DJ & Jay Ch. 03

“Whaaaa—What is it?” Glancing around somewhat warily, DJ was giving me a good view of his (extremely, K-2, can we say CARROT?) sharp profile which provoked another spasm of silent laughter.

“Nothing!” I managed between some very unladylike snorts. “God, I’m sorry!” The harder I tried not to laugh, the worse the giggles got.

“Oh, I know what your problem is.” His eyebrows slanted down in the middle. “Go ahead. Stare. Get it out of your system. Even my mother does it when I haven’t seen her for a while.” He deliberately crossed his eyes at me. .

So, I did. I took in, at length, as it were, every inch of his pointy-noised, knock-kneed, almost frighteningly frail frame. His ass, though I couldn’t see it in the water, was nearly non-existent; his ribs, collarbones, and vertebrae jutted painfully; his limbs resembled exclamation points. I wondered if it was some error of metabolism, and if this would happen to me. Even so--exposed, vulnerable at least in appearance, and nearly hairless--DJ was still cuter than hell. The rest of his face had a special quality about it that I couldn’t put a finger on. Tasha thought it was his eyes. I thought it had more to do with his mouth and jaw line; maybe both.

DJ kept quiet while I gawked, but eventually his eyes started to take on a semi-evil glint. “Do you know what my philosophy about staring is? It’s really bad manners; really rude.”

I turned red. He was right.

“Do you know what I want from you, in exchange for your long, hard look?” he asked.

“No. What? You want to give a long, hard—“

“Wrong! I’m going to shave you. Bald.” He lowered his gaze pointedly. “So, do you think that’s a fair trade?”

I’d never been shaved all the way. I’m what you’d term, “neatly trimmed.” I’d actually thought of shaving off the whole mess before, but had never had the motivation. Now here sat a free bikini-area stylist who thought he was getting even. Let him!

I pretended to need to be talked into it, though I did have a couple of real concerns. “What if you cut me? And how are you going to get rid of the hair? I’m sure it would clog the jets in this tub.”

DJ was quick to answer. “I promise to be extra-careful. If not, I’ll let you do the same to me. And I’ll use a towel for now, for the hair. Just jump up on the edge… come on now, fair’s fair.”

A woman’s razor appeared in DJ’s hand.

“You have shaving cream?” I asked him in a fake Mexican accent.

“Uh-huh,” and a miniature can of it that had definitely been in the cabinet earlier when Tasha and I inspected made its appearance.

“What else do you have up your sleeve?” I wondered aloud.

“It’s not so much what’s up my sleeve,” DJ began. And didn’t finish. He didn’t have to.

I needed no further convincing.

“You were going to ask me anyway, weren’t you? Now you’ve just got an excuse. Weren’t you? You naughty little boy,” I drawled in almost-Southern similar to DJ.

“Busted!” He grinned at me. “Now let me get to work. This might take a while.”

“Hey! It’s not that bad. Is it?” Bad, meaning hairy.

DJ winked at me. “Well I certainly don’t want to nick you. I’ve cut myself before and---“ he pursed his lips and sucked in his breath. “That smarts!”

I could imagine.

So DJ helped me up to the foot-wide ledge that ran around the tub and got between my legs. He had me to put my back to the wall and my feet up on the lip of the tub to brace them. Next he suggested I close my eyes. When asked why, he said he’d have less stage fright that way. Stage fright? Funny thing for him to say.

“Yeah. I work fine under pressure but I’d like to concentrate. Plus, I think you’ll enjoy it more that way.”

Though dubious, I complied.

He shook the can of shaving cream vigorously and dispensed what sounded like a generous portion of lather. A second later, the sharply scented, whipped creamy-feeling mass of it was being slathered all over my pubes. DJ smoothed it over the whole bottom end of me, it seemed: my mound of trimmed hair, along the insides of my legs, all the way down my lower lips and back to my asshole; all attended to and covered. He didn’t attempt anything sexual; it was almost like being at a salon that offered this type of service. I let out a sigh. DJ’s free hand touched one of my thighs, high up. I flinched.

“Sssh,” he said, even though I’d said nothing. Then very softly, “Here’s the razor.”

