A Mess of Reason (16 page)

“If you’re not soaking wet, I’ll go on,
baby, but your eyes are dilated, you’re panting, you’re cheeks are
flushed, and while my fingers aren’t on your clit, I’m gonna put a
thousand bucks on the fact that it’s beating faster than a hare
gettin’ chased by a dog right about now. Prove me wrong and I’ll go
on to ravish you with some serious verbal cunt-licking. Come on,
now…your turn show me the goods.”

“I hate you.”

“I know. I hate you too. I’m just playing by
by the rules. Looks like you need a little SPF-50, baby.”

Two can play at this game. I can fucking
boot camp him under the table. I rest my hands on the top of my
head, messing my hair up, staring him down all the while. He thinks
he’s written the bible on flirting. Ha! Then he moves in and
spreads my legs apart again, takes a solid swig of his beer, then
sets it down and cages me again with his arms. Okay, so maybe he
has.

Fuck, he smells good right now…like sex and
the tiniest trace of his vetiver cologne mixed with black pepper.
Just fucking fuck me already. I want so badly to lick his neck. But
instead I continue on with my counterattack mission. I drag my
hands down onto my cheekbones, then I open one hand and skate it
across my open mouth, tonguing my palm provocatively. The smile on
his face is a-fucking-dorable. As in, stud times a gazillion. His
eyes never leave mine as I bring my hands around to the back of
neck, arching my chest towards him shamelessly. Then I touch my
breasts all come hither as possible while panting and saying his
name like I will someday when he’s fucking me and I’m about to
come. Oh, you know it, sister: I play up the tease like I’m working
a pole in Vegas.

“Scout, oh God, Scout. I…I’m so…” Naturally
he plays along. I’m dead. He’s winning. Of course I’m keeping
score. Remember, bitches, I won the bull riding nationals in high
school. I’m competitive if nothing else.

“Yeah, baby. Oh Tess…so fucking hot…so wet…
I’ll bet you’re so tight. Now, show me, baby…show me your sweet
cream.” Such a fucker, isn’t he? One I want in me. But a fucker no
less.

Then he takes another drink of his beer as
his eyes rake up and down my body as if he’s about to eat me with
them. I wish to hell he’d just slam me back and get on with it, but
no. He cages me again. His hands are next to my thighs. Then on top
of my knees. Then just above my knee, moving… I’m wetter than ever.
Ever
. Hopeful as all get out.

His PhD in seduction shines like a beacon.
His hands are sliding slowly and he’s so close…so sweetly close. I
know it’s about to get risky as he stops and slides his palms
between my thighs, pushing them open a tiny bit further, his pinky
fingers brushing straight across my clit. And yes, I moan because
I’m so dammed turned on that my voice slams through the
do-not-enter-this-sex-zone barracks like they’re made of Jell-O.
Then he forces my thighs even wider, pushing them as far apart as
they can go in the position I’m sitting. I look down and see my red
panties and his gorgeous masculine hands still there, right
there…seconds away from sliding straight into me.

“Show me, Tess…show me how wet you are for
me, show me how my verbal fuck made your pussy soaking wet for me.
I want to see you pull that fabric aside.” His words take raw
possession of me, the ache of my desire sinfully erotic.

“Scout.”

“Tess.” He’s whispering to me; it’s dark,
throaty, sexy…and my heart is turning over while my body is aching
for his touch. His nearness is an invitation that completely
overwhelms me.

“Touch me, Scout. Feel me there…please,” I
beg him as if nothing else matters in the world.

“You know I can’t do that, Tess. That would
be cheating on your fiancé.”

His fingers are on the lace panel right
between my legs. Rubbing me tenderly, he knows exactly what he’s
doing.

“If I moved your panties aside right now and
slid a finger deeply inside your tight little cunt to see how wet
my words made you, it really would be unfair to him. You’re not the
cheating type, Tess. You’re a good girl…a naughty, sexy-good
girl.”

He says this in my ear, with his lips
touching me, his tongue licking my earlobe all the while. I feel
his hot breath on my neck but he never kisses it—he only breathes
on it—and I’m going as crazy as a shit-house rat on the inside. His
fingers are circling my clit, still over the lace: he can feel the
wet, all right, but he won’t let me off the hook. And—this one is
off the record—my skydiving adventures are nearly over with him, as
I’m experiencing double parachute failure on my current mission of
want. I’m as close to coming as I’ve ever been with only outside
touching.

