Personal Growth

"Bit warm in here, too," I purred, my voice thick, the shirt joining my bra where I'd thrown it on the floor. He'd spent twenty minutes with his hands on my tits, and he stared greedily at the red marks his fingers had left there as I curled my knees up, shoving my pants over my knees. I really wanted to be naked.

Two weeks. Long enough.

He watched me strip, his hard dick tenting his boxers, its veiny thickness peeking out through the hole in the front, but I had other things to do. Capturing his eyes with mine, I smirked greedily as I swung my leg astride his chest. I had to think about it before I spoke, my brain losing its ability to maintain ability to unscramble itself. "So. Take a look, Cam. Tell me where you fucked up."

He didn't look like he was quite as addled as I was, his expression harshly controlled as he swept his eyes over my nude body. I worked my way up his chest on my knees, his bunched shirt tickling my legs, both his hands curling smoothly around my hips to grip my butt. His eyes dug my soul out, and feasted on it, intense, focused on nothing but me. In this moment, I was alone in his world. Goddamn, I told myself. Denise is so fucking lucky.

I'd been wrong. It wasn't the scar that made women want to fuck this man. It was his eyes.

He leaned up, peering at me, making me wait fully exposed for his inspection, those eyes raking me. I settled back, easing into his hands, reaching back to prop my hands on his thighs while he examined me. Even I could smell me. He cleared his throat. "Looks just like I said," he said slowly, his breath making me twitch. "Inch wide. Starts a couple inches below your belly button. Cut short. Shaved underneath." He nodded up at me, then gave my bare ass a brisk slap. "I was right."

"God!" I bit it out without even thinking, taking my time recovering, the little sting tickling at my mind. "I don't shave underneath." I had to force the words out. "That's where you're wrong, you smug bastard. I pluck."

"Shave, pluck." He rolled his eyes, still in control, his hands skittering up and down my hips. "Why do I care? It's fucking gorgeous. And it's drooling on my shirt."

"Take it off, if you're going to whine about it," I managed, panting. "And there is a difference," I insisted as he worked to get his shirt off. "Plucking is smoother." Holy shit. I sighed, his chest coming into view, my hands itching to bury themselves in his fur. "I like a hairy man."

"I can tell," he shrugged, his head finally popping out of the shirt. "That hot fucking pussy tells me you like what you see." He raised his eyes then, commanding me. "Bring it here. I want to taste it."

"Yeah?" I felt my lip curl, my mouth watering for him. I was giddy, his eyes and his words giving me confidence once more, my tongue loosening. "Remember, Cam," I giggled, "we really shouldn't fuck."

"Shit," he snapped, teeth bared as he pulled me hard up past his chin and straight down onto his face, my hands shooting out to grip Denise's headboard.

"Jesus!" I squealed it, screeching, my voice not even sounding like my own as his mouth collided with my slit, just fucking crashed up into me while his iron fingers held me in place. My thoughts evaporated once again, my brain feeling strangely liquid, leaking down my spine and straight out onto Cam's tongue, leaving nothing at all but a soft wave crushing me, battering me, exhausting me, his lips working hard.

I hauled myself upright, blinking, my hands burrowing into Cam's scalp. I was desperate to keep him there, to feel the pressure of his lips and teeth on my mound, feasting, his tongue lashing crazily inside me. "Yeah," I heard myself grunt, barely even aware I was speaking, "eat that pussy. Show me how a man licks cunt!" I ground myself down onto him, his head moving crazily between my palms, his strong lips marching up and down my slit to suck hard, suddenly, at my clit. "Make me cum!" I demanded, as if he needed my urging, that battering wave now lifting me up instead of beating me down.

I felt like I was flying, totally dissociated, looking down at a woman gasping and twitching as she humped Cam's face, and I marveled that he could stand it. I yelped again when his nose dug hard into the top of my slit, his strong tongue curling up and under, and my brain exploded: keep him there. More of that! I stopped, trembling above him, both our hands locked onto each others' bodies as the waves pummeled me, leaving me shaking and weak with my voice cracking. "Yes! Goddamn!" I crowed at the top of my lungs, tears running down my face, my limbs heavy and twitchy and sore with the effort of riding Cam's face.

My brain sang as I came slowly down, my hands unclenching handfuls of Cam's hair as his own grip eased on the welted cheeks of my ass. I slipped slowly over his chin, the stubble there rubbing raw over my swollen labia, shuddering in a post-orgasmic haze.

