Hey, sorry this chapter took a little longer to get written. It's mostly smut, and I've not really been in the mood recently. I've been pretty depressed as of late, so I do want to write a lot, but not necessarily these kinds of scenes. This one turned out pretty good though, just took a few days. I hope to update the next sections more frequently, thanks for your support as usual. These ** will be around smut.
"Are you two... previously acquainted?" Keith asked as Mr. Grant and I stared each other down.
"Uh, yeah, this is my English teacher." I still hadn't decided if it was in my best interest to announce this was the guy who gave me such crap over the length of school skirt. It would probably end with Paul puffing out his chest and tell him off, which would be undeniably satisfying, but then he might get overprotective, keep me by his side, which I did not want. I think. No, I didn't because I wanted to spend the night with Keith and Anita, so the reveal of 'Henry's' identity could wait until after the party.
Keith reached out a hand for Mr. Grant to shake, and I couldn't help but notice how pale and manicured my teacher's hand was. He definitely came from money. "Good to meet you," Keith said.
"The pleasure's mine, I'm sure."
My two companions gave nauseated smiles before dragging me off to sit on the couch. "What a prick," Anita whispered. "He'll probably ask for an autograph later."
"Why would Paul even invite him?" Keith asked.
"He's Denny's cousin," I explained
This elicited a derisive snort from Keith. "Who gives a shit? I don't think I've spoken to a single cousin in the past five years; they'd probably just ask for money."
"Let's not talk about him, or Paul, let's talk about Lola." Anita poked at my belly which had bunched up a bit since I sat down. "I love this top, and you have the perfect body for it. Do you starve yourself to be this beautiful." I shook my head, giggling at the idea that my body was anything above passable. "You just wake up looking like this." She looked across me at Keith. "To be a teenager again, eh?"
"I don't really want to be a teenager; I'd rather be inside one."
The problem with showing so much skin was that there was more space that could turn pink when I blushed, which I definitely did at Keith's words. I wanted him so bad, it felt like there were hot embers in the bottom of my stomach heating the rest of my body into a ravenous fever.
"Do you think they'll miss us?" he asked, nodding towards Paul and Linda who were chatting with a few people I didn't know (they weren't on the list of guests I'd been given yesterday).
I shook my head. "Doubt it."
"Can you hold down the fort, love?" Keith asked his girlfriend. Anita puffed out her lower lip, pouting. "Don't worry, Lola will visit us very soon at our flat where we have privacy. You know you're a screamer."
She nodded in agreement and gestured for us to go on without her. Keith took my hand and dragged me off to the kitchen. In my peripherals, I could see Paul watching us, but he didn't make a move to follow, so I didn't pay it any mind. He could never be mine, not in whole, or in part, so there was no choice but to sever the connection. Keith, on the other hand, could split himself between Anita and me and likely other women the way a normal person might divvy up slices of a tangerine. Paul was a fantasy, Keith was real.
"This is my room," I said, pushing open the door. It was like I'd never been to this place before. Had the bed always been so soft looking? The room was a cool blue, illuminated just slightly by the city light coming in through the slits in the blinds. Keith's unique scent- a mix of pot, cigarettes, denim that hadn't been washed in a while, and something else I couldn't place- cleared out any hint of Brandon or Paul, or even me. This was his room now.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered in my ear before biting on the lobe, kissing down my neck.
There was no rush, we could stand there and kiss as long as we wanted, his hand moving over my arms and back and chest. **Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, so I reached down to undo his belt buckle. He let me, of course, and took off his leather jacket while I went. I reached my hand down the front of his pants, feeling his erection through his briefs.
He pulled away, kicked his shoes off, dropped his pants, fell onto his back onto my bed, and started wanking himself. "Take off your clothes." It wasn't a command, it was an invitation, once I was happy to acquiesce to.
I stood at the foot of the bed and pulled my top over my head, my hair falling to my shoulders, crackling with static electricity. Then my shorts, even though there wasn't really a sexy way to do that. I just stood there for a while, examining his face, the way he watched me. Paul made love to me unwillingly. Brandon did it naively. But Keith wanted me, he desired me, and he would give me all the pleasure he could in return. Taking a deep breath, I unhooked my bra and then removed my panties.
