Mia Hill. College bound with an athletic scholarship. A go-getter with big dreams and a fully thought out plan to make sure they come true.
But with her father's release from prison looming and the inevitable stresses of adulting, everything she wa...
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My dorm. We were headed to my dorm.
And with every step it took to get here, that buzz between us only got more intense, growing legs and taking off, running with the moment that led us straight to my bed.
I'm situated on the edge of the mattress, Mia's straddling my lap. We're both half dressed at this point, each of us having shed whatever we could in those few fevered seconds between the door slamming shut and us landing right here in this spot. I'd rather be naked, but that's just me thinking with my dick.
If I'm using my other head to think about it, the one that seems to connect often these days to that pumping organ in my chest, this is way better.
It gives us a chance to slow things down, savor the moment and swap that fevered desperation for a hot, languid exploration of whatever the hell makes us feel good right now. For me, that's her. And I'm pretty sure she feels the same in return.
Going slow means we enjoy it a little more, go a little longer. Instead of charging in head first with only the concept of getting off ringing in our ears.
Yeah, I like this a lot better.
Mia grinds herself against me, moaning at the friction she's creating. I'm hard as a rock underneath her, and every concentrated move she makes has the nerve endings in my body firing off like a fucking bomb, but the soft brush of her tongue on mine keeps me grounded.
"You feel really good," she mutters into my mouth.
"So do you," I tell her, my words coming out all choked and breathy. She seems to like that because I can practically feel the smile on her lips as she shifts on top of me with some extra enthusiasm, her hands running through my hair. The sensation is a new weakness of mine, one that she created. And she fucking knows it.
Before Mia, I never let anyone touch my hair, especially not during sex. But all my rules fly out the window when I'm with her, and I've come to love the vibration her touch causes when she combs her fingertips along the top of my head. Combined with the merciless rhythm she's performing over my dick right now, only the thin material of underwear between us, and I'll be embarrassing myself in about two minutes if she doesn't cut it out.
When I sink my fingers into her hips, holding her still and keeping her from moving again, her hands pause their magic and she leans back, looking at me with a smirk on her face. "What's the problem, Gray?"
"Stop trying to make me come in my boxers, Tink."
Her laughter is a light, musical sound as she leans forward again and brings her mouth to my ear. "I like teasing you," she whispers.
"I'm aware," I say, my fingers moving to the elastic band of the sports bra she wore under my jersey. I pull it up and off of her, my eyes glued to her tits as they bounce out of the stretchy fabric. My dick twitches at the sight and I bring my hands up, palming the soft, warm flesh and letting my thumbs drift softly across her nipples.