It was at least warm. DJ had had it in the water while he lathered me. When the sharp edge took off its first stripe, I hardly felt it. The blades ran silkily over every surface. In a few minutes DJ had taken off everything in easy reach, alternately wiping it on the hand towel he kept close. I left my eyes shut and let the sensations take over. My pussy and clit throbbed pleasantly, warming to his touch. All in all, as I became steadily balder, it was like having more and more nerve endings activated. DJ’s hands and attentions were extremely cautious and gentle. He extended one of my legs, then the other, reshaving both all the way up to the inner joint. When the razor started to drag just a little, he flicked the used blade into the closest wastebasket and clicked on another. He kept quiet but I could hear his breathing getting faster and heavier. Mine was, too. I tucked my ass under to give him better access, totally comfortable exposing myself so blatantly… as long as I kept my eyes shut. Then DJ grasped one of my pussy lips and pulled it taut. He scraped a day’s worth of stubble from the outside skin, then along the most sensitive part near the inner surfaces. He traced the hairline all the way up to where it met the other lip, right over my clit, which, unexpectedly, he flicked lightly.

“What have we here,” he said in his most innocent voice. My eyelids cracked lazily to let him know I’d heard but he’d have to figure it out for himself. We were definitely playing this round. First he was the ego-bruised starlet, then he tried the con, and now he wanted to be naïve. He performed the same operation on the opposite side, going for the fake-out with my clit again. It was getting very interested in having him pay it some real attention. “Lick it.”

DJ went squeamish. “Eeeugh! All that soap!” Then he nose-dived into my pie and slurped little circles around and around my distended sex button. After a good tease, he washed his mouth out with bath water and spit it forcefully against the same spot. I wiggled around, trying to get directly in line with his stream of water. Then he cupped his hands together and scooped up enough of the steaming water to rinse off all traces of shaving cream.

“We’re making a mess,” I observed. Which we were.

“Oh, well… housekeeping,” was all he said, winking. “Now get in here. Look at the beautiful shaved pussy you have now. I can’t wait anymore. I gotta fuck you.”

He said it almost like he was expecting me to refuse him. Not me. Oh, no. DJ with that “I want sex” on his man/boy face was more than I could stand, too. Not realizing I’d been sitting folded up too long while DJ shaved me and that both of my legs were totally asleep, I more or less fell into the Jacuzzi tub, slashing a huge wave of water on the tile.

“Oh, well… housekeeping,” I parroted. “Ow!” The feeling was coming back into my deadened limbs. DJ thought my predicament was amusing and was happy to take advantage of it. He sat me on the edge of the underwater seat and positioned himself directly in front of me, kneeling, only his head and shoulders out of the water. Purposely, he poked at my leg with his penis.

“Oops!”

“That’s not it!”

He pretended to line himself up again, complete with a bit of a ‘shake your tail feathers’ wiggle, and affected a porn-star sloe-eyed sneer. It was a joke but I still thought it looked sexy as hell. The head of his cock hit me again, this time in the region below my navel.

“Did I get it yet?!?

“That WASN’T it!”

DJ pretended to be defeated. “I give up,” he said dejectedly, slumping his slight shoulders.

Oh, really? He wanted me to take the lead, fine, he had it.

For the first time, I reached down and wrapped my hand around his cock. He opened his mouth to make some smart-ass remark. He didn’t have a chance. I rubbed the heat-seeker against my warmth and let him do the rest. Instinct took over. Still with the look of being almost ready to quip, DJ thrust forward and up and imbedded himself in me. His next expression, one of surprise and satisfaction, was classic. My insides jumped and tightened. For a long minute, neither of us moved, getting used to it. I was being seriously stretched. It had indeed been a long time.

Suddenly, simultaneously, we each made a grab for the other and mashed the upper portions of our bodies together, occupied with an ever-tightening embrace. DJ worked his hips as much he could without knocking us over. My natural fluids were much more viscous than the water and he slid slickly, letting my neglected pussy to distend a little at a time, working it till he was in to the hilt. We kissed sloppily, as much licking as kissing. My hands slid over as much of his body as I could reach. He alternated squeezing my breasts or my ass cheeks, my back or shoulders like a purring cat does with its paws. It was exquisite. I made noises, not too loud because of our roommates. DJ bit his lips in effort to be silent. But he was. I on the other hand, repeated, “Oh. Fuck, fuck, oh fuck me DJ,” over and over again, going quietly crazy with the young man’s rigid tool buried deep inside me. The cramped, limited movement heightened the sensations. Every time he got his cock all the way up in me, I was able to rub my clit against him. As if I really needed any more stimulation. Not entirely over being star-stuck and honestly, as hard as I’d tried to get over it, the fact that it was DJ fucking me turned me on ridiculously.

He shoved himself in as far as he could go and froze. I wavered on the brink of cumming.