He surveyed me as I panted, his eyes impassive, his lower face gleaming with my juices. "Well," he sighed, bringing his own breath under control, "shaved or plucked, whichever. It tastes amazing, Anna." He smiled dreamily, licking me off his own lips. "Fuck." He stretched his cramped neck, a smile pulling at his mouth, his arms finally sweeping up to tuck under his head, a picture of self-satisfaction. Every man loves to make a woman cum. "I might have been wrong," he admitted finally, my eyes fluttering dully as I brought them into focus on his slicked mouth, "but so are you. We should fuck, you sexy little bitch." He arched his eyebrows. "You know we should."

"Goddamn," I whimpered low, not sure at first whether my throat would produce enough sound to make myself understood. I gazed down at him, the room a fog of sweat and cunt, and then curled myself low to do what I'd been thinking about for two days: I ran my tongue straight up along his scar, tasting my pussy there, moaning in his ear. "Maybe you're right..." I muttered, his body right there underneath me, both of us nude but for his stained boxers, and it would have been the easiest thing in the world just to slide myself down his hairy chest, leaving a trail, and stare into his eyes as I reached back, plucked that thick dick through the slit in his boxers, and then drove it into another slit.

My slit.

Easiest thing in the world, and his eyes were widening, his head nodding, the magic growing, my body already moving as my mom's front door slammed. We stayed right where we were, both of us locked into each other for a couple of seconds, my hand already reaching back for his meat, and then both our eyes went wide as the importance of the slamming door finally penetrated. "Fuck!" he gritted, his teeth clenching, and then both of us were swarming off the bed in a flurry of stinky sheets.

I fell straight to the floor as he bucked me off, groping crazily for my bra, my shirt, my pajama bottoms lying god knows where, while Cam slid his pussy-stenched shirt over his head and lunged for the little bathroom that connected my room to Denise's. And thank God it did, too, the two of us diving in there with our clothes bundled in our arms, slamming the door behind us. "Get moving," he ordered rapidly, his cockhead still reaching out angry and purple through the front of his boxers. "I'm shitting in here, you're taking a nap in your room."

"My pants," I wailed, choking, my eyes wide. "My thong... They're in there..." We heard loud voices from the front of the house. Sounded like Denise had brought her friends home, and the whine of Abby Porvecchio's voice brought my brain back into its normal, Stanford-MBA function. "Jesus, Cam, that whole fucking room smells like pussy!"

"Relax." He sounded harsh, confident. "It's fine. Denise and I are shit at laundry, the heat is on, the house is all closed up, and I fucked her last night anyway. So sure, the room's all stuffy and the sheets stink." He shoved his hair out of his eyes and shrugged. "She brought her friends home. She's not going to show them her pigsty of a room." He moved over to the sink, glancing over at me. "You are one hot piece of ass, babe. Now get to bed and pretend like you've got a headache or some shit."

"Sounds good." I was coming back under control, sorting options, rejecting some of them; he was right. She wasn't going to bring Craig into her old bedroom. Not with his wife here; I'd heard the two of them fucking in there several times, the year after they graduated. I took a deep breath and waited until Cam looked over at me from the sink. "Cam?"

"I know." His voice sounded dull. "That was stupid. No way should we have done that. I get it."

"Or?" I pulled my shirt over my head, still nude and inflamed from the waist down. "Or? You ate me out like a goddamn pro, it was a fucking tremendous orgasm, and I owe you one." I smiled, my brain still popping. "You decide which interpretation you want out of this. Get back to me."

I left him gaping with his toothbrush in his hand.

* * *

I don't like a debt hanging over my head. I needed to make Cam cum.

I was hoping I could get some private time with him that night, maybe if Denise conked out on the couch again; I doubted I'd risk getting him off right there in the living room with her snoring, but I wasn't above dragging him back to my room for a little privacy and a hurried thrill-fuck bent over my old dresser.

He knew it, too, those eyes of his hanging on me most of the evening as the two of them curled up on the loveseat. Abby and Craig had the other end of the sectional, both of them drowsing after the half-ton of Chinese mom had brought home. I took the recliner, the draft driving me away from the window-seat. It was the coldest night in two years. "We're in for a hard freeze tomorrow, kids!" my dad announced before he headed up, to a wave of general disinterest.

"I'm heading for bed, lovebirds," I sighed at around eleven. "Long day."

