High Expectations Ch. 02

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Did I want to see his cock? I did. But that was just weird, right? He just waited for me to answer. He was always much more patient than I was. He did sway a bit, reminding me that he was drunk and wouldn’t remember any of this.

“Yes, I do want to see your cock.”

He grinned and undid his button. He lowered his fly and slid his pants down. He wasn’t even wearing boxers. It wasn’t hard, but it wasn’t soft either. Back in high school, my friends referred to this state as a “semi.”

He looked down at me and grabbed his cock, rubbing it up and down. It grew bigger and bigger as he played with it.

I was still sitting on the floor and my vagina, or my pussy, was feeling funny all over again. Now, I recognized it as arousal. I had to shift my weight and felt the top of my thighs and how wet they were. I hadn’t worn panties to bed, I never did. Now I wished I had. When I stood up, he might see it. And I didn’t want to risk that.

He stopped tugging on it and looked down at me. “So? Do you like it?”

“Yes,” bursa escort I said. “I do.”

He laughed. I blushed.

“Why are you laughing?” I demanded.

“I’m sorry, Sis,” he said. “You just look funny sitting there like a little kid staring up at me and my junk.”

He stopped laughing and walked closer to me. He put his hand on the side of my head and tilted it so he could look at me more closely. I tried to turn away but he held me still.

“Look, I’m sorry. I really am. Don’t be mad at me.”

I shrugged. “Fine. I’m not mad.”

He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. His cock was only inches away from me. I wanted to open my mouth and pull it in, but I didn’t let myself do that.

He backed up and took hold of it again. “Do you still like it?”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Yes, I still like it.”

“Do you want to watch me?”

“I am watching you.”

“I mean, do you want to watch me come?”

Come. malatya escort I’d read “Fifty Shades.” I wasn’t a total moron about the idea of sex. And I’d had it shot down my throat before. I still felt nauseated whenever I thought about it.

“I don’t like it down my throat,” I said.

“Um, no, I was going to just… Well, I guess you would call it masturbate.”

He was blushing now.

“Oh. Well… Okay.”

He started rubbing it faster and faster. He held himself up with one hand against the doorjamb and closed his eyes. He rocked back and forth and started making grunting noises. His breath sped up and he started to pant.

My thighs were now very wet. I reached down and touched my pussy. I slid my fingers in just an inch or so then rubbed my clitoris. I rubbed it in time to his movements.

He gasped and let out a low moan. His cock pumped out his come. Most of it fell to the ground, but one particularly strong jet of it landed çanakkale escort in my hair. And I didn’t care.

I rubbed myself and gave my clitoris a little squeeze. I started to pant, too. I came hard. My thighs were more wet than ever.

We both took slow, deep breaths. He looked at me in silence. Finally he said, “I need to go to bed. I… I didn’t mean… I mean, I’m sorry that I…”

I cut him off. “Don’t be sorry. I liked it. I liked watching you play with your cock.”

“And I liked watching you play with your pussy.”

“Maybe…”

“Maybe what?” he said, his voice low and husky.

“Maybe we can… Do it again?”

“Maybe,” he said. He swayed again and I remembered that he was drunk. He would have no memory of this.

He pulled up his pants and walked away, back to his own room. I went into the bathroom and stared at my reflection. The little bit of come was shiny in my hair. I slid my hand down and pulled most of it off. I used the toilet and used the hand towel to wipe up the mess on the floor.

I went back to bed and stared at the ceiling. I put my hand over my nose, smelling his come. I put it over my mouth and tasted it.

It was salty.

But it wasn’t bad.

I fell asleep thinking about his cock. I was almost sad that he wouldn’t remember our night.

Or would he?