“How close are you?” he asked breathlessly.

“Oh, god, don’t stop now… that close!” I bit back a moan as my near-orgasm receded.

“Do you think you could bring yourself off, just by squeezing…on the inside… you know….?” He slowly backed across the tub with me impaled on him, legs around his waist, till he was seated on the opposite side of where we started.

I was having difficulty speaking. “Oh, god, DJ, please don’t make me wait. I wanna cum so bad… I wanna cum on you.”

“Do it, Amy, just do it like I said, ‘k?”

The room was starting to spin, it seemed, as we ascended toward orgasm again. I did as he asked, squeezing and pushing with my internal muscles. One hand clamped, finger-splayed, on my ass and the other played with a breast. I wanted insanely to grind my hips; keeping still was maddening. It was going to be a long drawn-out cum when it finally came, that was for sure. For some minutes I continued to apply pressure to DJ’s cock with my insides. DJ grunted in pleasure every time I switched from in to out; the wetness generated by my crazed pussy helped with a little glide action. It was a weird sort of fucking. I knew from his eyes, and mine had to be the same, that he wanted to let go and screw the shit out of me. Just knowing and seeing that made my lust hotter than anything physical, this time. But he didn’t; we remained nearly motionless, inching along to an explosion that should leave us both screaming, but without being told I knew to hold that in, too.

In desperation I moved my pelvis just a little, trying to speed up. I had to cum or be committed. One or the other. “Quiet,” DJ whispered, both hands immobilizing my lower body.

“Uuuunh,” he groaned as I clamped down hard. “Oh, squeeze it, Amy. Squeeze me, bring yourself off…” his voice trailed off. I bore down like I was giving birth and his eyes rolled back.

Stars danced in my line of vision. I felt stoned. Gritting my teeth in effort, I pulled off one of the most serious orgasms I’d ever had. The explosion started as it always did in my clitoris, a fine bolt of white lightning. It moved steadily upwards in ripples; surely DJ felt it too. His whole body went stiff like he’d been shocked. He pushed down on my hips and held me tight, beginning to shake all over. I continued to cum, my whole lower torso roiling in waves and contractions of pleasure.

He was right about the eventual result. As soon as the first supercharged orgasm receded, another reared up; like a chain reaction two more followed immediately. It was almost too much. Breathing seemed optional; the only bodily requirement was simply cumming. DJ was holding his breath too. As the last wave hit me, he unloaded into me, shooting his hot juice till I was full to bursting. I came again, in reaction to his cream, and nearly passed out; he had to hold me up, no easy task as he was in the same condition. His strength finally gave out, after we’d had a few seconds to breathe again. We slid into the water, heads and all, like 2 de-boned merpeople. De-boned. Yeah, right. Even underwater I nearly burst out laughing. But then it was easy to be silly after cumming that hard.

We settled down into the slowly cooling water. I kissed the end of DJ’s nose. He leaned over and licked my ear, giving me delicious aftershocks. He ran his fingertips over my face and neck and l just reclined back against him, taking it all in.

From the other side of the suite we heard sultry laughter, then a squeal. Tasha and Jay were obviously bantering, and more than that, but we couldn’t hear the exact words. Even so, I’d heard the tone enough times in that East Coast nasal I could tell Jay was saying something utterly filthy about how hot he was, and what was she going to do about it? It was quiet a minute, then Jay moaned, loudly, and long. “Stop, stop, stop!” he yelled. Then nothing. DJ and I exchanged glances again, too intrigued to talk. Then they both moaned, not as loudly, and Tasha said clearly, “Spank my naughty ass!” SMACK! She got her wish. DJ and I dissolved into another fit of giggles.

“I’ve gotta see this,” DJ told me, pushing me off his lap and rising from the water.

“What, you’re going to watch?”

“I told you… I’m a voyeur. Well, are you coming?”

As much as I wanted to see Jay naked, still, how would Tasha react to being observed? DJ toweled himself off and wrapped a complimentary robe around himself. The walking string bean effect became obvious again.

“Last chance,” he grinned at me. The moaning and smacking sounds resumed. I caught the towel he threw at me and followed him on shaky legs.

DJ and I conspiratorially crept out our door and across the common room. As we neared the other bedroom, he actually knelt down and motioned for me to do the same. Slowly, inching his way, DJ peeked around the door frame. Then, when he could see, he just as slowly made room for me to do the same. What a sight!

