more than in that moment and was filled with the shame of disappointing her. I didn’t care so much about the sweets in my pocket or even that it was wrong to steal-which, of course, I knew. My longing had overcome my young moral sense. I’d wanted it so much, had stood there shifting my weight from foot to foot while Dawn turned the pages of a teenager’s magazine from the rack and I just ached for it.
Just like I’m aching for her now.
I watched, feeling as if time had slipped into some sort of lapse. Dawn stood, just as tall and beautiful as she’d been then, and leaned in to kiss me. My body was shaking in anticipation and although I was taller than she was now, I still felt young as she instructed me on what to do and how to do it, turning to bend over the sink again.