Dak
“I’ll text Nikki to let her know I’m not coming home.”
Trace gets her phone and taps out a message. The responding message comes back almost before Trace is finished sending hers. She sends another, and another lightning speed response chirps back. I’m sure Nikki is warning her to stay away from all of us asshole hockey players. Ever since her and Dalt had a falling out, she’s not too keen on hanging out with any of us. Trace sends one more message and doesn’t get any response so I guess she’s convinced Nikki it’s cool. Or it’s possible Nikki is on her way over here to beat down our door and rescue her friend.
Except I’m not sure it’s her friend who needs rescuing. I don’t know how it happened. Trace has gotten under my skin and inside my mind to the point I can’t think about anything but her. She’s turned my world upside down and inside out. The way she responded to my touch was incredible.
She seemed cool with everything. In fact, she was so responsive, I almost came without even removing my pants. That’s never happened to me before. I’ve never wanted a girl the way I want her. I’m still so rock hard I don’t know how I’m going to keep my mind on Bio data.
Now that I know what she’s dealing with, I want to take things slow. I want to make sure everything is right for her, make sure we don’t do anything she’ll regret later. But fuck, when I see her sitting there in my shirt and remember she’s naked underneath it, my cock throbs. I keep reminding him we’re trying to do the right thing here. He’s not happy.
I resume my position leaning against the headboard.
Holy fuck!
Trace leans her back against the footboard, pointing her legs in my direction. She bends her knees and props her computer on them, like she’s completely unaware of what she’s doing to me. My t-shirt is long enough not to be able to see anything, but I know she’s panty-free, since I’m the one who slid the tiny strip of lace down her long, silky legs. My mind is making its own enticing images inside my head. If she spreads her knees and shows me that luscious pussy, I’m done. There will be no Marine Bio work going on in this room tonight, only human bio of marathon proportions.
I’m thankful, sort of, that she keeps her knees clamped together and I manage to keep my eyes fixed on my computer screen. During the tedious process of recording data, she moves up to my end of the bed and slouches down so her head is resting on a pillow while she types in info. We succeed in getting our project done by two a.m.
“That’s it.” I shut down my computer and yawn loudly.
“I’m beat. Thank goodness we don’t have to get up at four. Oh man, it’s almost that time already.” She grimaces after checking the time on her computer screen before shutting it down and placing it on the floor next to the bed.
“You staying or you want me to walk you home?” Technically, Trace lives close enough to walk her home, but we’re both zonked and I can’t think of anything I want more than to hold her in my arms while we sleep.
And again, when the fuck did that happen? I normally don’t want chicks to stay the night and the girls I hook up with are fine with that. It can get too complicated in the morning. But with Trace, I want to take her in my arms and hold her for as long as she’ll let me.
“If it’s okay, I’ll stay.” She yawns and stretches like a tired little kitten. And there goes my cock again, informing me it’s more than okay if she stays. I’m so fucked when it comes to this girl. Every move she makes and every sound escaping her lips sends all my blood flow between my legs. “I’m too tired to walk home. I’m almost too tired to get up and brush my teeth,” she says and nestles into the bedcovers.
“The bathroom’s right there if you want to use it. There’s some new toothbrushes in the second drawer.” I point to the door leading into my private bathroom. Being the captain of the team had its advantages when it came to choosing bedrooms.
“Thanks. Be right back.” Trace scoots off the bed and picks up her backpack to take with her into the bathroom. I hear the shower water running.
I get up and get a pair of gray sweatpants off the back of my desk chair. When I slip off my jeans and boxers, I can almost hear my frustrated cock breathe a sigh of relief.
A few minutes later the shower turns off and Trace steps out of the bathroom. The room fills with her signature scent of citrus and coconut and I’m intoxicated. She has my shirt on again and her hair is knotted on top of her head in a messy bun. “I took a shower. Hope it’s okay.” She pulls the elastic from her hair, flips her head over, and shakes out her hair. When she stands again, her long waves fall past her breasts. My breath catches. She’s so fucking beautiful. I stand there staring at her, wondering what I did to deserve this gorgeous, mind-blowing woman standing in my bedroom.
“Don’t wait for me,” I say pointing to the bed. “I know you’re tired. I’m going to use the bathroom.” I drop my hands in front of me to try to hide the half-mast working its way back up.
“Okay,” she says through another yawn and makes her way over to the bed.