The noises had forewarned us, but it was still impressive. Jay and Tasha were butt naked in the middle of the huge bed. Tasha was on her hands and knees, her whole body tense, with her thighs splayed wide, fists nearly ripping the spread, a look of intense ecstasy on her face. Jay slammed her powerfully from behind, grunting with very thrust. She couldn’t see us even though she was directly facing us. Her eyes clamped tightly shut, her head was thrown back and her jaw thrust forward in aggressive enjoyment of the fucking she was getting. One thing about Tasha, she’s always polished. She even looked good in the midst of raunchy sex. Her brows, drawn down in concentration, were the only rumpled thing about her. Jay’s pale skin was slightly sweaty already, the lighting making him look luminescent. His hair swayed forward and back with his motion as he watched the sheen of his lubed stick disappear and reappear. Tasha’s breasts swung heavily underneath her, like ripe fruit. The golden boy lunged forward especially forcefully and flung his mane back; Tasha yelped and backed down on him.

“Faster,” she spit out. Jay complied, flying in and out of her. She met him in the middle every time. He had her lush ass cupped in his hands but she needed no assistance. They were both near cumming from the looks on their faces. As if I hadn’t already had 3 wrenching orgasms earlier, my body was responding to their show. Momentarily, I was confused. I wanted to be violently fucked like that, and for damn sure I wanted it from Jay. DJ was breathing heavily down my neck. What about him? Why was I not satisfied with all the pleasure I’d gotten already? You don’t just do that, bounce from one to the other, fucking for the fun of it like it was nothing. Yet in a way we’d already switched partners, twice in my case.

Maybe it was the sense of my own doom, the uncertainty of if I’d even be around in another year that let me to say, “What the fuck?” Here we all were, all of a mind to have some fine ‘experiences,’ as Tasha and I always called our ancient history. If nothing else, none of us would ever have to do it again. On the bed, Tasha cried out like a porn queen in heat and Jay spanked her hard, first on one side, then other.

“Y’ like that baby, huh? Y’ like it? Ooooh, Jay is the master of the pussy.” He was positively growling.

“Please, please, oh, uh….” she was incoherent and so close to her climax I could almost smell it. Far be it from me to say watching her wasn’t sexy. It was. I identified with her; it was me there, getting the shit banged out of me. A definite ooze was snaking its way down the insides of Tasha’s legs as Jay’s thick shiny rod went in and out of her faster yet. When she came, we all knew it. I’d never seen anything like it, not in real life. Tasha has a sweet soprano singing voice and when her orgasm hit (like a freight train by the looks of it) she let out a wail that was more like a song. It had a truly angelic quality to it; she gave her full breath to it for a good 20 seconds while her internal crashing went on and on. Jay all the while kept smacking into her with his mobile cock, his balls bouncing off her ass, and for good measure, slapped her another sharp one on the backside. When it was over, she slumped down on her elbows, ass still high in the air.

Jay was very close, himself. He was flushed from his hairline all the way down to mid-chest, rivulets of sweat running from his temples. Strands of hair were stuck in it. He suddenly pulled out Tasha and sat back on his heals, cock in hand.

“Oh, yeah, I’m gonna come all over your ass,” he moaned. He apparently had caught sight of DJ and me at some point, because as he spoke he was leering in our direction.

“Watch me yank that shit,” he went on, stoking himself deliberately. The man had a look on his face like the devil himself: full debauchery. He leaned forward and hit Tasha’s butt with his raging piece of meat several times. This he did it for his own pleasure. With no further warning, exclaiming, “Here’s the jizz!” he delivered, snarling, shooting in streams all over Tasha’s back and buttocks. She looked startled, disconcerted. She was always telling me how she hates getting sperm on herself, and here she had just gotten it for the second time. She wasn’t complaining.

Something warm and runny hit me on the back of the leg. I swiveled my head back to DJ, who had whacked himself so quietly and unobtrusively I hadn’t noticed a thing. His eyes closed tightly, the vessels in his forehead all reared up and pounding. Cum splattered against me in several rushes. When he opened his eyes, looking sheepish, I was ready. Smearing his semen up my leg, across my stomach, up to my tits, I stared him down. Though he didn’t say, I was pretty sure that such a visual creature got off on the sight of his leavings being absorbed in to the skin of his lover.

Jay had keeled over on his side and Tasha flipped on her back, catching their breath. The intensity of it broke over all of us as we threw wordless looks back and forth across the room. God knows what the guys had seen already in their not-so-long lives. This was something totally new and unexpected for me; Tasha too, I was pretty sure. Right then, it was like we could read each other’s minds.