Big girls do it wetter, p.2
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       Big Girls Do It Wetter, p.2

         Part #2 of Big Girls Do It series by Jasinda Wilder
 
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  I might have managed it if I stood up, but that wasn't happening. Plus, this was fun.

  I twisted my hips to the side. "Please? I'll be more comfortable."

  Jeff's jaw tightened, and one hand curled into a clenched fist before he uprooted himself and knelt beside me. His hand reached out, hovered over the zipper just above the swell of my backside. His eyes locked on mine; he wasn't afraid, or nervous, but I couldn't decipher the emotion in his eyes. Desire? Hesitation? Longing?

  He took the zipper with precision, not so much as brushing the fabric, and drew it down, eyes riveted on my face.

  He's proving something to me, I realized. He won't touch me since I'm drunk.

  When the zipper was at the bottom, I lifted my hips and he tugged the stretchy black fabric down, gripping near my legs where there was enough loose cotton to allow him to not touch me. The skirt slipped over my hips and he drew it off my feet, folded it and set on the floor by my boots. He stood up, facing away from me.

  Oh no you don't, I thought. He wasn't going to get away with not so much as looking at me.

  "Jeff?"

  "Hmmm?" He stopped and grunted the question without turning around.

  "I'm thirsty." And I was, all of a sudden. Positively parched.

  His shoulders slumped and he shook his head. He filled a glass with water and brought it to me, keeping his eyes downcast until he reached the couch. His eyes met mine, flicked away, and then back.

  When I'd gotten dressed, all I could find clean was a slinky purple thong, so that's what I was wearing. It barely covered me, even in front. I certainly hadn't had Jeff in mind when I'd put it on, but now I was grateful.

  His eyes moved down to my low-cut T-shirt, which had hiked up to bunch just beneath my breasts, and down to my hips and legs.

  "Goddamn, Anna. You're not making this easy on me."

  "I'm not making what easy?" I asked.

  "Being a gentleman."

  "What if I don't want you to be a gentleman?"

  Jeff closed his eyes and let out a long breath. "You're drunk."

  "A little bit."

  I kept my eyes on his and let him look. He fought it still, trying to focus on my eyes, but at last he gave in and let his gaze rove down my body, lingering on the miniscule patch of purple silk between the narrow V of my thighs. He turned away, at last.

  "Such a gentleman," I said, taking the glass from him and sitting up to drink it.

  "I'm trying," he said, "but you're not making it easy. "

  "Sorry," I said, but my tone of voice implied otherwise.

  Jeff smirked. "No you're not. You're just being difficult. Teasing me."

  I faked a hurt look. "Me? A tease? Never." I smiled sweetly, all innocence. "I always follow through."

  Jeff's eyes narrowed, and his hands twitched at his sides, as if trying to keep them from touching me.

  "If you're playing a game with me, Anna, I swear, I'll never talk to you again. I mean it."

  "I'm not playing a game. I promise." I finished the glass of water and set it on the coffee table before lying back down on the couch.

  I only posed for Jeff a little bit.

  He closed his eyes briefly before crouching next to me and drawing the blanket over my hips. His knuckles brushed along my skin from knee to hip bone, an electric spark crackling between us at the contact. I wanted him to run his hand up my leg, but he didn't. He seemed to think about it, though.

  "Good night, Anna." He rose and went to his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

  *

  When I woke up, head pounding and stomach roiling, Jeff had a full breakfast spread out, eggs sunny-side up, bacon, toast, orange juice, coffee. I visited the bathroom, then meandered out to the kitchen.

  "Thought you might be hungry." Jeff was sitting at his table, a round thing barely big enough for two people.

  I slipped into the chair across from him, still basically naked from the waist down. The table was clear glass, and his gaze fell from my face to my legs. I pretended not to notice and dug in to the food, which was simple and delicious.

  "Thanks for breakfast," I said.

  "Welcome," Jeff grunted.

  He got up and dug around in a cabinet, found a bottle of Aspirin and gave me two.

  "And thanks for taking care of me last night," I added, swallowing the Aspirin gratefully.

  Jeff shrugged, uncomfortable. "That's what friends are for, I guess."

