Part 34 (2/2)

”Is it much more comfortable than this one?” She thumped the narrow coffin-bed, which was surprisingly comfortable, adjustable, heated, and ma.s.saging.

He snorted. ”OK, I sleep on a futon on the floor back home, but it's the principle of the thing. I just miss home, I guess.”

”So go home for a couple days after this stop, or the next one. Charge up your batteries and do your laundry. But I have a feeling that home is going to be your suitcase pretty soon, Perry my dear.” Her voice was thick with sleep, her eyes heavy-lidded and bleary.

”You're probably right.” He yawned as he spoke. ”h.e.l.l, I know you're right. You're a real smarty.”

”And I'm too tired to go home,” she said, ”so I'm a smarty who's staying with you.”

He was suddenly wide awake, his heart thumping. ”Um, OK,” he said, trying to sound casual.

He turned back the sheets, then, standing facing into the cramped corner, took off his jeans and shoes and socks, climbing in between the sheets in his underwear and tee. There were undressing noises -- exquisite ones -- and then she slithered in behind him, snuggled up against him. With a jolt, he realized that her bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s were pressed to his back. Her arm came around him and rested on his stomach, which jumped like a spring uncoiling. He felt certain his erection was emitting a faint cherry-red glow. Her breath was on his neck.

He thought about casually rolling onto his back so that he could kiss her, but remembered her admonition that they would not be having s.e.x. Her fingertips traced small circles on his stomach. Each time they grazed his navel, his stomach did a flip.

He was totally awake now, and when her lips very softly -- so softly he barely felt it -- brushed against the base of his skull, he let out a soft moan. Her lips returned, and then her teeth, worrying at the tendons at the back of his neck with increasing roughness, an exquisite pain-pleasure that was electric. He was panting, her hand was flat on his stomach now, gripping him. His erection strained toward it.

Her hips ground against him and she moved her mouth toward his ear, nipping at it, the tip of her tongue touching the whorls there. Her hand was on the move now, sliding over his ribs, her fingertips at his nipple, softly and then harder, giving it an abrupt hard pinch that had some fingernail in it, like a bite from little teeth. He yelped and she giggled in his ear, sending s.h.i.+vers up his spine.

He reached back behind him awkwardly and put his hand on her a.s.s, discovering that she was bare there, too. It was wide and hard, foam rubber over steel, and he kneaded it, digging his fingers in. She groaned in his ear and tugged him onto his back.

As soon as his shoulders. .h.i.t the narrow bed, she was on him, her elbows on his biceps, pinning him down, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s in his face, fragrant and soft. Her hot, bare crotch ground against his underwear. He bit at her t.i.ts, hard little bites that made her gasp. He found a stiff nipple and sucked it into his mouth, beating at it with his tongue. She pressed her crotch harder against his, hissed something that might have been *yesssss*.

She straightened up so that she was straddling him and looking imperiously down on him. Her braids swung before her. Her eyes were exultant. Her face was set in an expression of fierce concentration as she rocked on him.

He dug his fingers into her a.s.s again, all the way around, so that they brushed against her l.a.b.i.a, her a.s.shole. He pulled at her, dragging her up her body, tugging her v.a.g.i.n.a toward his mouth. Once she saw what he was after, she knee-walked up the bed in three or four quick steps and then she was on his face. Her smell and her taste and her texture and temperature filled his senses, blotting out the room, blotting out introspection, blotting out everything except for the sweet urgency.

He sucked at her l.a.b.i.a before slipping his tongue up her length, letting it tickle her a.s.s, her opening, her c.l.i.t. In response, she ground against him, planting her opening over his mouth and he tongue-f.u.c.ked her in hard, fast strokes. She reached back and took hold of his c.o.c.k, slipping her small, strong hand under the waistband of his boxers and curling it around his rigid shaft, pumping vigorously.

He moaned into her p.u.s.s.y and that set her shuddering. Now he had her c.l.i.t sucked into his mouth and he was lapping at its engorged length with short strokes. Her thighs were clamped over his ears, but he could still make out her cries, timed with the shuddering of her thighs, the spasmodic grip on his c.o.c.k.

Abruptly she rolled off of him and the world came back. They hadn't kissed yet. They hadn't said a word. She lay beside him, half on top of him, shuddering and making kittenish sounds. He kissed her softly, then more forcefully. She bit at his lips and his tongue, sucking it into her mouth and chewing at it while her fingernails raked his back.

Her breathing became more regular and she tugged at the waistband of his boxers. He got the message and yanked them off, his c.o.c.k springing free and rocking slightly, twitching in time with his pulse. She smiled a cat-ate-the-canary grin and went to work kissing his neck, his chest -- hard bites on his nipples that made him yelp and arch his back -- his stomach, his hips, his p.u.b.es, his thighs. The teasing was excruciating and exquisite. Her juices dried on his face, the smell caught in his nose, refres.h.i.+ng his eros with every breath.

Her tongue lapped eagerly at his b.a.l.l.s like a cat with a saucer of milk. Long, slow strokes, over his sack, over the skin between his b.a.l.l.s and his thighs, over his perineum, tickling his a.s.s as he'd tickled hers. She pulled back and spat out a p.u.b.e and laughed and dove back in, sucking softly at his sack, then, in one swift motion, taking his c.o.c.k to the hilt.

He shouted and then moaned and her head bobbed furiously along the length of his shaft, her hand squeezing his b.a.l.l.s. It took only moments before he dug his hands hard into the mattress and groaned through clenched teeth and fired spasm after spasm down her throat, her nose in his p.u.b.es, his c.o.c.k down her throat to the base. She refused to let him go, swirling her tongue over the head while he was still super-sensitive, making him grunt and twitch and buck involuntarily, all the while her hand caressing his b.a.l.l.s, rubbing at his prostate over the spot between his b.a.l.l.s and his a.s.s.

Finally she worked her way back up his body licking her lips and kissing as she went.

”h.e.l.lo,” she said as she buried her face in his throat.

”Wow,” he said.

”So if you're going to be able to live in the moment and have no regrets, this is a pretty good place to start. It'd be a h.e.l.l of a shock if we saw each other twice in the next year -- are we going to be able to be friends when we do? Will the fact that I f.u.c.ked your brains out make things awkward?”

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