The Loft Game: Barney

When he felt the strain leave me and my hands relax their death-grip, he lowered me to the mattress. I looked at the grinning, Charl-soaked lips and cheeks, and grinned back.

"Now you," I said.

"You just told me to fuck you."

"You will," I promised. "But first you." My usual disinclinations were set aside. The combination of alcohol and deprivation; the lingering adrenaline-rush of my exhibition that evening; the anticipation of what the new year would bring; most of all, the not-quite-enough feeling that accompanied getting eaten but not laid, both now and with Josh ... I was on fire, and I was going to pay back what Carter just did for me in spades.

I pushed myself up to a sitting position. "Take your shirt off." He stripped it over his head, high above me. While his arms were engaged, my fingers went to work on his belt buckle. I pulled down his jeans, looser than a woman's, easier to lower. Running a hand over the cock outlined in his shorts, I kissed as high on his torso as I could reach while sitting, then a line down his abdomen. Hooking fingers in the elastic, I drew his underwear down at the pace my mouth moved.

When the purple head emerged, I kissed it too and continued the descent. Inch by inch until I laid a final kiss, then another, right on his scrotum. His underwear fell to the floor. I reached behind and cupped his cheeks in my hands, let him feel the warmth of my breath on his body. "Try to stay standing," I teased. Then I took him in my mouth.

I sucked and licked and stroked, keeping the pace slow, striving for depth and maximum mouth-to-cock contact. I pulled with my hands against his ass, squeezing my fingers tight on each inward stroke. I hummed, just a little vibrato, each time he got close to the back of my mouth. I used every trick three high school boyfriends, one September hookup, and ten minutes with Josh had taught me.

"I'm going to come," he warned.

"Then come," I broke off long enough to tell him. Just as he had driven me wild with an increased intensity against my clit, my tongue against his frenulum now fluttered into overdrive. I felt the trembling in the heavy thighs and butt muscles. I felt the hand land on the top of my head to steady suddenly unstable legs. My lips felt that first, dry jerk that guys give. And then my mouth was filling with a warm, salty taste. I didn't mind. I was in the zone. I sucked him off and swallowed eagerly.

"Jeez, Chips."

I looked up at the face of a man temporarily spent, his breath still coming in little pants. I grinned and moved backward, drawing him after me onto the bed. He slid up alongside me, one hand sliding underneath so that my head was on his shoulder, the other landing on my stomach before ascending to cup my breast.

"I guess you might need a small break," I teased.

"A little."

"Well, after you catch your breath, if you need something to occupy you ..." I took the hand cupping my breast and moved it down so it was heavy on my sex. I used my fingers to press down on his so that they curled in between my legs.

"I'll keep that in mind if I need something." He pulled his hand out from under mine and very deliberately put it back on my breast. "But I want these to occupy me for a bit." At my little mew, he laughed. "Patience." His fingers found the nipple, rolled it firmly. I gasped. "Good gasp or too much?"

"Good."

He did it again. He turned, and his mouth descended onto the other side, catching the nipple between his lips ... then between his teeth in a grip just on the good side of pressure. His tongue flicked against the captive and I gasped some more.

"That's ... uh ... you're allowed to keep doing that."

I felt the chuckle rumble up from his belly and vibrate against the soft flesh he had in his mouth. He played with my breasts until I knew they'd be tender in the morning, but good tender. Then he widened the compass of his attention. His hand descended of its own volition this time, tracing lightly over ribs and navel, skipping to stroke the inside of thighs and urge them farther apart. Fingers returned to my pussy. They toyed along the outer lips before delving into the hot, dripping depths.

"I'll make a bet with you," he whispered around the nipple he was nibbling.

"What? Now? I made enough bets with you this evening."

His fingers stilled. "I'll make a bet with you," he repeated.

"Okay, fine, but ..." I bumped my pelvis upward to let him know what he was supposed to be doing in the meantime.

"Pick a number between one and five."

"Four."

"If I make you come four more times tonight, you give me a wake-up blowjob in the morning. If I don't, I go down on you."

I laughed. Not a risky bet, just some verbal foreplay.

"Deal. Your first one's a gimme"—I pumped my pelvis again—"but you're going to have to work for the others."

He finger-fucked me. His mouth roamed over mine, inhaling my gasps and moans. His thumb rode my clit. His middle finger rhythmically buried inside me to the pace my hips demanded. One.