  He drummed a rhythm on the glass with two fingers. I set my hand on his, just rested mine on top, at first. When he glanced up at me in surprise, I slipped mine beneath his. His palm was warm and calloused on my hand, and he looked from our hands to my eyes, and back.

  His eyes burned into mine, questioning.

  "Is that all we are?" I asked. "Just friends?"

  Jeff looked our hands again. "Well, it's all we have been." His eyes flicked up to mine. "Till now." It was almost a question, but not quite.

  "Until now," I agreed.

  I wasn't sure what this was, or where it was going, but I wanted to see. Jeff had been my friend for a long time, keeping his feelings for me on the down low, never letting them interfere. He'd never tried anything, never asked me out, never told me he liked me, or tried to seduce me. We'd gotten drunk together on a number of occasions, but he'd always been a perfect gentleman, just like last night. Only, last night I'd finally seen a glimpse of his desire for me.

  So then, how did I know what he felt for me? The little things. A look he would give me while setting up, meeting my gaze for a few beats too long, a wistful gleam in his eyes. The way he'd never let me do anything too hard, keeping all the heavy lifting for himself. Fending off drunks and keeping losers from hitting on me.

  I looked at him, at the slope of his shoulders and the tension in his eyes. He was waiting for this to end, for me to tell him we'd just be friends. He'd never tried anything with me, but he wanted to.

  "Jeff? Can I ask you something?"

  "You just did, didn't you?" He smirked, that rare little expression of humor.

  "You know what I meant." He lifted a shoulder, and I plunged ahead. "Why haven't you ever tried anything? As more than friends I mean?"

  A long silence, and then a shrug of one shoulder. It wasn't even an answer, but somehow there was a wealth of expression in it. The shrug seemed to mean hidden fear, worry of rejection, a whole slew of things he could and would never say aloud, or even admit to himself in so many words.

  "You never know until you try, right?"

  Jeff opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. After a deep breath, he tried again. "I didn't mean what I said last night, but I do have to know. Why now?"

  "Sometimes...you just wake up one day and see what's always been there."

  "I guess." He threaded his fingers through mine, a gesture of finally giving in to hope.

  He seemed about to say something else, but he shook his head, drew his hand out of mine and stood up.

  "I'm gonna take a shower. I won't be long," he said, and then he was gone.

  I heard the bathroom door closing and the shower start, and I was left sitting alone, wondering why he'd pulled away. He'd seemed on the verge of something, but had swerved aside.

  I knew he wanted me, I'd seen that last night. So...maybe it was up to me? Maybe he wouldn't believe I actually wanted him unless I showed him, in no uncertain terms.

  Why shouldn't I go after him? His hand brushing my leg had been electric, thrilling. What would sex be like? Even more electrifying, likely.

  There's only one way to find out.

  My body was moving before my brain was aware of the decision being made. At some point, my shirt ended up on the floor, leaving me clad only in a front-clasp bra and thong.

  The bathroom door was unlocked. My heart was pitter-pattering in my chest as I entered the steam-clouded bathroom. His shower door was clear glass, fogged by steam but still translucent enough to show me his body, thick and heavily muscled. His manhood was limp an
d pointing down; from what I could see, it would be enormously thick. I wanted a better, closer look. I wanted to touch, to taste. Desire was pooling in my belly, and it wasn't only for release, for relief from the sexual frustration raging through me, but for Jeff, for the man I'd worked with for so long, knew so well, but didn't know at all, in some ways.

  He heard the door creak open. "Damn it, Anna. I'm in the shower."

  "I like the way you say that. So irritated, but still affectionate. 'Damn it, Anna.' "

  "What are you doing in here? I'll be done soon."

  He wasn't turning away, but wasn't moving to open the door either. I crossed the tiny bathroom in one step, slid the stall door open. He was beautiful, in his own way. His body wasn't sculpted, but it was still hugely muscled, his arms as thick as my thighs, his stomach not flat, but slightly rounded and hard as a boulder. His legs were massive, thighs like ancient oak trees.

  His cock twitched at the sight of me. His thick, short brown hair was pasted to his head as water sluiced onto his shoulders and poured down his body. I stood and let him look, taking in the view of his body, my tongue running over my lower lip in appreciation for his physique.

  "I'm sober. You don't need to be a gentleman this time."

  "Why?" He was still fighting the urge to stare.

