"If i do ever get married, it won't be to a girl.
Promise are made to be broken.
We passed the time my parents were gone cuddled together on the couch, gently exploring the farther reaches of each other’s throats. Our kisses were deep and passionate, but chaste at the same time. Don’t ask me how it happened like that, it just did. Our hands didn’t wander, except up and down the arms of the other. I wished we could stay like this forever, entwined together on the sofa, a tangle of arms, legs, and hands. And oh god, those hands. They felt so good on me, even though they never strayed below my stomach. They felt almost good enough to forget about the pain and let him fuck me again. And the felt more than good enough to give me a boner. But when Omar felt it, he stopped kissing me and stroking my chest. I whimpered at the loss of warmth as he climbed off me.
The stare Omar fixed me with from the other end of the couch was deadly.
“Babe.” His tone was serious. “”Member the whole big conversation we just had?”
“Yeah.” I sighed. I couldn’t help the fact that he made me horny, and I told him so.
Omar laughed. “Yeah, I know babe. But I really don’t want to hurt you again, and you still haven’t fully figured this out. I don’t mean we shouldn’t do anything but… just not right now.” He smiled softly. “Maybe we can have a sleepover in a few days.”
I smiled back at him. “M’kay, babe.”
-Omar’s POV-
He had no idea how badly I wanted to fuck him again. But… no. No buts! I said I wouldn’t, so I won’t. And I’m sticking to what I said. Damn, this is gonna take some getting used to.
…
To avoid further temptation, I retreated to my corner of the couch. When Billy’s parents walked in the door, the only signs we’d ever moved were the blankets thrown on the floor and my slightly messed up hair. They didn’t even give us a second glance as they walked to the couch holding a pizza box and a Blockbuster bag. Seriously. Who still goes to Blockbuster? But that’s besides the point. Billy’s mom settled next to me on the couch, pushing me closer to her son, as his dad popped open the DVD tray.
Guess what movie they got. Rocky-fucking-Horror. What could be more perfect? On one side of me, I’ve got a super-horny, semi-hot 30-something mother, and on my other side, my even hornier, extremely hot 14-year old best friend and current love interest. Wait…did I say current? I meant…. Awww. Fuck it. I can’t think right now.
-Billy’s POV-
Oooh! Rocky Horror! This should be fun. I give Mom 10 minutes before she offers Omar a hand job. No joke.
.An Hour Later.
Whoa. She lasted longer than I’d expected. Almost as soon as I had thought these words, I felt Omar’s hand squeeze mine. About half an hour ago, right after they had gone up to Frank’s lab, not being able to bear the fact that I couldn’t touch him, I had slipped my hand slyly ender the blankets and into his palm. Then, when my parents were fully absorbed in the movie, I leaned closer to his ear and whispered, “Squeeze my hand when she starts trying to jack you off, okay?”
“Why?” he whispered back.
“”Cause I made a bet with myself. I wanna see how long she lasts.” I replied quietly.
Now, I could see my mom’s hand had slipped under the blankets and was slowly moving up Omar’s thigh. I grinned evilly and began to do the same to his left leg. His face grew tauter with every passing second, and started contorting into expressions of pained ecstasy. I could tell it was taking a great deal of self-control to keep from squirming. I grinned wider when I saw my mom cast him a sidelong glance and moved her hand higher yet, until…. Omar shifted his leg, sending her hand falling back to the couch. Pissed, she stood up.
“Come on, honey.” She said to Dad. “I’m tired. Let’s go to bed.” And off they went up the stairs, with me knowing it was only a matter of minutes before she began picturing Omar’s face in lieu of my dad’s.
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comments? opinions? hate mail? feedback of any kind? i love you all.
The stare Omar fixed me with from the other end of the couch was deadly.
“Babe.” His tone was serious. “”Member the whole big conversation we just had?”
“Yeah.” I sighed. I couldn’t help the fact that he made me horny, and I told him so.
Omar laughed. “Yeah, I know babe. But I really don’t want to hurt you again, and you still haven’t fully figured this out. I don’t mean we shouldn’t do anything but… just not right now.” He smiled softly. “Maybe we can have a sleepover in a few days.”
I smiled back at him. “M’kay, babe.”
-Omar’s POV-
He had no idea how badly I wanted to fuck him again. But… no. No buts! I said I wouldn’t, so I won’t. And I’m sticking to what I said. Damn, this is gonna take some getting used to.
…
To avoid further temptation, I retreated to my corner of the couch. When Billy’s parents walked in the door, the only signs we’d ever moved were the blankets thrown on the floor and my slightly messed up hair. They didn’t even give us a second glance as they walked to the couch holding a pizza box and a Blockbuster bag. Seriously. Who still goes to Blockbuster? But that’s besides the point. Billy’s mom settled next to me on the couch, pushing me closer to her son, as his dad popped open the DVD tray.
Guess what movie they got. Rocky-fucking-Horror. What could be more perfect? On one side of me, I’ve got a super-horny, semi-hot 30-something mother, and on my other side, my even hornier, extremely hot 14-year old best friend and current love interest. Wait…did I say current? I meant…. Awww. Fuck it. I can’t think right now.
-Billy’s POV-
Oooh! Rocky Horror! This should be fun. I give Mom 10 minutes before she offers Omar a hand job. No joke.
.An Hour Later.
Whoa. She lasted longer than I’d expected. Almost as soon as I had thought these words, I felt Omar’s hand squeeze mine. About half an hour ago, right after they had gone up to Frank’s lab, not being able to bear the fact that I couldn’t touch him, I had slipped my hand slyly ender the blankets and into his palm. Then, when my parents were fully absorbed in the movie, I leaned closer to his ear and whispered, “Squeeze my hand when she starts trying to jack you off, okay?”
“Why?” he whispered back.
“”Cause I made a bet with myself. I wanna see how long she lasts.” I replied quietly.
Now, I could see my mom’s hand had slipped under the blankets and was slowly moving up Omar’s thigh. I grinned evilly and began to do the same to his left leg. His face grew tauter with every passing second, and started contorting into expressions of pained ecstasy. I could tell it was taking a great deal of self-control to keep from squirming. I grinned wider when I saw my mom cast him a sidelong glance and moved her hand higher yet, until…. Omar shifted his leg, sending her hand falling back to the couch. Pissed, she stood up.
“Come on, honey.” She said to Dad. “I’m tired. Let’s go to bed.” And off they went up the stairs, with me knowing it was only a matter of minutes before she began picturing Omar’s face in lieu of my dad’s.
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comments? opinions? hate mail? feedback of any kind? i love you all.