He Had a Girlfriend

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He had a girlfriend. I knew it was wrong. He knew it was wrong. But he was in another country, on holiday. What happens on holiday stays on holiday, right? That was what I kept telling myself.

At first I had thought it was all in my head. He had mentioned something about me to one of my friends a few days beforehand, something about me being cool and easy to talk to. He might have even used the word ‘hot’ but I’m not expecting much. I had met him a week before, he knew one of my friends so was staying at their place for a few weeks while he explored Sydney. We were at my friend’s house, Ben, and were playing drinking games. The game was Never Have I Ever, one I remember playing when I was just beginning to sexually experiment, but now seemed a little childish. It was Ben’s turn.

“Never have I ever kissed a girl,” he said, then instantly took a swig of his drink. We each took turns glancing around the circle to see who was sipping their drink, whether obviously or slyly. I took a sip of mine. Most people knew about my brush with bisexuality, but he had just looked at me, one eyebrow raised, a hint of a smile on his lips. I couldn’t help watching the way his mouth curved around the top of the bottle and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down after swallowing. I had had a few drinks by then, having played King’s Cup beforehand, so I excused myself to go to the bathroom, wobbling a bit as a stood up and the alcohol rushed to my head.

I knew I had to break the seal at some point and since none of us were planning on going anywhere for the rest of the night I knew I would have reasonable access to a bathroom whenever the alcohol decided to rip through me.

As I came out of the bathroom I was passing the kitchen and saw him standing there, leaning against the bench, drink in hand, one leg crossed over the other as though waiting.

“What you doing?” I asked casually, trying to control the small butterfly that had decided to start flittering in my tummy.

“Nothing,” he said, just as casually. I shrugged and went to the fridge, getting my next bottle of wine out. It was the cheapest kind, but I was determined that my wine always stay in a bottle, I wouldn’t stray to the goon sack. It was a rose, with a nice amount of berries. I had had it before and liked it, so it was lucky I was able to find it again.

I opened it, savouring the sound as the seal scraped open.

“What’s that?” I heard him ask, coming up behind me. I could feel his body heat on my back, a bit of a shock with the coolness of the fridge on my front. I turned around.

“Rose,” I said, showing him the label. “It’s pretty nice.” I took a swig and offered him some. He took the bottle from me and sipped it. His eyes never left mine, which left me feeling funny. I could feel my nipples harden slightly, although that could have something to do with the fact I was still standing in the path of the fridge.

“Yeah, it’s alright,” he said, handing it back. He was still standing in front of me, blocking off my way to the door.

“We should probably get back,” I said, motioning past him. He ignored me, instead seemed to focus on my hair.

“Are your curls natural?” he asked, bringing a hand up to cup one of my curls in his hand. His hand brushed my neck and ear lobe ever so gently, but enough to raise goosebumps on my arms.

“Yep,” I replied proudly, ignoring what my body obviously wanted me to do.

“They’re really nice,” he said. “I hate it when girls do all those fake curls, does not look nice at all.” I laughed, I knew plenty of girls like that.

“What type of hair does your girlfriend have?” I said, unable to help myself. His eyes narrowed slightly but a smile played about his lips. He didn’t answer for a while, seeming to truly think about it.

“Well, it’s not as nice as yours, I’ll tell you that much.” I nodded and pushed past him. I felt a hand encircle my wrist, holding me back. I looked at his hand then back up at him, questioning him with my eyes.

“We’ve been having some problems lately,” he admitted. He genuinely looked upset, his shoulders had sagged and he didn’t seem anywhere near as cocky as he had been this past week. He looked a little vulnerable.

“Why?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he replied, letting go of ataşehir escort my wrist and jumping up onto the kitchen counter. I guessed this was going to be a long chat. I didn’t really want to talk about the girlfriend of the guy I had a crush on, but sensed he needed to talk so I jumped up next to him.

“It started just after I booked my ticket to come here. She hates the fact that she’s back in Rhode Island, doing her normal stuff while I’m in Australia, living it up. It also doesn’t help that I’ll be gone for at least four months.” He paused, as though wondering if I would say something. When I didn’t he pressed on.

“She just kept talking about how I was going to cheat on her, meet someone knew, blah blah blah. She’s very insecure, we only ever do missionary, and she always asks me how she looks. I knew all this before I started dating her, but she was also really bubbly and fun. The bubbliness and fun are wearing thin now though, I don’t think I want to be with her anymore.”

I didn’t know what to say. Of course I wanted to shout at him that he should break up with her if he wasn’t happy, but I felt that was too selfish on my part. I only wanted him to do that so I could have a go at him. I bit my tongue and offered him the bottle of wine instead.

He smiled and accepted it gratefully, taking a huge gulp. A bit dribbled down his chin, through his stubble, and I fought the urge to wipe it off.

“Anyway,” he said. “Enough of me depressing you. What about you and boys? I bet you’re fighting them off with a stick.”