“Scout,” I plead as my forehead falls
against his.

“Come on, baby, you’re teasing me… Do you
like that, making me wait so long to see how wet your pussy is?
You’re not playing fair, Tess—you’re breaking the game rules.
That’s kind of like lying…and you know I don’t like it when you lie
to me, gorgeous.”

He steps backwards a little bit and looks
into my eyes, then down between my legs. He’s not smiling, but his
eyes are glowing with a savage fire. I find my gaze locked on his
smoking guns sitting like ammo in his gray T-shirt, looking all
hard and flexed…somehow they, too, seem to be fucking me. He takes
a hand to his face, tracing one finger along his wet bottom lip.
Back and forth, slowly taunting me as though he’s dragging it along
my naked, wet clit.

But I’m clear as ever. He’s never going to
do it. He’s never going to pull my panties aside, slide his fingers
in, and touch me where I most want him. Nope. He’s going to torture
me and I deserve it. I’m playing him, using him. He knows it. He
doesn’t deserve it, but I can’t seem to help myself…he makes me
crazy.

I take my hand and I slide down into the top
of my panties, dragging it across my soaked slit. As I pull my hand
out, I jump off the counter and take one step toward him, which
puts me right in front of him. And yes…I take my dripping fingers
covered with my cream and place them on his lips, dragging them
back and forth slowly, coating him with my juices…then I slide them
all the way inside of his mouth.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

SCOUT

She’s heartless, bold as a bull…and I love
her for it. Her slender fingers fuck my mouth with her
slickness—the only pussy I want to taste, want to fuck. Torturing
me. Gutting me unfairly. It’s cruel and exquisite and
holy-fucking-take-the wheel delicious. Slowly she plunges her two
fingers in and out of my mouth, circling my tongue provocatively as
she eyes me with her best
I want your cock inside of me
look.

I grab her wrist, pull her fingers out of my
mouth. The taste of her on my tongue lingers, shattering me.
Because she tastes like heaven; she tastes like something the
angels would create; she tastes like she owns me. And truly she
does. Every single fiber of my being.

“Such a bitch, Tess.” I know every
expression she has and this one…it’s a hot spark of reaction.

I wreathe her tiny waist, pick her up, then
place her back onto the countertop. She needs to know how much
she’s killing me. I can play the torture game, too, even more than
I just did. I want to love her…I want her to let him go and love
me. But she won’t do it. She can’t.

“You want this, don’t you?” I spread her
legs and I slide my hand down inside the front of her panties, all
the while my eyes looking into the smolder of hers. She licks her
lips as her head falls back the tiniest bit, while her chest rises
and falls as she inhales deeply. My fingers skate across her tiny
whisper of hair, down over her hard clit, between her soaking wet
lips. I plunge two fingers inside of her opening, deeply—so fucking
deeply—while my thumb works her clit.

“Scout…I… Oh God, yes…fuck, yeah.”

She needs to know this is what it could be
like for us. This is what she’s leaving on the table. This is what
I can do to her. The exact same thing she does to me. She’s going
to find out in a second how much it hurts, though. I’m sorry to be
doing it, but she needs to know.

“You’re standing in the way of us,” I tell
her as I finger-fuck her so beautifully. She’s writhing. So I grab
her left foot and bring it up onto the countertop, giving me even
more access. Then I scoot her ass right to me, putting her other
knee up to her chest, pinning her this way as I pull my fingers out
and look at her as she drowns in my power.

“Don’t stop…please.” She’s desperate.
Drop-dead desperate.

I look at her sitting there, legs spread,
knees at her chest, panties still on. And I do it. I rip them
straight off of her in one quick tear. She dying to kiss me but I
won’t. I can’t. If I kiss her, I’m done. It’s enough that I’m
burying three fingers now, knuckle-deep into her.

“You’ve closed the door on me, Tess,” I tell
her as I explore every inch of her with my slippery fingers.

“No…I haven’t,” she moans quietly, and it’s
evident as hell: every hormone in her body is awake.

“You have…and you know it. You’ve closed it
on us. But you want this… You. Want. This. You want me to do this
to you. You want me to fuck your little tight cunt.”

Her lips are quivering, her eyes rolling
back as she drinks every word like a fine cognac.

“And you love it, Tess. You love that I’m
buried up inside of you, and you want to come, don’t you, baby? Oh
Tess…so wet and tight… I can tell, Tessie, you’re so, so close to
coming for me.”