  "Does it matter?"

  "Yes. It does to me."

  My legs were being spattered by the shower. I waited for him to move, thinking about his question. Why now?

  "I guess I just realized what I wanted. I don't know." His eyes were raking my body now, lingering on my breasts; I stepped closer, nearly in the shower now. "That's the best answer I can give you right now. I don't know."

  "What do you want, then?" He hadn't moved toward me, but he looked like he was on the verge of it.

  "You," the word came out of me in a whisper.

  "Me." He shuffled forward a half-step, his hand lifting for me. "You're sure? This is a line we can't uncross."

  I just nodded and took a deep breath, swelling my breasts in my bra. Jeff was semi-rigid now, pointing straight forward. I let myself look, let him see me looking. He rested one hand on my waist at first, a hesitant questing touch. I moved closer, and his body blocked the spray of water. He was hardening with every passing moment. I kept my hands at my sides.

  Both of his hands were on the concave curve of my waist now and sliding up, rivulets of hot water dripping down my sides. Up farther, then, closer to my breasts. He met my eyes, still hesitating.

  "I'm not going to change my mind." I unclasped my bra and set it aside. "Touch me."

  He was fully erect now, and I couldn't help comparing him to Chase, just for a moment. He wasn't as long as Chase, but he was thicker, and perfectly straight, whereas Chase had been slightly curved.

  I wanted to take him in my hands, but I kept still, waiting for Jeff's hands to finish their upward journey and heft my breasts in his large hands.

  "Don't play me, Anna." His voice was low and husky, his hands stopped on my ribcage.

  "Oh for god's sake." I closed the gap between us and pressed my lips to his.

  He was startled, frozen for a moment, then he softened into the kiss and dipped his tongue past my teeth. His kiss was gentle, achingly tender for such a hard, gruff man. His calloused palms caught the undersides of my tits and cupped them. His murmur of pleasure buzzed against my sternum. I put my hands on his shoulders and ran them down his back to curl around his hard round ass. At my touch to his backside, Jeff pressed into me, crushing his erect shaft between us.

  I stepped back, pushed Jeff into the shower and stripped off my thong before joining him in the shower. Now I touched his cock for the first time, wrapping one hand around him, slicking a thumb across his bulbous, leaking tip.

  Oh my sweet lord, I thought, clutching his cock with greedy hunger, he's huge. SO thick. He would fill me, and then some.

  He rumbled again, one corner of his mouth tipping up in a smile, his eyes half-closed. My hair was still in a pony tail, and I tugged it free, letting the stream of scalding water wet my hair against my scalp and neck. Jeff ran his hands across my face, brushing sopping strands of hair away from my face, and down the back of my head. His hand rested on the nape of my neck and pulled me into a kiss. My hand was still fisted around his thickness, and I kept enough distance between our hips to allow myself room for stroking. He was at once soft and hard, a skin of silk around a core of steel.

  My breathing was turning to sighing gasps as I felt him throb in my fist, felt his hips pump him into my hand. His fingers found my nipples, hard and sensitive, sending zaps of arousal thrilling through my body. One hand kept toying with my nipple, and the other circled my waist to clutch my ass, caressing, digging into the muscle and flesh, caressing again, spanning the crease to grasp the other cheek.

  All this with the delicious heat of the water dousing us, wrapping us in warmth.

  "I can't believe you're here in my shower with me," Jeff said.

  "Me neither," I said, "but there's nowhere else I'd rather be."

  "You're sexy." Jeff's fingers descended the plain of my belly to skim over the hillock of my pussy as he spoke, stroking the entrance with a single finger. "So goddamn sexy. Come for me, Anna."

  I leaned back against the wall and out of the stream of water, spreading my thighs apart to allow him access. He was the perfect height to take me like this.

  "Make me," I told him.

  He didn't answer, just pressed his lips to the mound of one breast, lapped his tongue down the wet surface to flick against the taut bead of my nipple. I pressed my palm against his iron-hard neck, pushing his mouth deeper around my breast. His other finger continued the teasing exploration of my pussy, tracing the lines of the labia, tickling the crease between my leg and hip, dipping in between my thighs to streak across my perineum.