Two came with me beneath him. I felt a moment of apprehension in that first moment, when he moved above me, kneed my thighs farther apart, and set the tip against me. It's been a while.

But I had no choice. His hips were between my legs; his hands were on my wrists, not hurting, but pinning; his hard cock was at my entrance. He was going to fuck me now, barring anything but a firm "No!" and a demand that he get off me. Yeah, that's not gonna happen. Then the first plunge, easy given how wet I was, stretching me, filling me, and the worries fled.

Every one of those thrusts was delicious. I let my hips do what they wanted: rise to meet his motion, pushing back at him. I stared into his eyes from a foot away, totally aware of the man above me yet completely focused on the sensations lower. "Harder," I whispered. He obliged. I thrust my arms straight up the bed, stretching my torso out, arching my head back. I could see his eyes go to my tits as they rose and fell and swayed with my motion. I reveled in his expression.

"I'm going to come," it was my turn to say. Not a warning. A promise.

"Then come," he echoed my earlier words.

My legs scaled up his body. I locked my ankles behind him, urging him in, helping him drive into me. Again he heard the long, drawn-out moan of "Fuuuck ..." as I went rigid. He kept up, slowing as I came down from the high.

"Did you?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Not yet. I want you to come again. How about you on top?"

"If you want."

He stopped and studied my face. "No, not if I want. We just did what I wanted. What do you want?"

"On my stomach. Prone," I said tentatively.

"Okay." He pulled out of me, bringing an involuntary "ooh" of disappointment. He laughed. "Roll over." Hands came down on either side of my shoulders. I felt knees on the outside of my thighs. "Lift just a slight bit for a moment."

I felt the head of his cock search down between my butt cheeks, slide lower, find the opening. He paused and adjusted his position. Then he plunged down firmly. The head of his cock nailed my G-spot. A long, sibilant "Yesss" left my lips.

I'm sure that nothing more coherent than "uh" left my mouth after that. My eyes were closed as he devastated me. This was going to be a grandmother of one; I could feel it. I slid my hand underneath and started frigging myself in time with his thrusts. The sound of his breathing getting shallower and faster egged me on.

No words this time. No drawn-out "fuuuck" signaling my release. I simply screamed into the mattress below me as I came, biting the sheet to smother the sound. Seconds after it started, before my pussy stopped clenching his cock, I heard his answering groan and knew he was coming too.

As I started to come down from the white noise inside my mind, I felt the intimate sensation of warmth and extra-wetness. I loved that, the feeling after a guy came in me. Yeah, it would be messy in a moment, but for that little bit, those few seconds, I always felt primal and satisfied and, I don't know, like my instincts were saying, Yeah, THAT'S the way it happens.

Though not any time soon! my mind added with a laugh. Knock on wood.

I twisted underneath him to look at his face. We smiled. I saw the heavy eyes. "You look like you need a nap, and that's only three," I said.

"Prolactin."

"Pro-what-the-fuck?"

"Prolactin. Hormone that men's bodies release during sex and makes us sleepy."

"Did you look that up just to bullshit women with?"

He grinned and shook his head no. "I'm pre-med. It's true."

"Well, nerds get the wet spot." I squirmed over to a drier part of the bed and let him curl up around me. "But it's only three."

I wasn't sure what woke me. Then I heard it again, a woman's moan coming through the wall between us and the other bedroom. I giggled and rolled over. Carter was awake, his suppressed laugh mirroring mine. Number four came cowgirl because he said, "I'm not doing all the work tonight, you lazy wench."

A car horn somewhere out there woke me just as the sun was pushing over the horizon. I was momentarily disoriented: not my bed, not my room, a gentle snore coming from beside me. Then it came back to me. Some tender body parts filled in some of the specifics that alcohol might have left fuzzy. I certainly felt more relaxed than I'd felt in months.

I slid quietly and carefully out of the bed and drew on my clothes. I turned back to the man huddled up under the covers. It wasn't the mood of last night, but I didn't super mind.

I blew him into writhing wakefulness. I left with an arched eyebrow, a fingertip wiping an imaginary drop from the side of my mouth, and a wave. I had finals to study for. But a bet's a bet.

I hope you enjoyed it.

At some point—again, no timetable at the moment—Chips & Co. will be back, tentatively titled The Loft Game-Elf on a Shelf.