“This is the end. Beautiful friend.” Jim Morrison sang to me through Jeremy’s speakers. Jim did things to me with his voice that most men couldn’t achieve with both their hands and lips. Jeremy snapped his book shut, thus ending the pretense of studying for our final.
One last test for the last class of the last semester before graduating. Finally, college was over. Now the student loans and worry of employment could begin- adulthood.
An evil grin greeted me as I leaned over the couch and brought my lips to Jeremy’s. He tasted like pecan ice cream. My favorite. He tangled his hand in my hair and deepened the kiss. Tongue kissing usually grossed me out, but Jeremy knew his way around a woman. And Jim set the perfect atmosphere.
I pulled free of his grip and slipped down to the floor. Keeping my hands on his jean clad thighs. He licked his bottom lip and nodded. Like I needed his permission. Jim had control of me now. He unbuckled his jeans and pulled his dick out with ease. It was my turn to lick my lips.
I wrapped my short fingers around the base of his shaft, at the thickest part. Applying delicate pressure, I ran my hand upward until a small bead of moisture eased out of the head. I looked up to be sure his deep blue eyes watched me. They did. His cheeks looked a little flushed. I licked the bead off with the very tip of my tongue. He groaned.
“My only friend, the end.” Jim sang into my ear. I took Jeremy into my mouth, immediately suckling him as I did so. My petite hands made quick work of stroking him while I toyed with him using only my tongue. He sounded as though he were in pain, but I knew better. He was close.
Not one to be completely selfless, I jumped up from the floor and landed on his lap. The reason I never wear panties and always where sundresses. It’s California- the heat and all.
He sank deep into me as I moved downward on him. His hands grabbed at my tits. It was my turn to groan. I let the music wash over us, moving my hips with the rhythm of the band. Our breathing the only other sound in the room. Frantic for my own finish and feeling his closing in on us, I ground my hips into his as I rode him.
He arched upward at me, off the couch. Holding my hips as he did so. We moved together. I threw my head back, a signal. He pumped into my roughly, and pinched my ass. I unleashed, riding him even harder and crying out my release. As I began to ease in my movements, he hurried in his. I looked at him, knowing what would drive him over the edge. I tilted my head and bit the corner of my lower lip, moaning softly. His eyes rolled back, his hands gripped tighter. One hard thrust and he found his own oblivion.
We sat together on the couch, entangled in each others arms. He smelled good. He felt good. Jim finished his song and rolled away from us.
“You wanna take a walk on the beach?” Jeremy whispered in my ear.
Confession: Jim Morrison does in fact do this very thing to me. I can’t explain it and my husband has exploited this fact numerous times over the course of our relationship.
I didn’t have time this morning for an edit so I hope it read decently enough. Now head over to Tom’s for this weeks hot entries and don’t forget to comment for each of them. Let them know you read it and liked it…or didn’t, either way we love to hear from our readers.