Addicted Ch. 17

The aroma.

The scent.

That's what I woke up to.

I don't know the best way to describe it, but it deserved better than the "smell of sex." The slightly stale reminder of sweat and cum… which doesn't sound great when you say it like that, but in the moment, the girl still in my arms, it was nice.

Opened my eyes to the diffuse glow of sunlight and… Fuck, it had to be noon!

It was also Sunday. I forced myself back to the pillow. Perspective, man: we'd gone to sleep about the time we'd normally be waking up. You need rest.

After last night, what I needed was a shower.

"Good morning," she mumbled.

"Mornin, sunshine."

An ever-so-subtle smile curled the corner of her bee-stung lips. She rubbed her eyes a moment later and looked around. "My god, we just crashed last night, didn't we?"

"Nope, we crashed this morning."

"Ha! Yeah. I think…" She rolled and stretched like a cat. "…Yeah."

"What?"

"Sex hangover."

"Sore?"

She blinked a moment, feeling it out. That's when I noticed she was staring at her laptop. "A little? More, um, nervous about things I say when, uh…"

"You're horny?"

She nodded, a little self-conscious. "I've never really let my Freak Flag fly like this. Not in this way, at least."

"I am your 'safe space,' baby."

"Way, way, waaaay too safe," she shook her head. "I'm saying things, out loud, that I've barely even let myself THINK before now… to YOU, of all people!"

"Who else are you going to say them to?"

"I dunno! Ex-boyfriends? Random strangers I don't care about?"

For a second, my brain just collapsed on itself. An event horizon of irony? "Um…"

She held a hand between us, blocking my gaze like I was paparazzi. "No, don't even try. There's nothing rational about it."

I took her face in my hands and kissed her forehead. "Whatever you do, never stop talking to me. I'm not here to judge you."

She flung herself off the bed like it was a trampoline. "THAT'S WHY I CAN'T SHUT UP!"

I propped myself up on an elbow. "Damn, you're cute."

She gave me a little curtsy and paced around the room. She was crazy in the most wonderful way, but without a doubt, crazy.

Second elbow came up. "I should really-"

She vaulted back to the bed – onto me – her hands straddling my abs. "Lay down? Get comfortable? Stay a while? Love me? Yes, you should!"

"Well, I do."

"Love me?" Still straddling, her smile was Harley Quinn-wide.

"Yes."

"OH, MY GOD! Say it! Please, please, please say it!"

"I love you."

"Yessss…" she hissed into my ear. A kiss and a bite on the side of my neck, and she slid her full lips back to my ear. In the gentlest whisper: "I love you, too."

Words failed, but my finger answered, tracing a line down her spine until I got to the small of her back, where I traced little circles. Goosebumps covered her shoulder.

Her face still buried in my neck, her nipples brushed my arm. The gentlest touch, and somehow that had me rising to attention.

She kissed down my chest, stopping just as dropped below my pecs. "Gawd, I could fall in love with your abs alone."

"Thanks! I use them to make up for my personality."

"YOU!" was the muffled complaint as she bit my abs–

Which tickled like a motherfucker and drew a quick swat to her ass.

"Oooh, do I get a spankin'?" she chortled.

"Yes. I am not a ticklish guy, yet somehow you find a way."

"Let me…" She kissed her way down my abs. "…Make it up to you."

"Please, do."

I wondered how far she'd take it. We had some serious sex last night, fell asleep, hadn't showered… and now she was going to go down on me? Brave girl.

And there it was.

The wet warmth of her mouth around my dick.

A gentle mouth, then gradually sucking harder, like she was savoring it. There was something absolutely glorious about that.

"Liz, you are amazing."

She nodded, my dick at the edge of her throat, before pulling back to answer. "Yes. Yes, I am."

And she went right back to swabbing my shaft with her tongue. That was so… the first word that came to mind was "nasty," but even thinking that made me feel so stupid. Yeah, maybe it was, but it was fucking hot. Was it hot because it was nasty?

Sorta?

That was commitment. This girl had commitment. Not like monogamy commitment, but commitment to making it happen. And again, I was somehow getting even harder, pushing further down her throat.

She grabbed the base of my dick, licked the length of it, and looked up with the goofiest smile. "Scuse me, Stallion; do you mind if this cowgirl goes for a ride?"

I leaned back. "Saddle up, darlin."

