Off Season II

His hand slides under my shirt. His palm is warm against my stomach.

I tense. My muscles clench. I can feel every inch of his hand. "Mmmm"

"Relax," he says against my neck.

"I can't—"

"Yes you can."

His hand moves up. Slow. His fingers trace my ribs. One by one. I count them in my head. One. Two. Three. His thumb finds the underwire of my bra.

"Jake—"

"Shh."

His thumb traces the edge of my bra. My skin burns where he touches. I can feel my nipples tightening. Hardening.

"Do you feel that?" he asks.

"Feel what?"

"The way your body responds. The way your skin heats up."

I nod. I can't speak. My throat is too tight.

His fingers find the clasp of my bra. He unclips it. The sound is loud in the quiet kitchen. Snick. The fabric loosens. My breasts shift.

"Lift your arms," he says.

I do. He pulls my shirt off. My bra follows. The air hits my skin. Cold. My nipples tighten further.

"Look at you," he breathes. "So fucking beautiful."

He looks at me. Just looks. His eyes travel down my body. My neck. My collarbone. My breasts. My stomach. I feel his gaze like a touch.

My hands come up to cover myself.

"Don't," he says. "Don't hide from me."

"You're staring," I slightly turn my head to the side as the reality kicks in. I am naked.

"Because I want to remember this."

His hand suddenly cups my breast. His palm is rough. Warm. I can feel every callus. His thumb strokes my nipple. Once. Twice.

"Uff-" I gasp. My back arches. I can't help it. My body is betraying me.

"Does that feel good?"

I nod.

"Tell me."

"Yes..," I whisper. "It feels good…."

His thumb circles my nipple. Slow. Deliberate. I feel the sensation travel down my spine. Pool in my belly.

"Your skin," he says. "So soft. So warm."

He leans down. His mouth replaces his hand. Hot and wet. His tongue flicks my nipple.

My fingers find his hair. I grip it. I can't help it.

"Jake—"

"Your nipple," he murmurs. "It's so hard. So pink."

His teeth graze. Gentle. Barely there.

I gasp. "Oh—"

"You like that."

"Mhmm."

He sucks. Soft at first. Then harder. I feel the pull in my core. My knees weaken. I grab his shoulders.

"I can't—"

"Can't what?"

"Can't stand."

He pulls me to the counter. Lifts me onto it. The granite is cold against my bare thighs. I can feel the goosebumps forming.

"Spread your legs," he says.

I hesitate looking straight at his eyes.

"Jake, I—"

"Trust me."

I spread them.

He stands between them. His hands on my thighs. His lips on my neck.

"I've wanted this," he says. "For five years."

"Jake—"

"Every time I saw you. Every Thanksgiving. Every Christmas. Every summer barbecue."

His fingers find the button of my jeans. Unbutton. Slow.

"Your hands," I whisper. "They're shaking."

"Because I'm nervous."

"You?"

"Because this is you."

He pulls down my zipper. Slow. Tooth by tooth.

"This is happening," he says. "And I want to remember every second."

My jeans are loose. He hooks his fingers in them. Pulls them down.

"I'll lift," I say.

"Don't. I want to do it."

He slides them down my legs. Slow. My underwear follows. I'm bare. Spread open. On Mine and Marcus’ kitchen counter.

"You're soaked" he breathes raggedy.

"Jake—"

"Look at you. So fucking wet. And I haven't even touched you yet."

His fingers touch me. Just touch. The tips of his fingers against my folds.

"Arghh-" I flinch. My thighs clenches.

"Don't close your legs," he says.

"I can't help it—"

"Yes you can. Open for me."

I open.

His finger traces me. My outer lips. My inner lips. Soft circles. I feel everything. Every ridge. Every fold. Every sensitive spot.

"You're so soft," he says. "So warm."

I feel myself getting wetter. I'm embarrassed. I can feel the wetness pooling, my liquid trickling out of me and unto the kitchen counter.

"Jake, I'm—"

"Shh."

His finger finds my entrance. Presses. Just the tip.

"Jake-" I gasp. My hips buckle towards him.

"Please—"

"Please what?"

"Please put it in."

"Where?"

"Inside me. Please."

He pushes in. One finger. Slow.

I feel every millimeter. The stretch. The fullness. The way my pussy clenches tight around him.

"Oh—"

"Feel that? Feel how tight you are?"

"Mhm."

He moves his finger. In and out. Slow. I can hear the squelching wet sound. I'm so embarrassed I could die.

"How does it feel?" he asks.

"Full…," I whisper. "So full..."

"And your body?"

"I'm—I'm hot. Everywhere. My skin—"

"Keep going."

"Your finger. Inside me. Agh. Curling—"

He curls it.

"Ah—right there—"

"Right where?"

"There. Fuck..that spot. Please do that again."

He does. In and out. Curling.

Squelch. Squelch. The sound fills the kitchen.

I feel the pressure building. My hips move, buckling without my permission, chasing something.

"You're so wet," he says. "So ready."

"Jake— I need—"

"Tell me what you need Angel."

"Another finger. Please. I need more."

He pushes in a second finger. Slow. I stretch around him. I feel the burn. The fullness.

"Fuck—" I gasp.

"Shh. Breathe."

I breathe. In. Out. I feel the pressure. The stretch.

"How does that feel?"

"Tight. So tight. But good. So good."

"You're so beautiful like this."

He thrusts faster. In and out. Harder. I came barely hold it. "Fuck.."

It doesn’t stop him. He thrusts his finger in and out faster. He uses his other hand to hold my entrance.

"Jake!, " i almost scream out loud. "I think— I feel—"

"What do you feel?"

"I think I'm going to come—"

"Not yet."

"Please—"

"Not yet. I want to feel you come on my tongue."

He violently pulls his fingers out. "Argh!,", I try to muffle scream as he pulls out of my wall. My body aches. I'm so close. I feel empty. Desperate.

He drops to his knees.

"Jake—"

"I told you," he says. "I'm going to taste you."

His hands find my thighs. Spreading me.

"Look at me," he says.

I look down. His eyes meet mine.

"Don't look away," he says.

His tongue touches me.

A single lick. Soft.

Slurp.

My hips jump. I feel everything. The wet heat of his tongue. The gentle pressure.

"Oofff—"

"You're so wet. So fucking sweet."

He licks me again. Slurp. Slower. His tongue parting me. I feel every stroke.

"Your tongue," I gasp. "I can feel everything."

"Tell me."

"Your tongue. On my clit. Circling—"

"You like that?"

"Yes. God yes."

His tongue flicks faster. Slurp. Slurp. Slurp. His lips close around me. Sucking.

"Jake—I'm—I'm close—"

"Look at me."

I look down. He's watching me. His eyes dark.

"Now. Come for me," he says. "Let me taste you."

I come.

Slow at first. Building. Then the wave hits me

"Jake….". I cry out — his name — my body spasms. I feel myself pulsing against his tongue.

He doesn't stop. He licks me through it. Holds me through it.

"Good girl," he murmurs. "So fucking beautiful mmm."

I collapse against the counter. Shaking. Breathless. My legs are weak. My whole body is trembling.

He is still between my tigh. Sucking. Swallowing my extra juices as it gushes out.

He finally stands. His lips wet. His eyes dark.

"Now," he says. "My turn."

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