"Nameless" Preview 2
Book #1 PRC
"Nameless"
By L.G. Flores
(Continued from Preview 1)
“You thinking?”
I shake my head but speak anyway. “I’m just follow the leader, and rolling along myself.”
“Do you want to go back to the bed and pick up where we left off?
“I got to think about it.” Saying it quite pensive in my face for duality.
He takes me by the hand and pulls me to sit on the edge on my bed with him next to me. We’re sitting and sitting. Where’s the build up to tonsil hockey? He reclines back and rests his head under one of the throw pillows. I twist to see what he just did. Should I take this as an invitation to lie back as well?
F*ck it.
I lay on my side, pulling in my knees, being vulnerable fetal and I scoot in close. He has his eyes covered by his scally, hands folded over his belly. I pull his scally off his head and put it on mine. He sits up and does it again.
He tilts it a bit down and to the side. Pulls back to examine and says “Now you look decent.”
It’s a running gag, that’s pretty cool. He sees my soft brown waves of curls, cascading through the bottom of his cover. Then I do something strange. I unsnap the top two buttons of my shirt showing a glimpse of contrast from my vibrant teal colored bra to my black, Wally World, western Johnny Cash shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He’s seen more of my milky white skin and the colors permanently inked in to my chest. The shirt would still be on, completely closed up to the point I can still breathe… but it’s open. Will Mikey slide in to second or is he exiled to blue balls Gilligan’s Island?
I’m thinking to myself we’re starting to strip even if nothing has technically come off. My shirt was opened exposing me first and he’s getting to know the pale skin I cover to the rest of the world. He’s guiding this. I’m following his lead, but the moment it gets rough I want him off me! He began to pull off his t-shirt, I stop him.
“This is a little too fast for me.” He pulls his shirt back down.
“Is it cool if I unbuckle my belt and undo the top button of my jeans? It’s uncomfortable, sorry.”
He feels a little restricted in his trou, but he knows the fly stays up or it would be rushing me if he popped out.
“Yeah it’s fine but don’t unzip the fly.”
He feels relief as soon as his belt was unbuckled and the top button was undone. He had to adjust himself and I’m feeling him on my thigh and I’m measuring in my head; to get a rough idea of what I could expect. He feels like he’s above average. I’m arousing myself with thoughts of grinding and pretending as we are practicing for when there are no layers of garments between us. There would be contact. There would be a hotter temperature, there would be textures, and there would be moistness. It really has been a while, I feel passive, but I’m afraid to get aggressive or it would move too fast.
He climbs over to lie on top and I part my legs and feel that pressure of something solid pressed up against my own trou. He starts to slowly buck and I am feeling more turned on with every covered push. He is kissing my neck and above my bra, I feel my chest heaving. It’s like my breasts are sensitive and any brush against them sends a shiver of goose bumps to cover my skin.
I’m contemplating letting him cup my breasts above, then below my bra. Then I think of him pulling the top down and suckling. Why more men don’t want to relax a woman with sensual breast play, really are selling the chicks short. It may make them more responsive, her body more prepared. It’s early evening, there is light in my room. We would be visible if our clothes came off. Am I ready to be nude with another man again?
Well let’s cover the basics:
I have condoms in regular and magnum sizes in the top drawer inside a pouch, with warming and cooling lubricant. There is a little silver bullet with a package of fresh cell batteries, and the latest edition to my ‘Just in case I hook up.’ kit, is the tingle gel that does help me. It has been a while. What do I stand to lose if we have sex right here right now?
It would be over too soon. I don’t mean his endurance to hold back. I mean chances are I won’t see him after. If there is a build up, maybe I would want him so much just thinking about him touching me makes me breathe deep and try to hide my mind was aroused. He would want to play tease for a while longer.
If he leaves me thinking of sex so I can just replay it over and over in my head, he’s bringing me out of my shell. I manage to get a break before I see him and my body already prepares for him to get closer. I’d like to try out extended foreplay and the responsible thing is waiting to get back the STD test results. I wonder if he’s circumcised.
I am not sticking my hand down his shorts to feel him up and find out. But I do hope so. I feel I would have to learn to get past the foreskin since I think it’s more common for a guy not to be snipped. I’ve run in to a few that last few times.
What can I say?
I like guys clean cut. I think of the sandworm from DUNE when it’s not pulled back. I guess it’s being greeted with a hood on.
He’s kissing my cleavage and then I feel him bite me through my bra cup. I felt the little surge from what felt like more of a gentle, playful pinch. I liked it. {Balance it out.}
“Could you do the same for the right?” I softly request.
He does kiss his way over, doing wet little licks and blowing slowly over his trail, cooling as it contacted with the moistness. He rubs his face right above my right bra cup, and then does the same with biting enough to feel the pinch from underneath the cup. He’s making me want to take his shirt off.
I need a break to slow down. It’s too tempting to speed up. I feel like a **** tease. Mikey, nothing personal, it’s the holding back triggered anxiety.
“Time-Out!”
“Are you thinking of him?”
“Honestly no. But now that you brought him up, let’s not do that!”
“Sorry.”
Michael slides off me to lie on his side between me and the throw pillows. He touches my hair, strokes then gathers a bit to loosely twirl around his fingers. I’m lying on my back, closing my eyes and not listen to whatever is telling me to cover myself up, snap back up the buttons of my Johnny Cash shirt. I want to clear my mind of all thoughts long enough I can focus someone I want to be close to me, is. Michael turns on his side to be on his back and scoots me to the edge. I’m thinking my twin bed shouldn’t be a day bed right now.
I don’t know where to place my hands and my elbow not jab him or cause me to fall off my bed. My hands decide to speak. My right hand, I place the palm against my heart and my fingers hold on by a caress. I feel the lace of my bra in the middle of my hand.
My left hand I lay down, straightened to touch my thigh. I feel the texture of the thread weave of the fabric of my trousers. His eyes were half open to see me move my left hand. He had his hands crossed on his chest. His left hand in a limp fist over his heart, and his right hand held his fist. He moves his right hand down to reach for my left and I first feel the skin of the side of his little finger. Our hands speak to each other. Our other hands speak to us.
Listening to the fan on, our hands tell each other things we could only guess at what they say. His limp fist, calm and resting on his chest, over his old dog tags. My other hand says it’s holding the rhythm of what is my heart beating. We remain still, in this comfortable silence or clearing our thoughts and listen to what are hands speak before we understand.
I turn on my side to face him. There was one thought I was clearing my mind to make space for. It didn’t need further rehearsal.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He says with his back to my bed. He still had his fist limp over his heart. It did not move. He turns his head to face mine.
“Feel like going for a walk?” he asks.
“You don’t want to make out anymore?”
“I do but you need to get out and get some air.”
{Follow his lead and roll along.}
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