Not sure where I picked up the sudden western accent.

She crawled up, straddling my hips, and her pussy hovered over my throbbing dick.

She did all the work, and I took the moment to watch her grab my dick and guide it in. A moment later, she sunk down – further and further – until her ass was bouncing off my balls.

Riding high with her eyes closed, she cupped her pert little tits as she rode me. A grimace, her eyes squeezed shut… then an "O" with those lips, and… cooing? She was having a good time, and that was amazing to watch.

It felt good. No, really, it felt amazing – but I'd felt this a lot. I'd never bothered to keep count of the girls who'd climbed aboard, but it was amazing with every single one of them. Somehow, though… somehow, this one drove me to distraction.

Cutesy. Why cutesy?

She didn't quite touch her clit and her body was already shuddering. She slowed down, for just a moment, and the wave passed through her.

Yeah, cutesy.

I'd like to say I didn't have a "type." It wasn't about hair color, or eyes, or skin tone. But I did: it was all about the angles. Cheekbones and jawlines. It was about high-speed heat. Lizzy wasn't that. Don't get me wrong, she had the fitness-queen body, but that face? No, I was a Jessica Rabbit-kinda guy, but I was totally wrapped around the axle for Betty Boop.

Her eyes fluttered open, but her hips were picking up speed again. She smiled at me, holding up a finger.

"First orgasm of the morning?"

She nodded, grinning.

Jesus, even mid-fuck: cutesy. If Lizzy opened the window and whistled, I'm pretty sure woodland animals would show up to do her housework. But it's Lizzy… and she'd be perfectly fine with seven dwarves keeping her warm until I came along. Even then, I'm pretty sure she'd sneak back to the forest every Thursday or so.

Fuck…

She lowered her chest to mine. "You're close, aren't you?"

I nodded, admitting it.

"Good! Me, too!"

She buried her face in my chest, her little nose right between my pecs, as she bounced her hips off mine in perfect rhythm.

I suddenly pictured my girlfriend as Snow White, gangbanged by a pack of dwarves. A buck says there's a movie about that somewhere.

She looked up, but her eyes were still shut, squeezed tight. "Are you thinking about last night?"

"Yeah? Kinda sorta?"

"Do you still want your girlfriend 'like that'?"

I nodded, if only because how the fuck am I gonna explain seven dwarves pulling a train on her? "Yeah?"

It seemed she was about to answer when her eyes went wide. I saw it happen: an orgasm snuck up and jammed itself right into her pussy. A breath, then her eyes slammed shut again as she suddenly held her breath.

A moment later, she squeaked: "Good!"

Aaand fuck. My girlfriend was a slut – and somehow that was the hottest fucking thing I'd ever heard. It was like my balls pulled back, slingshot-stye, then BOOM!

Everything went a little purple as I came inside her.

Her whole body trembled on top of mine. She was whispering: "OhGodOhGodOhGod…"

The pulse, a second pulse, a third pulse deep inside her.

She rocked her hips, keeping me deep, milking my cock. The whisper barely made it out of her. "Oh, god, I love that feeling! Yessss…."

We both took a moment to coast.

And process.

A minute later, she pushed off of my chest, a big grin on her face. She held up three fingers. "Thank you…"

"My pleasure. Really. Literally."

She bit her lip. "My pleasure… times three."

"Good." I took a breath and propped myself up on an elbow.

A lip bite and a deep, sex-flavored kiss later, she launched herself right off the bed again. "Okay, you stay here! It's my turn!"

"Huh?"

"Trust me! Don't move a muscle!"

I flexed a pec. Right chest. That was it.

She giggled and ran out of the room. "That's cheatiiiiiiiiiiing!"

…Said by the girl who gets off on cheating. Almost said that out loud, and last night, it would've worked, but right now? Different vibe. Certain words, at certain times.

Crossed my arms behind my head and looked at the all the watercolors hanging on the walls. Anything to take my mind off my still-wet, still-deflating dick.

Her painting really were amazing. Couldn't really see any of them when we were watching movies under the duvet. Or browsing "girlfriend porn" until dawn.

That was… yeah. Wow. Not really sure what to make of our porn journey. In one respect, we were totally feeling out our fantasy borders. What worked? What didn't?

That's where it gets weird.

My eyes were locked on a painting: it was mostly blues, with a streak of orange near the bottom. Even as my brain tried to figure out what it was, if anything, the artist herself was lighting me on fire.

