1. Beef with Broccoli


    Date: 2/12/2016, Categories: Fiction, Blowjob, Erotica, Written by women, Author: CandyXLove, Rating: 92.9, Source: sexstories.com

    door and I stand at the counter, but he might as well still be in St. Louis for how far it feels. He shakes his head. "I can't believe I did this." "What?" "Barged into your apartment because I knew where it was. God, I'm a creep. You just wanted to watch a movie. Fuck." He looks around, as if he needs the door but has forgotten where it is. "Valentine's Day. What was I thinking? This was a mistake, I'm sorry." He's going to leave. He's going to leave if I don't do something, and my feet are as rooted in place as one of the girls in my horror movies while I'm yelling at them to get out of the basement. "No, don't," I step in front of him before he can move away from the fridge. I don't have a plan for what to say or what to do. I just can't imagine letting him leave, leave bad like this, without at least feeling the heat of his body through his t-shirt. I touch his chest with just the fingers of my right hand and trail them down across his flat stomach to his waistband, then push back up along the same path with the palm of my hand until it rests over his heart. His eyes are very dark, almost black. "I already scooped two bowls of ice cream." We push toward each other to kiss, like something from a better movie than the one I've been watching. Our lips slot tentatively together, shift, contact again. His hand is on the small of my back. I suck that gorgeous, full lower lip of his into my mouth and run my tongue across it, graze it with my teeth. He tries my mouth with ...
    darting pushes of his tongue and I answer with mine. I'm glad he's a good kisser. I'm elated he doesn't taste like a Saint Paul sandwich. Jay tilts my chin up with his cheek and kisses down my throat, across to the side of my neck. He sucks gently at the skin where my neck meets my shoulder, then moves back up to tease my ear with his tongue. I slide my hand up his chest to touch his hair. Jesus H. Christ, it is exactly as soft as it looks, winnowed between my fingers. I hear him set his beer down on the stove beside us to free up his other hand. It's cold, sliding up my arm from my elbow to hook a thumb under the strap of my tank top. He strokes the satin shoulder strap of my bra. He presses his forehead against mine. "Do you have any idea how much I thought about this black bra of yours coming up those goddamn stairs?" I can feel the bulge in his jeans, just over the drawstring knot in my plaid flannel pajama pants. If I don't slow this down, I'm going to be bent over the stove in ten minutes. I wouldn't mind that at all, but not just yet. I kiss him and cover his hand with mine to stop it from following the line of my bra strap any lower. "Our ice cream is melting." He takes my cue to put on the brakes and goes to retrieve his beer. "We'd better eat it, then." We sit on the couch and I re-start Scream Bloody Death from the beginning, even though Jay insists we can watch something else. The strawberry ice cream is already soft and a little gloopy, so we eat it quickly before he ...
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