Charlotte Chronicles XXIV

April 10, 2014  | Charlotte Chronicles  | (6)

Charlotte

“I’m going to sleep here tonight,” I whisper to Nathan as he and his brother and two other random people on the internet work together to kill enemies on their internet screen. He pauses the game and whips off his VR glasses.

“Hey,” Nick objects but cuts himself off when he sees Nate’s look. Nick says something in his microphone and pushes out of his chair. “I’m going to piss.” 

Nate waves him off. When the door to the game room closes, he turns to me. “How did you get the okay for that?” 

“I ate an entire sandwich today.”

“Is this code?”

I reach for the hair on the nape of his neck and feel him shiver against me. “I told my dad you were responsible for my increased appetite.”
“You didn’t,” he groans but his head dips down in an unspoken gesture for me to pet more of his head. 

Taking advantage of Nick’s absence, I straddle Nathan’s lap ostensibly so I can get a better angle for the head scratching but really I want his body next to mine. He’s so warm all the time. I love it. It’s like having my own personal heater. His hands drop to my hips and pulls me closer until the centers of bodies are flush against each other and this contact heats me up in a completely different way—from the inside out. I start to rub against him, drawing on the memories of our interaction last night. He made me feel amazing and I want to replicate those emotions over and over and over. As many times as I can. 

He groans and tightens his hold on my hips but doesn’t push me away. I tug on the hair at his nape and his face falls back obediently. When I kiss him, his lips are firm and soft and those remind me of that hard length that is pushing insistently against me. We kiss for a long time. They are lazy kisses. The types of kisses you exchange when you have all the time in the world, sitting on the beach or laying on a blanket at a concert in the park. They’re kisses that shut out the whole word so that it’s just you and him and everything on the periphery is a beautiful blur like an Impressionist painting. 

“I need to tell you something,” he says finally pulling away from me. I don’t want to stop and follow him as he draws back. Talking isn’t half as interesting as licking his tongue or having him give me tiny bites along my lower lip. 

I know what it is that he wants to tell me but I don’t really care about that nonsense but he isn’t deterred and pushes me back. With a serious face on, he holds me an arms width away. “Charlotte.” 

“I already know.” I say and when at his surprise, his grip weakens and I dive in for another kiss. 

Nathan dodges me and I end up with my lips on his ear. Fine. I haven’t spent much time here. I wiggle closer and run my tongue along the outer edge and down to his lobe. As I suck, he moans and his fingers clench on my butt. Ohh he likes it there so much. I smile to myself and store this knowledge away. He’s not able to speak until I pause to switch sides.

“Wait,” he pants out. “I have to—”

“That everyone at school thinks I’m pregnant because they know we’re having sex?” 

He tenses and then let’s out a breath, like he’s relieved. “Yeah. Who told you?”

“Greta texted me. Are you the father?”

“Who else?” 

“Would you like that?”

“Yes.”  There’s not a moment of hesitation and it fills me with so much joy that we’d have a family together someday. I can picture us now, taking our kid down to Navy Pier for the first time and riding the carousel. 

“But not now.” I tease him. 

He smirks and presses his lips against the base of my throat which sends a bolt right between my legs. I tip my neck back to give him greater access.  “How many will we have?”

“Two? Ten? I don’t care,” he murmurs against the soft vulnerable skin of my throat. 

“Two. I’m the one having them.”

“Good for me.” He swings me up in his arms. “Let’s go practice.”

I fasten my mouth to his, licking the inside of his mouth so thoroughly I could recreate it from memory. His response is to pick me up and carry me across the hall. The sound of his kicking the door shut no doubt declaring exactly what we’re doing inside his bedroom. 

Alone, we become frenzied. I’m pulling his t-shirt off and he’s got his hands at the buttons of my blouse. Somehow I find myself on my knees before him, pulling his jeans down. His erection is right at my face and it occurs to me that I’ve never done this before. I’ve never wanted to do this before but now, as his shorts jut out in front of me, it’s irresistible. Saliva pools under my tongue. Slowly I slide my hands up his thighs, the light coarse hair unfamiliar under my hands. I didn’t get to touch him enough last night. Above the waistband of his shorts, I see his abdomen contract. The surrounding air is thin as if Nathan has sucked it all inside him.

My fingers stop at the bottom of his boxer briefs and he rocks back slightly on his heels. 

“Do you want me to?” I ask looking up at him through my lashes. His face is shows strain and his eyes glitter in the afternoon light. 

“Only if you want to,” he answers hoarsely. At his side, his fingers are clenched like he wants to reach for me but is holding himself back.

“You’ll have to tell me what to do.” I slip my fingers over his shorts. There’s a wet spot where it looks like the tip of his head is and it’s got me all kinds of curious. Grabbing his waistband, I pull down until his dick is released. It pops out and points straight up. There’s a drop of liquid on the end which grows larger as I stare. In fact, I think his penis is also grower larger or maybe from this angle, so close up, it looks huge. I dab my finger on the fluid and suck it off. 

“Salty,” I say. “Not bad.”

“Shit, Charlotte,” he groans. “You’re killing me.” 

I shrug. “I’m just surprised. Other girls say it’s gross.”

“You don’t have to do this.” But his actions say that he wants it bad. He’s nearly trembling with the effort to not grab my head between his hands. Despite the fact that I’m on my knees, I realize I have so much power over Nathan right now. Like he’d do anything I’d ask of him. 

“I want to.” I stroke my finger over the dark red tip. It’s velvety soft. “I can’t stick the whole thing in my mouth though.” There’s a big vein on the top and I trace that from the top to the root. His dick bobs as if it is almost sentient, seeking more of my touch. 

With a choked laugh, he grabs the base and wraps a big fist around it. “Slide your lips down to the top of my hand.” 

“Where do I put my hands?” I ask wishing it was my hand around the base.

“Anywhere you want.” 

“Here?” I place my hands against his rock hard thighs. 

“Yes,” he pauses and then opens his hand to release himself. “Or you can hold on with both hands.”

I make a circle with my palms and slide them down over his penis. “Like this?”

He stumbles. “Shit. I can’t stand up.” With a breathless laugh, he toes off his jeans that I hadn’t gotten around to completely discarding. He pulls me up to my feet.

“But I want—“ 

He cuts me off with a firm kiss. “I know and so do I but I’m going to fall over because I’m so turned on so if you don’t mind, I’d like to sit on the end of the bed.” 

“You’re going to teach me to give you a good blow job, though, right?”

His eyes bright with desire and laughter, he croaks out. “The best.” 

***

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