When I went for my thigh-highs, he said, "Leave those on."
I nodded, smiling, and put my hands on the edge of the bed, as though I were testing my weight. Then I crawled towards him, his cock getting bigger the closer I got to it. Once I was near enough that he could feel my breath on him, he let go of it, his hands lacing behind his head. I took him into my mouth, hoping I was doing what he liked. I wanted him to feel good, and whenever he saw me, I wanted him to remember how I made him feel.
He was a much quieter partner than I was used to. When he didn't audibly respond to any of my ministrations, I tried putting his whole cock down my throat, the way Paul did, causing me to gag.
"Woah there," he said, touching my face. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, sorry, I just wanted to do something you would like."
"I like everything you're doing."
"You aren't making a lot of sounds," I said, swirling my tongue around his head a few times.
He ran his fingers through my hair, pushing it back from my face. "Well, your family's right downstairs." He used his hand to guide the pace of my mouth. "And I never make too much noise anyway; I like to show my appreciation with my actions."
"Oh." I went to tuck my hair behind my ear before remembering I was wearing pigtails. "How do you do that."
"Come here," he said, beckoning with two fingers. Once I was close enough for him to reach me, he lifted me up so I was on my knees with one leg on either side of his head. At first, I felt embarrassed. What if I looked weird or smelled or didn't taste good. But after a few seconds of his tongue on my clit. It became difficult to concentrate on my task, let alone my insecurities. After a few minutes, I could do little more than jerk him off with shaky hands.
As the pressure between my legs started to build past the point of no return, I detached myself from him, almost regretfully.
"Is something wrong?" Keith asked. He didn't sound insecure, just curious. How refreshing.
"I want to cum with you inside me," I whispered, before climbing on top of him and inserting his cock into me.
His eyes rolled back into his head as I rocked back and forth, hands on his chest to help keep my balance. I liked the way his chest hair felt between my fingers, how the muscles shifted just beneath this skin. Now that he was shirtless, I could see the telltale marks of a heroin user, but it didn't scare me, it intrigued me, even endeared me to him. He must know suffering too.
With firm but gentle hands, he guided my hips up and down, doing much of the work for me. "How does that feel?" he asked.
"Amazing." I'd never done this with Brandon. I was only ever on top of him for a few kisses before he flipped me over so that I was pinned underneathe him; that was the only way he could make love. I think he felt too open and vulnerable if I was in control.
But not Keith. He seemed to love watching me ride him, enjoyed laying back and letting me do what felt good. And it was fucking spectacular. I'd never orgasmed with a dick inside me, the penetration always feeling more invasive than stimulating, but from this position, it was like heaven. If anything felt the slightest bit off, if his cock was going in at a bit of an off angle, I merely adjusted and then continued. The climax started in a different place, not from my clitoris, but a spot deeper inside. It took longer to cultivate into something effective, but when it reached me, it climbed all the way into my throat, making my vision go cloudy with stars.
When I was done, I collapsed forward, my bare breasts pressed flat against him, his arms encircling my waist, fingers splayed over my back. He truly did have the callouses of a coal miner.
"Sorry," I breathed into his ear, embarassed that I'd cum so intensly, and before him too.
He took my head in his hands and pulled it up so we were face to face. "Never say you're sorry to me, about anything. It's a waste of that beautiful mouth."
With that, he gripped me by the underside of my upper thigh (just above my socks), one hand cradling the back of my neck, and flipped us so I was beneath him. When Brandon did this, it was awkward, clunky, almost painful, but Keith performed the action with such grace that I barely felt myself touch back down to the mattress. As slim as he was, he still possessed incredible strength.
With just another minute of thrusts, he finished inside of me, kissing my neck as he moaned throatily, "Oh God Lola, fuck me." He laced his fingers through mine, pressing my hands above my head. I wrapped my legs around his waist, seeking to bring us even closer together. **He didn't roll off me, and I didn't want him to; the pressure of his body on top of mine was like the heavy blankets they give you when you go into shock. "You're mine now, you know that?" he whispered. "You are mine and I am yours."
I didn't respond, I just kissed him. That was my answer.