Eighteen: 18

I take in a deep breath through my nose and start playing with my clit. Small, slow circles at first. I don’t think I can come the way he wants, but I’ll do anything he asks right now. I concentrate on his dick—licking it, sucking it, and waiting for that grip on my hair that says I’m doing it right.

“Make yourself come,” he reminds me.

I reach down farther and insert a finger inside me, probing deeper and deeper each time I take his cock inside me farther.

He moans.

I gush.

“Fuck,” he growls.

I swallow, feeling the tip of his cock in the back of my throat, and this time I get another hand gripping my hair.

“Mmmm,” I hum again, only now I’m doing it because I’m turned on and not because I’m satisfying him.

He moves my head now, forward and back, a little harder, a little more forcefully with each pass. I fuck myself with my fingers with more enthusiasm too, unable to stop the momentum we’re building.

My hands go to his hips to steady myself and then they are tugging his jeans down farther. I let them drop to his knees and stroke the muscles along the back of his thighs.

“I love that,” he says.

My hands slide upward, my mouth still fucking him in long strokes. Saliva pools in my cheeks and then drips out over my lips.

He moans again and thrusts his hips forward.

I almost gag, my hands tighten on the curves of his ass, but he pulls back at just the right moment and long strands of saliva dangle until they drop onto my bare legs.

“Come, Shannon,” he whispers.

My hand goes back to my thoroughly wet pussy and I begin to stroke. His cock begins to twitch inside my mouth, and then he pulls all the way out and kneels down in front of me. Kissing me on the mouth.

“I want to come down your throat, but I want you to come at the same time.” He kisses me again and my tongue can’t get enough of him. We tangle together like that for a few seconds, and then he stands back up, taking my silence and enthusiasm as permission.

I stroke myself, wanting all of this more than I’d like to admit. My head begins to spin, my eyes close, and then he pumps his cock into my mouth like he’s really fucking me.

I have never given a blow job like this before. It’s so much more than I ever knew was possible. His hands fist my hair so hard my scalp begins to burn, his cock reaching deeper and deeper inside me with each thrust. The saliva drips out of my mouth, my throat makes gurgling sounds and my fingers furiously stroke myself.

I feel the warmth of his come as he shoots it into my mouth and I slip two fingers inside myself just as my pussy contracts and my own come begins to drip down until it tickles my wrist.

“Swallow,” he says. “Swallow me, Shannon.”

I do. Holy fuck, I want every drop of him. I look up into his eyes and he bites his lip and then throws his head back, pumping one last time.

I fall to my ass and lean back until I’m resting on the floor, gasping, exhausted, and wanting desperately to lie down somewhere comfortable as Mateo kicks off his jeans and boxers and steps away from them.

“I’m gonna stay here on the floor and fall asleep,” I say.

He laughs. “We’re not done yet. I’m not even close to done yet.” He scoops me up into his arms and carries me towards the front door.

“What are you—”

“Shhh,” he chastises me. “Be quiet and trust me.”

He opens the door to the front porch. It’s screened in on all sides and it’s just about dusk.

“Mateo—”

“Shannon,” he growls. “Quiet. No one can see us.”

I find that hard to believe. I can see several people from where we stand. One is across the busy street—some lady doing gardening. The neighbor to the left is out, talking to the high-school kid who must live next door. And there’s an older woman a couple houses down with a dog on a leash.

“If you’re quiet, they’ll never know that I’m fucking you on the front porch, just a few feet away.”

“You’re crazy,” I say.

“Not really,” he says. “Just adventurous.” He sits down on a leather couch, placing me in his lap so we’re facing each other. “Did you have fun inside?”

I nod, still feeling the throbbing from my orgasm. I want more. I am dying for more.

“Put my cock inside you.”

I lift up my hips and find his wet tip. I rub it along my clit a few times, burying my head into his neck from the sensations. And then I place him at my entrance and ease down.

“Oh, fuck,” I say, as he stretches me wide.

“Fuck me,” Mateo says. “Fuck me the way you like it so I know how to do it next time.”

I forget about the people all around us. I forget about everything. How old he is, how much more experienced he is, how much trouble I will be in if people find out, what they’ll call me. I throw it all away because the only thing I have room for is the way he makes me feel.

I place my hands on his shoulders, gripping his hard muscles, and ease up and down so slowly it makes him grimace.

“Slow, then?” he asks.

I nod into his neck, my teeth nipping at his skin, my hands desperate to bring him closer to me. His finger finds my ass, probing the tight entrance just enough to drive me wild.

“Ohhhh,” I moan.

“Shhh,” he says. “We can be loud inside, but when we fuck out here, we will be quiet.” He whispers that so close to my ear, it vibrates through my whole body. The only part I care about is the promise of more.

I want more.

So I ease down, and up, and down and up. I get a rhythm going, my hips moving forward as I press his cock inside me so I can rub my clit against his shaft. Our breath becomes heavy and mine turns into uncontrollable panting.

“Come,” he whispers in my ear. “Come on my dick.”

I can’t help myself. Even if I wanted to wait, I can’t. I lean my head into his neck, my fingernails grip his shoulders so hard he growls, and I bite his ear—moaning, and moaning, and moaning so only he can hear me.

We sit there like that until I can feel his come slipping out of me. “We didn’t use a condom,” I say.

“We don’t need one,” he says back. “I found your pills in your room last week.”

Chapter Sixteen

He doesn’t give me any time to question him about that statement, because he says, “Lie on me, Shannon,” as he rearranges us so we are lying back along the couch and I’m on top of his chest.

I give off a huge sigh.

“Tired?” he asks, dragging a long strand of my hair up and down my back.

“Relaxed,” I say.

And then we go quiet. Our breathing evens out and I listen to his heartbeat get slower and slower and if he wasn’t still tickling my back with my own hair, I’d be convinced he was asleep.

“Will you come back here on Friday?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Do you think you don’t?”

I do, I realize. I could’ve walked out at any point today. I could’ve stopped this before it got started if I wanted to. But I don’t want to. “I’ll come back.”

“We’re really not going to fuck again until you pass a test.”