  He penetrated me at last, one gentle, questing finger into my aching channel. I clenched my buttocks and arched my hips forward, and he skinned the inner walls with his finger before pulling out to furrow against the nub of my clit. I gasped as he touched me there, eyes closed and whispering "yes" with an inbreath. Two fingers then, slipping back in and exploring my pussy, retreating out, grazing my clit, and then three fingers.

  My hips were moving, my hands gripping his cock as a handle, holding on to him as I pushed into his fingers. Pressure was rising, now, magma welling in my belly, surging up to ready for a volcanic eruption. His fingers stoked the heat, one finger in, curling to slash across my G-spot, eliciting a moan that echoed in the shower. Two fingers again, pulling out of my pussy to dovetail around my clit, pinching it, slipping back and forth.

  His other hand was busy with my breasts, pinching and rolling my nipples, teeth now nipping the rippled skin of my areola, tongue laving the sides and across my chest and ribcage.

  Finally he set a rhythm, three fingers diving in and back out, pressing onto my clit with every stroke. One small quiver in my belly at first, a buckle of the knees into his upstroke. My hands, slipping up and down on his manhood now, slow pumps around his swollen, straining head.

  Another stutter, lower down, a swelling tremor pushed into a rolling waveform. Jeff sped the rhythm of his fingers' plunge, billowing the heaving of my hips into a desperate gyration. Then he slowed, just before the upwelling explosion overtook me.

  "Faster, please, faster," I breathed.

  He complied, surging faster, biting my nipples and using both hands on me now, two fingers circling my nub, three fingers diving in. My hips were moving on their own now, pulsing upward. My hands worked his shaft in time with my hips' motion, and then...

  Every muscle buckled and tensed as my long-pent orgasm finally coursed through me, a rocketing surge of heat and ecstasy in my belly, pussy muscles clamping around his frenzied fingers, his mouth on my neck and lips and tits, my feet lifting me up and dropping me down.

  "Inside," I gasped. "I need you...inside me."

  "Don't have protection," he breathed ag
ainst my breast.

  "On...pill," I said. I couldn't form full sentences.

  Jeff's arms curled up around my ass, and then one hand lifted my leg by the knee. I guided him into me, leaning into his body, the shower spray, growing lukewarm now, blasting against my neck and the top of his head. He pulsed into me, a slow, careful thrust.

  "Goddamn, Anna. You're so tight."

  I opened my mouth to tell him it was just because he was so huge, but he thrust again and I could only gasp, breathless, as my pussy stretched to fit him. My labia formed an 'O' of taut-stretched flesh, burning and throbbing so wonderfully, my orgasm still pounding through me, constricting my inner muscles around his thick, slick member.

  His thrusts timed with the contracting pulsations of my orgasm.

  "Oh god, Jeff, yes..." I scraped the words past rasping vocal chords.

  Every fiber of my being quivered; my eyelids fluttered, my thighs trembled, my fingers clawed down his broad back, my toes curled in, my breath caught on an inbreath and held; a plunge, and I came again, riding the crest of the last explosion, another plunge, and I came again, clutching to Jeff with all my waning strength.

  He never sped his thrusts, held himself to slow, measured pushes, going deeper with each one.

  "Anna." He grated my name past clenched teeth as he came, thrusting hard and deep to the rhythm of my name. Two syllables, a full thrust inward on the initial emphasis, our hips bumping together on the 'N', retreating on the outbreath 'A'.

  I felt his seed hit my inner walls, felt him throb within me as he continued to come, and come and come, lips crushed to my shoulder. He held my leg firm around his hip all the while, pulled on my knee for leverage, his free hand roaming my torso, breast to belly and back up, fingering my hypersenstive nipples.

  The water was going cold now, and he finally let my leg down and pulled out of me. I shut the water off and pulled him against me, curling into his heat, our damp skin sticking together, our breathing matched gasps.

  He moved away first, pulled a thick white towel from a rack and spread it open, drew me out of the shower. What he did next made my breath hitch. He scrubbed every inch of my body with the towel, beginning with my shoulders and moving down my back, across my belly, around each breast, my arms and sides, then my buttocks and thighs, down my legs and back up. The last thing he did was gently spread my thighs apart and clean my tender folds, wiping carefully downward and in to clean me of his still-leaking essence, his touch featherlight and almost reverent.

 
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