“Ha!” I exclaimed. “Hardly. Honestly, I’ve never really had anything proper with anyone. It’s more been flings and things like that. But no one on the horizon at the moment.”

“No one?” he asked and I felt him squidge a little closer to me. His hand was behind me and I felt it touch my back.

“I don’t know,” I said, not knowing what to do. My conscience was screaming at me to leave him alone, to run into the other room, to barricade my pussy with a chastity belt. But the other part of my brain, the one that Freud calls the Id, the pleasure principle was beginning to overrule my subconscious.

I felt the exact moment it was squashed when he leaned in and placed his lips softly against mine. They were warm and full and tasted a little like beer and wine. His eyes delved into mine when we broke apart. My mouth was still open, still a little shocked as what had just happened. I knew he was a bit full of himself, but I hadn’t expected him to be quite so brazen, especially after just telling me about his girlfriend.

“Still no one?” he whispered. I could feel his warm breath near my mouth. I couldn’t take it. Fuck the girlfriend. Fuck my morals. I blame Freud and his Id factor. I leaned forward this time and our lips met quickly and forcefully. His hand came up and cupped my face. Without breaking our tongues I felt him jump down from the counter and move himself between my legs. I had to turn my face downwards slightly to reach his lips. My arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer. His hands were on my thighs, rubbing up and down them slowly. I felt them head up my thighs and suddenly one was between my legs, softly stroking my jeans. My pussy began to pulse, my body responding to his touch. His other hand came around my back, slipping under the back of my shirt to softly stroke my lower back. His fingers were cool, leaving a trail of goosebumps wherever he touched.

I moved my hands down from his shoulders to his back, feeling muscles contract the more I touched them. His lips left mine suddenly and my mouth felt cold. I opened my eyes, wondering where he’d gone but soon realised when he began devouring my neck. I arched my back a little, throwing my head back. He kissed my neck, collarbone, moving his way slowly down to the v in my t-shirt.

In the background I heard the toilet flush and instantly I was cold as he had sprung away from me. Just in time too as Sarah, one of my mates, walked into the kitchen to grab another beer from the fridge.

“What you guys doing?” she asked, looking at us a little suspiciously. I don’t blame her. I know I was slightly flushed, breathing deeply, trying to control my emotions and when I looked at him he had moved his hands so they covered kadıköy escort bayan his groin.

“Nothing,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“I should probably get to bed soon anyway, I’m getting pretty sleepy.” Sarah narrowed her eyes looking confused while he eyed me incredulously. In their silence I took it as my cue to leave. I walked past them both, back out into the corridor and into Sarah’s room. I was staying in her room that night. She had a double bed we had planned to share.

I lay on her bed and closed my eyes. I heard the door open and shut.

“You okay?” Sarah asked me, sitting down next to where I was laying.

“Yeah,” I said. “Think I’ve just had too much to drink. Everything’s spinning. I just need to lie down for a bit then I should be fine.”

“Alright, you sure?”

“Yeah. Thanks for checking on me though.” Sarah patted my back then I felt the bed move as she stood up, the door opening and closing again.

I breathed deeply. I was not drunk, the room wasn’t spinning. I was just trying to ward off the onslaught of emotions that were coursing through me. My pussy was still throbbing, wanting to be touched again. There was no sin in myself touching it.

I closed my eyes, assuming position, and slowly slid my hand downwards. The first touch of my clit had me spasm, it was that sensitive already. I was already perfectly wet, my fingers moving in slow circles. As much as I didn’t want to I pictured his face, the way his lips had felt on mine and how his fingers had wanted to explore deeper than the outside of my jeans. I rubbed faster, biting my lip to try and stop moaning. My head lashed to the side as I came closer, but suddenly everything was abandoned when I heard the door open and close. I pulled my hand out of jeans quickly, trying to resume the sleeping position. The room was silent. I was sure I had heard the door. I opened my eyes and glanced up, but couldn’t see anyone. Very strange.

Oh well, I slid my hand back into my jeans and continued on my merry way to Mount Orgasm. God, it just felt so good. Back and forth over my clitoris, picturing his face in my mind and what he could do to me. I moaned slightly, the noise piercing the silence around me. I hoped no one had heard from the lounge room. As I was on the brink my neck and back arched involuntarily, making my hand press firmer to my clit. In one last circle my orgasm washed through me, I could feel it reach into my legs, all the way to my toes as they slowly curled. I gasped and held my breath, feeling it everywhere, before sagging back on to the bed, panting slightly.

“That was so hot,” a voice said suddenly.

“What the fuck?” I gasped, pulling my hand out my pants and turning on the light beside the bed. The one I was picturing in my head was sitting in a chair on the other side of the room, for God knows how long.

“Sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “But when you disappeared with the ridiculous excuse for bed I had to see what you were doing, whether you were actually sleeping. Turns out I was right in what I was thinking.”