I decide to take a quick shower too. I already took one after practice, but…well…Trace is in my bed. Even though I’m only in the bathroom for a few minutes, when I come back out she’s making the sweet little sleeping noises she made the night before at the lighthouse. She’s snuggled under the covers, curled up on her side. After pulling on a pair of sweatpants, I turn off the lantern and climb into bed, trying to be quiet enough not to wake her. She’s already in such a deep sleep she doesn’t stir. I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling wondering, again, how I got so lucky. Exhaustion overtakes my thoughts and it isn’t long before I drift off to sleep.
***
I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep before the stroking of a tongue brushes across one of my nipples. I can’t hold back the sound of a growl coming from the back of my throat. Reaching down, I run my fingers through the silky waves of Trace’s hair which are spilling across my chest. Somehow I managed to become the luckiest motherfucker on the planet. Trace is running her tongue down my abs. Christ. She slips her fingers into the waist of my sweatpants and tugs.
“Trace? What are you doing, baby?” I ask in a thick-tongued voice. I want to make sure she’s awake and completely aware of what’s going on this time.
“I want to taste you,” she whispers, looking up at me with those big round eyes. Jesus Christ. Maybe it’s me who’s dreaming.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”
Yeah. I’m pretty sure this girl will never do anything she doesn’t want to do again. And at this moment what she wants is to slide off my sweatpants. I lift up and let her pull them down my legs and over my feet. My cock springs up in front of her face and when she licks her lips, I don’t think it’s possible to get bigger or harder than I am right now.
I’ve had plenty of blowjobs in the past couple of years, but when Trace looks at me like she’s about to devour me, I become Thor, Superman, Hercules, and any other superhero I’m assuming has a superpower dick.
Fuck. I want her. I want to bury myself deep inside her. But she’s studying my dick like it’s the most luscious treat she’s ever seen and I intend on becoming her all-night candy shop.
“Wow,” she says, and sucks in her bottom lip. She’s doing the nervous chewing thing again.
“It’s okay, babe. Like I said. You don’t have to—”
“It’s so big.” She runs her fingers down my shaft. Oh fuck. I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.
“Uh. Thank you?” I grunt.
I may not be Thor, but I can’t complain. I’ve been somewhat blessed in that department. It’s not the first time a girl has given me the acknowledgement. However, after resisting my craving for Trace for so long, I’m not sure I can handle much more admiration of my assets before I go off. And then she bends her head down and licks the drop of pre-cum off the head of my dick.
“Fuck. Tracey,” I groan. She wraps her hand around my shaft and takes me in her mouth, an inch at a time, like she’s testing to see how much of it will fit.
When I reach the back of her throat, she starts sucking and moving her tongue in ways I never felt before. I fist my fingers through her hair to direct her where I want her. But she needs no direction. She takes a long lick, from the sensitive spot at the base of my cock to under the tip of my head, like she knows all the most sensitive spots to get me crazy. Then she starts licking and sucking like I’m her own personal candy cane while her hand works up and down and around my moistened cock.
“Jesus. Fuck. Trace. It’s so good…so good.”
She starts making these sounds like I’m the most delicious thing she’s ever had in her mouth. Normally I can go for a while with a chick’s lips around me and her tongue working me. But this is Trace, and I’ve been doing some serious prohibition for a while now, holding myself back from her. Not to mention the way she’s working me feels like nothing I ever felt before. I can’t hold back another minute.
“Trace, I’m gonna come.” The gravelly words push out from deep in my core. I try to pull out of her mouth but she holds on to me like a kid fighting for her favorite lollipop.
Her sucking intensifies, gets faster and harder, and I explode into the back of her throat, groaning “Trace,” “fuck,” and some prayers of thanks. The whole time she keeps me in her mouth, swallowing every drop and moaning like she’s the one getting all the pleasure.
When she finally sits back, she licks her lips like she doesn’t want to waste one drop.
“Mmmm. You taste so good.”
Holy fuck. I swear, that gesture, and the sight of her sweet, flushed face is making me hard again.
“Fuck, Trace.”
“Was it okay?” she asks as she crawls up over my body and then rolls on to her side to face me.
“Okay? That was…it was…there isn’t a word invented yet.” I turn toward her and brush my lips against hers. She tastes like a mixture of salt and peppermint. Like me, I guess.
“But it was good?” she asks me again like it was a test and she needs to know her grade.
“Incredible,” I whisper and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Good.” Her voice drifts off into a slur, and her eyes flutter closed.
I never saw a girl fall asleep so fast after a mind-blowing orgasm, even if it’s one she gave instead of received. Then again I have never been with any girl like Trace. There are so many versions of her: the shy and insecure Trace, the feisty and strong Trace, and now I discover the sex-goddess of the universe Trace. At the moment, that one’s my favorite. I’m beginning to think that when I’m done being her friend with healing benefits, Trace Hayward is going to be a tough act to follow.