Brix
Pulling in front of the house, I spot Ivy’s car parked in the driveway, relieved to see she’s home. All afternoon at band practice, I couldn’t get her off my mind.
On my way back, I got this idea to take her out on a date, which is something I’ve never done. Sure, I’ve hung out with women but not with the same intentions as I have with Ivy.
After the night down by the beach, things have begun to shift between us. A part of me wants to hit stop, pull out and run, but I don’t.
Walking through the door, I search for any sign of her in the kitchen or dining room. I’m about to yell her name up the stairs when I step into the living room to find her curled up on the couch with a blanket pulled over her.
It wasn’t long ago she found me passed out in the same place. To think how much has changed since that day compared to where we are now.
Our parents are still gone on their honeymoon. They’re supposed to fly in tomorrow afternoon, which means it’s our last night alone without them dropping in for God knows how long.
Kneeling next to her, I lean in to press a kiss against her lips. Her scent engulfs me, her hair smelling like strawberries mixed with something uniquely Ivy.
For a second, I consider waking her up in some bullshit romantic way, like kissing her on her lips and whispering something like, “wake up beautiful.”
She chooses that moment to roll over onto her back, moving the blanket off her in the process. Her tank top is pulled up, exposing her tan stomach. Her shorts are rolled at the waist, making them even shorter than they already are. Her leg is bent, and all I can think about is how likely I’d be able to peel them off and taste her again without waking her right away.
Running my hand over her stomach, my eyes bounce from her face to where my hand is moving down toward her hip to the apex of her thigh. She moans slightly, and I pause, waiting for her to open her eyes and catch me. When she stops, I continue my way down, reaching the edge of her shorts. I feel her heat through the cotton of her shorts, and I bite my lip to stop myself from moaning, gliding my finger along her inner thigh up toward her pussy.
It doesn’t take me long to discover she’s not wearing any panties. The urge to wake her, bend her over my lap, and smack her ass consumes me until my finger slides over her folds into her warm, wet pussy.
“Motherfucker,” I mutter, tracing my finger along her opening.
She moans again, widening her legs more. “Actually, wouldn’t that make me a brother fucker?”
“Get your ass up, now.”
She grins, adjusting her shirt when she moves to sit up. “Don’t even dare,” I murmur, stopping her from pulling it back down, “in fact, take that shit off. Now.”
This time, the words are much more pointed. Stern.
“Yes, sir.” She giggles, standing in front of me while I recline back on the couch, watching her.
I’m not even surprised when I find not only is she not wearing underwear, she’s also without a bra, too. She looks like a fucking dream.
Her breasts jiggle as she pulls the top over her head, tossing the shirt back at me, hitting me in the face.
I’m unamused, reaching to pull the shirt away to find her with her hands on her hips, grabbing for the waistband of her pants, waiting for further instruction.
I motion with my finger to drop them, too. She licks her lips, excitement lighting her face when she slides them down her legs. I’m starting to wonder if she planned this shit when she props her leg on the cushion next to me, teasing me with her pussy.
“Now what, sir.”
“Turn,” I command. She bites down on her lip but does as I say, turning until her back faces me.
Her ass, fuck me, that ass looks so fucking good. I’m starting to run through all the ways I could take her right here and now when she does something that takes me by utter surprise.
Bending over, she presses her hands against the oak coffee table and spreads her legs open for me. She glances over her shoulder, a devilish grin lining her mouth.
I don’t even hesitate as I scoot close to her, reaching out to grab her ass cheek in my hand, spreading them before smacking her skin. The loud slap echoes around the room as she pushes her ass back toward me.
With both hands gripping her ass, I lean forward and trace the tip of my tongue from her clit all the way up to her hole.
“Holyyyy fuck,” she groans.
Dipping my tongue into her pussy, I fuck her like it’s the last thing I’ll ever do. She tosses her head back, her long, brown hair fanning over her while I hold her against me. My tongue alternates between fucking her to flicking over her clit. With each stroke, she grinds against me, seeking more, wanting more.