We had established early on in his relationship with my sister that flirting was perfectly acceptable between us. I'm a flirt, he's a flirt, and we knew it would lead to nothing. Flirting was a harmless enjoyment.
When his hands lingered on my waist and drifted dangerously close to my ass under the guise of aiding my descent, I delivered the first warning. Flirting was one thing, but touching was quite another-- why risk going any further?
A blatant lie would be if I claimed the touch did anything short of liquefy my insides, and that was precisely what fueled the concern. He was irritatingly attractive and always smelled good; add in his clear reciprocity to the mix, and the temptation he posed was very real.
"No harm in just touching," he said. His eyes remained locked on my lips as he spoke, and the silent desire smoldering to the surface was something to behold.
Minutes later when we kissed, I got lost in the taste of his tongue and the soft purrs emanating from his throat. After what felt like ages, I broke the heated collision and his gentle reassurance soothed the concerns gnawing at my stomach.
"It's just kissing. Doesn't mean anything if we just kiss."
With that, he swept my hair from my burning neck and planted a tender trail of kisses up to my mouth. Even if I had any intention of protesting, words would have crumbled into useless ash before ever making a sound. My lips wanted solely to taste him again.
A strangled whine squeaked from my throat when he clutched my hips and weighed me onto his stiffening bulge. A deep growl rumbled his chest as the pressure against my throbbing clit knotted the air in my lungs. Pathetic facsimiles of a sentence attempted to escape on the plumes of my gasping breaths.
"We-- oh, fu-- we shouldn't--"
My forehead pressed against his while I rocked into his lap. Pleasure radiated from my core and flushed my neck and cheeks. Stopping was impossible, like offering a pointless idea despite being far too late to implement it. Maybe we should have made that left a mile back.
"It's okay," he breathed. A groan spilled hotly from his trembling lips before he added, "It doesn't count if we keep our clothes on."
Giggles fluttered off my tongue as my arousal drooled into my underwear. All exacerbated as new exceptions were presented every time our bodies traversed beyond the latest boundary.
"Your panties are still on," he said just after sucking my nipple into his mouth. "It's okay as long as your panties stay on." His tongue eagerly returned to the hardened nub freed from the fabric of my shirt.
"It doesn't count if I don't put my fingers in," he said while the sexiest grin accompanied his removal of my soaked undergarment. With the lick of his lips, his thick fingers stroked my heat. He spread the wetness over my clit in slick circles. I bucked and moaned and squirmed in ravenous pursuit of more friction.
"Fuck," he growled as his throbbing cock dragged over my messy cunt. Whines strained from my bitten lips, and my hips rolled mindlessly beneath him. Slapping the bulbous head on my aching clit sent my eyes spinning back into my skull. "It doesn't count if I don't put it in."
When I climaxed, a chaotic song of swears and moans howled from my lungs; breathy laughter exhaled from his.
"Fuck, that definitely doesn't count." Wickedness yanked at the corners of his mouth. "Doesn't count if you don't come on my cock or tongue."
stormborns
pixelskylines
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