:Random 19:

I used to dream about my work being discussed in an English Literature course. One day a group of kids will be trying to figure out what the hell I was talking about. I’d be praised among the
Hurstons, and

But probably not. And that’s fine. I’ll keep writing anyway.

Living Room Flow – Preview

“Thank you for coming, Preston,” I said with a smirk as I walked my lover to the door. I leaned in to kiss him deeply as he stepped into the hallway. As he backed me back into my apartment, the kiss was ignited with more passion. I bit his bottom lip as he picked me up and pressed me against the wall. I felt so light in his large hands. I could still smell my pussy on his top lip. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him closer to me. There was not an inch between us, only his nine and a half.

My pale pink robe lifted around my waist as Preston pressed against me; his weight held me up against the wall in my foyer. As he tussled with his belt, I watched the way my silk robe flowed on his tattooed arms as I cradled his head and shoulders. I thought about how well he was suited for pink as he proceeded to wear my pink out. We couldn’t get enough of one another. My nipples hardened as they brushed again his chest and tears welled in my eyes as he pinned me to the wall.

Preston linked his fingers in mine and moved our hands over my head. He looked me in my soul as he continued stroking. Each stroke tapped my erogenous zone effortlessly and he received my cream as a gift. My thighs squeezed around him as I bucked to his to his rhythm. I could feel his penis throbbing as he climaxed inside of me.

Preston carried me to my couch and we laid there in silence. I was starting to feel hindered. Preston was over staying his welcome.

“Okay, love, you have to get up,” I said to him as I nudged him off of my chest.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Nothing, Preston. Don’t you think you’ve been here long enough?” I responded as I fidgeted under his gaze.

“Are we still doing this, Helena?” He said frowning.

“Doing what? You shouldn’t be here. We did what you came to do,” I was getting a little defensive.

This argument was getting rather old. When we first had sex, it was a fluke.

Preston was extremely attractive and had a great body. He’s popular and smart while I am just smart. He plays sports and is on pretty much every student interest poster.  I managed to stay invisible for my entire first year in college. The first night he and I had sex, I was drinking. I was drinking alone and I’m usually alone but this night being alone felt different and different did not feel good.

So I walked up to him and his friends and told him that I thought he was sexy. I also said that he should look past my thick black square framed glasses and ‘understand that my pussy would ensnare him like a Venus Fly Trap.’ I wince every time I replay that lapse in judgement. His friends chuckled in disbelief and I in turn grew extremely red and stormed off. Like out of a love story, he chased after. We’re both bewildered as to why he did but I’m not complaining. Here’s what I’m complaining about – he doesn’t want to date in public but at the same time, he doesn’t care if anyone sees him coming from my dorm. Does this make sense; “he doesn’t care, but he cares?”

I didn’t get it but it’s better for me to keep things strictly about sex. I had grown addicted to his fix. I couldn’t focus on anything without my daily dose but ever addiction comes at a price. He had me feeling things that neither of us were ready for me to feel. I needed to keep things casual if he wanted to continue. If no one was to know we were fooling around, then we should keep it that way. This relationship limbo was killing me. My synapses were scrambling in an attempt to remain indifferent to his presence therefore they should be no cuddling. We fuck then he is returned. Why ever is this concept so hard to grasp?

“You have to go, Preston. I have class in about,” I paused to look at my wall clock, “thirty minutes.”

“Oh I see,” he replied. “You don’t have to walk me out.”

As I started to adjust my robe, he started to kiss on my neck and worked himself down to my belly. As he kissed me, his fingers taunted my tender clit. I opened my legs to assist him as my mind resisted. I really did have class in thirty minutes, but how long would it take for those beautiful lips to bring me to climax? I grabbed a fistful of his blondish brown hair and pushed his head past my waist line.

“Good girl,” he said before his mouth enclosed my pussy. I rolled my eyes back and cried out. It was simply the act of him doing this that drove me crazy. Sometimes I would stop and ask myself why he had followed me back to my dorm that night and then I would decide that it didn’t matter. I wasn’t a virgin but I was gently used up until this point. I closed my eyes and allowed his warm mouth to silence my thoughts.

As his tongue gently swirled around my labia, his fingers slid in and out to the same rhythm. It seemed that the young man was an old professional. He hooked his arms around my thighs to prevent me from scooting backwards after my first climax. I dug my heels into the small of his back and bucked my hips back at him. He didn’t stop eating until my body went limp and I was panting.

He sat down on the floor with his penis still erect and his face covered in my orgasm. He eyes beckoned me to him and my body agreed but my mind was unsure. My body wanted him more and more but I wouldn’t move. He reach up and pulled me to the floor to join him. We laughed at the way my knees knocked and trembled before he sat me on top of him. I didn’t ride him right away. I started with kissing his neck and even the tip of his nose. I don’t know why I did that. It was far too intimate. So I reeled myself in and raised my ass to slowly slide down his shaft. Entry was always the best part to me. I like that he let me go my pace.