“And you were just watching me?” I asked, incredulous, bringing my knees up to my chest. I suddenly felt vulnerable. I barely knew this guy and he had already seen me in my most intimate position. He shrugged.

“It was hot,” he repeated. “I liked it.” I narrowed my eyes, not sure what to say.

“Thanks, I guess.” He eyed me thoughtfully.

“Would you mind if I tried doing that to you?” he asked, his eyes never leaving my face. I was confused for a second.

“You want to make me orgasm?” I asked, not sure if that’s what he had meant. Turns out it was as he nodded.

“May I?” he asked again.

“Um,” I replied, a bit lost for words. Who asked whether they could make someone orgasm? It was a bit of a weird approach, but I must admit it was making me pretty turned on.

“Okay, I guess,” I said eventually. He stood up and sat down next to me on the bed. I watched him, not really sure what I was supposed to do. Lie back and wait for him to get me off? Seemed a bit formal and expectant. He leaned forward and kissed me, bringing his hands to either side of my head, a very tender position. He gently pushed me back into the mattress, my head on pillows escort maltepe while he rolled on top of me, supporting himself with his forearms. I opened my legs a little and felt him sink between them as he continued kissing me.

Bringing himself up to one elbow he moved his other hand to my jeans, undoing the button and fly with one hand. He pushed one hand inside my jeans, massaging my cleft with his hand. I closed my eyes, it felt good. Abruptly he sat up, tearing his mouth away from mine. His hands moved down to my butt, lifting it up slightly and yanking my jeans and panties off. I was suddenly cold and a little self-conscious. He came back on top of me, his lips touching mine again. I could feel his hard bulge beneath his jeans, rubbing softly against my pussy and felt my body respond. His lips left mine, searching down my neck to my collar bone, right down to my breasts. He pushed my bra aside, attacking my nipples. As he was encircling them with his tongue his other hand moved down my side, coming to my thigh where he grabbed under my knee and hooked my leg up over his shoulder.

His mouth travelled to my navel, pushing my top up so his tongue could touch gently inside my belly button. He hooked my other leg over his shoulders and his mouth finally met what I had been waiting for. The first circle had my cry out. I was so sensitive it almost hurt. I was wet from my own orgasm before and my clit was still recovering. He gripped my hips, pulling me down the bed slightly so he could devour more. He sucked, licked and nibbled, my hands grasping the bedspread tighter with each movement. My hips began rocking against his tongue, my own body’s way of getting me to orgasm. For a few seconds he held his tongue in place while I moved against it, but when he started to trace his tongue to meet me harder at my thrusts had me cry out again.

The grip he had on my hips was starting to hurt a little, but it was nothing compared to what was happening below my waist. His tongue moved faster and faster, his lips touching me softly, a stark contrast to the powerful piece of meat in his mouth. I knew I was close, but didn’t realise how close until I came suddenly and unexpectedly. I shuddered, my hips bucking slightly against his mouth. My pussy spasmed uncontrollably and he continued to lick my clit, prolonging my orgasm. Depleted I fell back against the pillows, eyes closed, breathing heavily.

“Fucking hell,” I whispered. My head felt light, fluffy, I couldn’t think straight. He came up to lay down next to me, pushing my top up so he could softly rub my tummy. It felt wonderful and made me want to go to sleep. He leaned down and kissed my lips, turning me over slightly so he was spooning me. He pulled me back into his chest, his arm thrown over me, slightly touching my breast. It felt like a deliberate accident and when I moved back a little I could feel his hardness touch my butt. I reached my hand back, finding what I wanted.

I rubbed a little on the outside of his jeans, but then couldn’t take it and shoved my hand inside. He felt wonderful. So hard and thick. His hand moved from my breast now as I felt him lift himself up slightly to pull his jeans down. He sprang free and I felt it fall between my cheeks. I sat up quickly and pulled my bra and top off, flinging them to the other side of the room then lay back down and let him spoon me. His hand came back onto my breast, massaging it, making my nipples stand to attention. I moved my hand back between us, gripping on to him and sliding all the way up his length. I lifted my leg and hooked it back over his hip. I felt the tip of him at my entrance and he seemed to hesitate. I shuffled backwards slightly and guided him into me. It hurt a little as I was stretched, but once I got used to it, it felt glorious.

Once he was inside me I moved my hand in front of me to support myself and his hand moved from my breast to my hip, pulling be back to meet his every thrust. It felt so good how deep he was inside me. He kept hitting me at the soft spot on my front wall as I felt his chest vibrate slightly with his deep, throaty moan. He began to move faster, almost grunting slightly with every thrust. I threw my arm back over his neck, making a fist in his hair as his mouth found the nape of my neck and slowly bit it. He came in a rush, shuddering violently behind me, before rolling out of me and collapsing beside me. I collapsed beside him and he turned to grin at me.

“That was fucking incredible,” he said. I smiled back, panting slightly. “Can we do that again tomorrow?”

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