I unlock the front door and we stumble through like a couple of blind elephants.

“Shhh!” I hold my finger over my lips and giggle, “Keep it down.” People screaming about their houses burning to the ground are probably quieter than my loud whisper right now.

“Keep what down,” he murmurs, pinning me against the front entrance wall with his hips, “you? Is that what you like? Being held down? Or are you telling me to go down, ‘cause I can’t wait to taste you,” he kisses me and silences my explanation about what I said. In fact, after a couple of seconds of his tongue swirling against mine, like a couple of lovestruck teens dancing on prom night, I forget what I was even trying to tell him.

He steps back and sways slightly, not like he’s going to pass out, but definitely like the booze has hit him. I couldn’t keep up with him, and it took me the better part of five minutes just to unlock my front door.

Connor steps back and I grab his hand, leading him as quietly as I can down the hallway to the basement door.

“Hey, this place looks familiar,” Connor looks around and I practically drag him behind me.

“Oh yeah?” I try to sound casual, but I’ve never been a great liar. “You know these townhouses. They all look identical. If you’ve been in one, you’ve been in them all,” I clutch the doorknob in my palm and fling the door open, leading him down the stairs to my room.

“I guess,” he doesn’t sound convinced. Like I said, I’m a shit liar. At least this gives me something to be nervous about besides having my first one-night stand. I mean, obviously, I hope it’s more than that. I’m not saying I expect wedding bells and babies, just that I haven’t entirely ruled out either with Connor.

“Yeah, they’re all pretty cookie cutter,” I open my bedroom door and stumble inside with him hot on my heels. I shut the door with a click behind him and decide he needs a distraction before this turns into something more; potentially ruining our night. If he knows he’s in the same house his best friend grew up in, if he suddenly realizes who I am, this night is over. Not to mention the babies and the wedding.

“Did you really want to discuss architecture right now? Or are there better things I could be using my lips for?” I boldly step into him, looking up at him from under my heavy eyelashes and watch his eyes get a little bigger when I rub my hand over the front of his jeans.

“Mmmm, you make an excellent point,” he puts his hands on my shoulders and walks me slowly backwards across the room to my bed. “I would love to see what else that mouth can do, but on one condition,” his eyes are hazy from the booze but I can still see them twinkle.

“What’s that?” I practically purr.

“That I get to show you what my mouth can do at the same time.”

I take a final step back and my legs hit the edge of my bed. My knees buckle and I find myself sitting on my mattress with Connor’s growing bulge inches from my face.

He leans over me and quickly tugs my shirt up over my head, I don’t even understand how he gets my bra off so quickly. I don’t think even I’ve gotten it off that fast after a long day when all I want to do is toss it across the room and relax for the night. Connor leans over me and kisses me tenderly, our lips part and we explore each other’s mouths, our tongues feverishly twisting and turning against each other. I’m not entirely sure how I ended up on my back until I look down and see that Connor is making quick work of helping me out of my pants. When I’m stripped down to nothing but my lace panties, he pauses. I watch Connor’s green eyes travel over the fringe of my underwear, like under them is the Christmas present he’s been waiting all year for. He looks almost reverent as he lightly brushes his finger over the baby blue lace.

“You look like a piece of art, you know that? I can’t decide if I’m supposed to admire you or fuck you,” his fingertips travel over my pussy and I groan.

“Really?” I really do whisper this time, I never expected Connor to be so sweet and so tender.

“Of course not. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re fucking spectacular. Men start wars over women like you, but there’s no confusion,” he digs his fingertips in around the hem of my panties and twists them up in his palm. I can feel the fabric stretch tight around my hips and he twists harder. The seams explode over my skin, leaving me completely bare as Connor tosses my ripped panties to the floor. “I’m going to fuck you,” he growls.

He yanks his own shirt off and I’m distracted by the collage of tattoos etched into his skin. I’m transfixed as he frees himself from his pants, then his underwear, completely drawn in by the symbols and colors. That is, until I see his cock swaying in front of me.

Holy shit.

I literally gulp as my eyes travel over his veiny girth. I lick my lips as I study every inch of him, and there are a lot of them, all the way down and back up to the belled curve of his cockhead.

I’m frozen to the spot. Completely unable to move. Half of me wants to leap across this bed and try to take as much of him into my mouth as I can. The other half is overwhelmed with uncertainty and shyness. It isn’t only the fact that I’ve never had a one-night stand before, I just haven’t had that much sex before either. I’ve done it with all of one guy. And even then, it was a long-term relationship. This is all new to me.

Why are you fighting what you want? This has been your dream forever. Do you really want to sit here and overanalyze your life right now? Or do you want to make your deepest fantasy come alive?

Just like my architecture question I asked Connor earlier, it’s a no-brainer.

I sit on my haunches and wrap my hands around Connor’s thick dick. Both of them. Opening my lips wide, I take the tip of him in my mouth. He groans and rolls his head back. I slide him into my mouth further when he pulls back.

“Lie down,” he demands.

“What? I thought you wanted me to…” my fuzzy brain can’t make sense of what he’s asking.

“I do, I do,” he answers my unasked question. “Lie down on the bed and hang your head over the edge. I want to eat you out while you suck my cock.”

We ain’t in Kansas anymore. My last boyfriend, the only guy I’ve ever slept with was about as vanilla as they come. I mean, I was a virgin when I met him and I was bored. Any time I suggested something even slightly different than our usual missionary routine, he got angry and cold. Honestly, I think my “crazy” suggestions of oral sex and doggie style were the main reasons he left.

Not that I give a fuck about any of that now. I obey Connor and turn around on the bed, lying across it, I hang my head over the side and breathe in sharply when he hovers over me, dragging his tongue over my breasts and over my tummy to my pussy.

I grab his cock, again with two hands, and guide it in my mouth over my tongue. Connor’s mouth kisses a trail to my pussy and his tongue immediately delves between my lips, finding my clit quickly.

“Mmmm,” I moan against his cock and he pushes it into my mouth deeper. I hollow my cheeks, sucking on him and trying to concentrate on his pleasure as much as possible, but when he grabs my thighs and presses them open and begins battering my clit with his wet, warm tongue, I’m done for.

I’ve never felt anything like the insane intensity building up inside me now. I try to meet his mouth, raising my quivering hips toward him, but Connor pushes my legs against the bed and owns the moment.

I don’t know if it’s the booze or a head rush from how I’m lying, but my eyes get fuzzy and I feel a little dizzy as my body tenses up, every muscle tight. Connor’s tongue never stops teasing me, tasting me, twisting against my clit unrelentingly. He’s on a mission. A mission to make me cum. And he’s going to succeed.

A wave that felt like it had been building up inside me, taller and wider, suddenly crashes down. I’m drowning in ecstasy. I’m being tossed around in a wild undercurrent of bliss and I don’t know which way is up or down.

“Oh.My.Fuck! Connor. Oh God!” I cry out as little tremors run through my limbs and make my thick thighs quake with pleasure.

Connor pulls out of my mouth, not that I was doing a great job of keeping up, and smirks down at me. “You like that, sweetheart?”

“Like, is not the right word,” I realize I’m panting. The sensation is descending now, but there’s no part of my body it didn’t overwhelm.

“Good, ‘cause we got all night, and I’m just getting started,” his green eyes twinkle as he smiles.