“Scout…oh…” She can barely speak as her head
collapses into me.

She so fucking aroused I can tell she
seconds from coming. And yes, she’s going to hate me in a second or
so.

“Scout, oh God, kiss me…Scout…I’m…oh…” Her
lips are chasing all over my face as her nails pierce into my arm.
I give her a couple more slow, deep fucks, moving my fingers inside
of her like a heat-seeking missile that’s found its target.

“Yeah, Tess…just like that baby. So good, so
sexy… Now listen, love…listen closely.”

I keep my fingers inside of her but I slow
the fucking, and she’s dying. I’ll admit it’s a gorgeous death if
ever there was one. My thumb is just barely on her clit, because I
can’t have her coming. Cruel, so cruel, but I have no choice…she’s
done this to herself.

“I know you want this; I know it feels good.
And my God, Tess, to have my fingers inside of you, to make you
feel good…to watch you like this…to have your cream on my lips and
lingering on my tongue…it’s fucking all I’ve ever wanted. You’re so
beautiful…so delicious. But here’s the thing, sweetheart: you need
to make a choice. Do you hear me, baby? A choice. You get him…or
you get this.”

And that’s the end of that story. That’s
what my balls feel like, all the fucking time. I grab my beer off
the counter and head out to the hot tub. Because right about now
it’s all I can handle. An icy cold blizzard, under a night sky, the
heat of the tub, my beer, and the taste of her still on my
lips…still in my mouth. Branded on my soul.

*

About ten minutes later, Tess strolls out.
She has a new pair of panties on and a T-shirt. She’s surprisingly
carrying the game and two beers. She climbs into the tub, setting
the game on the edge, hands me a beer, then sits right next me, her
shoulders touching mine.

“That wasn’t very nice.” She slugs me in the
chest, then rams her shoulder into mine.

“Oh, really? I thought it was very nice.
Beautiful, in fact. You, my girl, have one very pretty little cunt.
And wet—my God, do you get wet. And sweet. You taste like heaven.
So pink and swollen. And might I add, you’re tight. I mean
tight-tight, that’s nice. I love a tight, wet cunt that’s also
gorgeous. You didn’t have to put new panties on for me…I mean, I’m
happy to look at your naked ass and fresh, raw pussy all night. Not
gonna touch it again, though. Nope. Well, unless you’ve made some
choices, that is. Then I’ll do more than touch it…I’ll consume
it…ravish it. I’ll lick you until beg me to stop giving you
orgasms. Then I’ll make love to you. Then after that, I’ll fuck you
hard…all night long if you’d like. But you didn’t think it was very
nice, anyway, so I guess we’re good then, huh?”

“Such an asshole.”

“Such a bitch.”

“Wanna keep playing? It’s still my
bachelorette party.”

“Sure. Same game or Pin the Junk on the
Hunk?”

Amazing, isn’t she? I marvel at the fact
that she can’t even talk about it. The wedding, that is. Well, now
she knows she can’t have her cake and eat it too. Or, shall I say,
can’t have her cock and eat it too. But fair is fair. I can’t have
her cunt and eat it, either. I’ll keep playing the games, though.
This is kind of fun, watching her squirm.

“It’s my turn,” she says, smiling. I can’t
help but wonder if she’ll be taking a step back now or not. “My
card says, ‘In the next fifteen minutes, have an orgasm in front of
the person sitting closest to you. No faking.’ Well, lucky me. Too
bad my vibrator isn’t waterproof.”

“You can use your hands. Oh, I’m gonna like
this one, Tess. Better than a football game. A fresh beer in the
hot tub and you getting off in a blizzard. This is live porn,
ladies and gentlemen.”

“You know I can get off anyway I like—those
are the rules.” Forget the step back, I guess. She’s her own
blizzard, but at some point here the bank of snow she’s crashed
into is going to give her frostbite.

“Well, good, then get chopping. I think it
said fifteen minutes, right? The clock’s a-ticking, baby.”

“Fine, I think I’ll use you.” She’s no
cornered animal, my Tess.

“How’s that? I don’t vibrate, and I’m not
gonna touch you. You just gonna impale yourself on me? I’m not even
hard right now so that’s gonna be a challenge. You’re welcome to
open your legs on my mouth, of course, but I’m not going to be
participating. My tongue will stay firmly planted inside of my
closed mouth. But if you just want to rub that sweet cunt of yours
over my lips, then who am I to object? Hell, I’ll even help you out
and tip my head back, if you’d like.”