"Night, dumbass," Denise purred, and I bit back a retort, something to the effect of how her man had had my pussy wrapped around his tongue a few hours before.

"Takes one to know one," I muttered. "Nice seeing you again, Craig. Abby," I lied, the two of them shaking off their stupor long enough to smile vaguely at me. I saved Cam for last, sending him what I thought was a veiled, meaningful glance that probably just looked like I was constipated. "Cam."

"Anna." He flipped his inscrutable eyes toward me once, pinning my soul, and then I was on my way. I lay awake for a long time that night, listening for heavy footsteps. And even though I never heard Cam fuck Denise, he didn't fuck me either.

* * *

I awoke to the rush of water in the walls, a comforting childhood sound: the pipes for the little shower in our bathroom ran right past my head as I slept, and there'd been countless mornings I'd awakened to the sound of Denise taking care of her morning hygiene. I rolled over, my sheets in tatters and my fingers stroking speculatively at my snatch, feeling my own dried juices matting my pubes, thinking about yesterday and the secret reason I had beard-scratches on my thighs.

"Fuck! You need to get off my back!" It floated down the hall from the kitchen, sharp choppy voices, my sister's whining versus my mom's bitter sarcasm, and it took my morning brain a moment to sort through the meaning of that.

The shower was on.

Denise was in the kitchen.

My brain came fully awake at once, the water still rushing, and sat straight up. My clothes lay across the room, half of them folded neatly in my suitcase and the other half piled in one of Mom's laundry baskets, but I ignored them. I'd slept naked, and if I was right about who was in the shower, there was no reason for me to put anything on. He'd seen it all yesterday.

I crept ninja-style into the bathroom, greeted at once by a cloud of steam and the spatter of water in the stall. I peered at the curtain, trying to discern his shape behind, but Denise was still muffled from the kitchen and there wasn't anyone else it could possibly be in there but Cam.

I crossed quietly to the door connecting the bathroom to Denise's room and clicked its flimsy lock. Denise and Mom could argue for hours or minutes; no way to tell. I padded back to the sink, facing the shower stall, and leaned back against it with the cheeks of my ass nude against the cold porcelain, waiting for Cam to finish up in the shower. As an afterthought, I took his towel quietly off the hook by the stall and threw it over my shoulder, crossing my arms beneath my boobs just as he shut the water off.

The curtain rattled harshly aside, my breath catching in my throat. Showtime. I took in his stocky body, dripping, and saw realization dawn as he groped for his towel and found nothing. He wiped the water from his eyes and blinked across at me, his expression going feral. "Good morning, Anna."

"Hi there." I tossed him the towel underhand, staring as he swept the water from his skin with short, savage scrubs. I watched him silently the whole time, seeing the water glitter in his hair, the pleasant jiggle of his penis as he moved, the unexpectedly low hanging balls beneath. "Hope you didn't use all the hot water," I said at last, quietly.

"You don't give a shit about the hot water," he shrugged, stepping out onto the fluffy green bathmat. He looked like a god, standing before me.

"No," I nodded, "not really. I'm more interested in making you cum." I moved forward, my hand already moving out and down, curling a finger around the shaft of his penis. Even soft, it had impressive heft, that same solidity to it that I'd found in the rest of his body. I weighed it, both of us looking down at where I held it, before I let it bounce back down. "I told you yesterday. I owe you."

"Anna," he told me evenly as I sank to my knees, "I ate you out because I wanted to eat you out. It wasn't a favor. You don't owe me anything." Still, I felt his fingers wind themselves into my fine dark hair, that Japanese hair guys loved as it brushed over their bodies.

"Yep." I leaned in, far in, my head tipping, and slurped those heavy balls of his straight into my mouth, letting my tongue run over the wrinkles of his leathery sack, tasting him. I made sure the sound was loud when I spat him out, a lewd wet smacking noise as both my hands rested on his thighs. "What's that? I can't quite hear you." Lifting his dick high against his hairy belly, I moved straight back in for his testicles, choosing one at random and sucking it hard into my mouth. Sure enough, my fingers felt an unmistakeable twinge along his shaft.

Good. I had a plan. I was going to harden him, suck him, and take his cum. And make him want me to do it again. And again.

Our gazes met, right there under the cracking paint of my old bathroom ceiling, and once again I felt my pussy pulse at what I saw behind his eyes. Fuck. I'd given more than one blowjob over the years in this room, random boyfriends while I was home from college, but never once had I wanted to give myself to eyes like Cam's. I spat out his ball. "I'm going to suck you dry," I vowed, my voice low.