How much of last night was just fantasy? Given that my girl had real-life blown two other guys in the last four days, last night felt like she was probing and planning for actual boundaries.

That was scary… Insane, maybe, but exciting. And… Turkey bacon?

The aroma offset the sex. Or complimented it. Or something.

Lizzy came in a minute later with a rasher full of bacon, a communal bowl of scrambled eggs and a pitcher of tomato juice.

I dove into the bacon. "I love you..."

"I know," she nodded, a perfect mirror from what we'd done yesterday morning.

We ate in silence for a minute until she realized she'd never plugged in her laptop last night: she'd just shoved it to the night stand. She held the computer in her hand as she looked me.

I looked back at her. I think I knew what she was thinking, but neither my brain, my dick, nor the expressway between them was sure about going back there just yet. Which itself was crazy: when did girls ever want to talk about porn? I should be leaping all over this, but then again… maybe she wanted to because we already had? Maybe she thought I wanted to?

To make it clear: I did. I did want to. But it felt like I was at the edge of obsession. I was just a nudge away from that compulsion where you're suddenly deluded into thinking everybody is just as horny as you were that second.

She took a deep breath and tucked away her laptop.

We ate in silence another minute or so, occasionally stealing looks at each other.

A sip of tomato juice was her smooth ice-breaker. "So, um… I've never done that before."

"Browse porn and compare notes?"

"Yeah."

"Sex memes. That was a first for me. I've watched porn before, I mean, it's…"

"Right?! Perfectly healthy! Me, too!"

"Memes?"

"No," she admit. "That was kind of intense. Like, add words and it hits at a different level."

Certain things were fitting together. "Do you like porn?"

She froze, then squinted like I'd caught her with a hand in the cookie jar. "…Yes?"

"You don't sound sure."

"Oh, I'm very sure." She gulped down a bit of eggs, capping the thought.

"Then we should do that again some time."

"YES! Yes, I mean. Just not now, right?"

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Damn. Did I mention you're cute?"

She looked away, suddenly self-conscious. "And you're blind."

I pointed at the walls, at all of her watercolors. "If I was blind, I would've missed all of these amazing paintings of yours."

She blushed. She actually blushed and curled into a ball on the bed.

"You okay in there?"

"Yes," she squeaked.

"I'm amazed you've never tried selling any."

"Who would buy them?"

"I would."

She untucked just enough to grab a piece of bacon. "Mister Tough Guy, who has literally nothing on his walls, would hang abstractionist pieces?"

"Hang what, now?"

"My paintings."

Took me a second to catch up. "Abstractionist, sure. But the colors come together for me. I don't know, there's probably some artsy analytical thing, but it forms pictures. Well, obviously. I must sound really smart right now, but… whatever. Okay, that green one over there? That's a stroll through a forest at dusk. This blue one over here? The orange along the bottom? That's about 30-foot depth, noon, scuba diving over a reef. All these pictures tell me stories. If they were for sale, I'd buy them."

She was sitting up now. "You'd seriously hang my pictures in your place?"

I nodded – and it had nothing to do with her being naked. "Yeah. In a heartbeat. Can I?"

"Can you…"

"Hang some up in my place."

She was biting her lip so hard, I was pretty sure she was going to draw blood. Her gaze was looking right through me, but those eyes. Those big brown eyes… "Pick four. Any four."

"COOL!"

I rolled outta bed, immediately pointing to the green and blue ones I'd mentioned earlier.

She followed me into the main gallery, also known as her living room. "This big purple one looks like an orchid. That's number three? Aaand… the red one over here. Not even sure what it's telling me, it just looks cool."

She did a little U-turn back toward her bedroom. "Okay!"

Swear to God, she was wasting her talents being an accountant. Then again, as I remembered, she'd used her talents on her boss. Different talents, but still artistic in its way.

Yeah, Lizzy was nuts. Certifiably crazy… genius. I've heard those two go together more often than not.

She came out of the bedroom, eyes a little puffy, but carrying the two paintings. "They're yours."

"Really? Like, for keeps?"

"Be nice to them. Like…" She swallowed. "Yes. Be nice to them."

Her hands bound, holding her paintings, she was captive as I cupped her chipmunk cheeks and brought her lips to mine.

"Thank you."

And we sealed it with a kiss.