"Not if I don't let you," he shot back, almost a whisper. I inhaled his scent, clean and masculine, as his fingers tightened in my hair. "What if I'd rather put my cum somewhere else?" he taunted me.

"Silly Cam." I ran my fist lewdly up and down his shaft, feeling the swiftness and power with which it firmed up. "Remember? We can't fuck, you and I."

"Can't we?" He hunched his hips forward, his hardening dick leaping out of my hand to nudge my cheek. I giggled. "We were going to, yesterday."

"Were we?" He was already all the way there, thick and juicy in my hand, and I sent my other one around at last to let his ass fill it. He was still wet back there in his crack; he'd sped up with the towel. "Maybe." I was jacking him fully now. He had an amazing penis, girthy and heavy, a bludgeon to pound a woman into oblivion. I wanted it. I licked along his length, little flicks with my tongue, watching his expression tighten. I reached the tip and burrowed my tongue into his piss slit, feeling him jump as my fingernail flirted with his asshole. "If your bride hadn't come home early..." I closed my lips around his head, licking, and let his mind complete the sentence.

"Mmm." He thrust forward, just slightly, past my teeth. "What? You'd have put out for me like a little whore?" He held still, enjoying my tongue flat along the bottom of his erection, savoring the sight of my lips around his cock. "Like your sister does?"

I backed off at once in a little burst of saliva, my warning fingers tightening on his scrotum. "As you might find out," I purred, looking up, "there's really no comparison between me and her."

"No?"

"No." I took him in again, showing off, my lips moving halfway down and then further. Further. His head nudged at the back of my mouth and I swallowed smoothly, my throat trained by a lifetime of practice as it took him deep. He stared down, nodding once it was obvious I'd get him all the way in, his wide head halfway into my throat as I held him there with his pubes tickling at my nose. Two seconds, three, and the tears were starting in my eyes before he relaxed his fists in my hair.

I pushed myself. Seven seconds. Eight. Personal growth. My eyes prickled.

"I'm starting to think you might be right," he muttered, his voice distant behind the ringing in my ears, and that's when I started backing off. Slowly. I wanted him to watch his veiny meat slide out of my mouth inch by inch, and remember it when lesser women tried to please him. "Little cocksucker."

I still had him an inch inside when we heard Denise's bedroom door slam. Jesus, my mind raged. Again? A little fucking privacy, just a bit, as I wrecked this man; was that too much to ask? But he showed no signs of pulling out when I glanced up, making me wonder who was wrecking whom. I heard her bedsprings creak as she sat, and when I looked back up Cam's body I saw thoughtfulness in his look.

So I took him deep again.

"Perfect." His voice was a very low rumble, felt as much as heard, his scar twitching with his sudden grin. He thrust this time, gagging me, my control slipping. "Take it while she listens," he continued, a savage little twist in his murmur. "Take it all." And I did, his balls against my chin, shaking my head with his dick stuffing my mouth while my fingers played with his ass and balls, his hand confident as it guided my head.

An excellent morning.

"I like that," he hissed, "you gagging on my meat while little sister hangs out on the other side of the wall." We could hear her rummaging, the clink of earrings in the bowl on the bedside table. Footsteps mincing around. I slurped up off him and joined in, talking with a quiet smile while my hand pulled on his spitty flesh.

"She'll wonder all day why I keep blinking," I snickered, "and it'll be because you came in my eye." I kissed his head, loving its flavor. He was spasming, constantly, in my hand. It wouldn't be long now.

"I told you," he snapped, his face darkening, "I've got my own ideas where I want to cum."

I met his gaze evenly, my pussy gushing, my back straight for him. "We shouldn't."

"But we're going to," he whispered savagely, and I nodded back at him. Of course we were going to. And that's when Denise chose to knock on the door.

"You in there, Anna?" Another knock. "Finish up. I need to pee."

I smiled, crafty, my hand full of her man's naked ass. "I might be a little while," I called, nipping at Cam's fingers as he stroked my face. His penis was a throbbing, meaty idol for me to worship. "Go upstairs to Mom's room."

"Fuck that. Dad's still asleep."

"Then you'll just have to wait," I shrugged, Cam and I grinning at each other. "Hold it." His face took on an urgent, predatory look as he took my arm and pulled me upward, my legs straightening without even a moment's hesitation. I drifted into his arms, our bodies glued together as his lips crashed into mine.