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Dirty Girl Interrupted

Date: 9/21/2015, Categories: College Sex, Author: Metilda, Rating: 23, Source: LushStories

get there—to my room. Damnit, I needed to pick up where I left off. Expecting the house to be full and me having to sneak off to my room and try to focus on just myself, I was pleasantly surprised to find the drive empty. The truck was gone. No one was home. But that excited relief was drawn up short when I clicked the key and shoved the front door open. They were all there. Sitting around, staring mindlessly at the TV and then at me as I stepped inside—desperately wanting to run off. Rency’s eyebrows wrinkled with concern. “Everything okay?” “Yeah, sure. I just forgot something.” Rency and Trace both turned their attention back to the TV, but Jasper’s eyes fell just a little to my chest. His eyes on me always sent a spark of a thrill trough me. Gay or not, he’s hot as hell. Can’t deny that. And he knows —the thought screamed at me. “Okay!” I could feel myself shattering into pieces under the stress. Everyone’s eyes snapped to me as I stalked through the room, ranting. “So Trace caught me getting off on the couch. Not a big deal. Not as if you’ve never done it—Jasper.” I glared at him as I shoved my bedroom door open. “Well have fun in there!” John called out after me, returning the attitude I had in my voice. Taken over by some strange, perverted rage, I shut the door and leaned against it. Quickly, I slipped my fingers inside the waistband of my jeans. The small jolts of pleasure that raced under my skin were a relief all on their own, and the faster I moved my fingers the ... more intense the sensation became. Right at any moment, I’d come. So needful for it, I could feel it build—and build—and build—and build— And no matter how hard I rubbed at my clit and finger fucked myself, I couldn’t come. Not even when I clenched my eyes shut and focused on Coffee Shop Guy, his voice when he ordered and the way he smelled. Even that didn’t work. I ended up an emotional mess, leaning against the door—breathless and crying with frustration. I didn’t stop crying until a soft knock caught my attention. I stayed put, my arms crossed, and sucked in deep breaths to stop the emotional flood. “Amy?” It was Trace, obviously on a mission to make everything okay. “Piss off.” “I brought you coffee.” Coffee? “Is it made with milk or cream?” “Milk.” Christ, I couldn’t say no to that, could I? Reluctantly, I opened the door and let him in. He was saying something, I think, about how I was overreacting but he understood. Cup in hand, sipping lightly, I watched his Adam’s Apple bob while he talked, fighting back the compulsion to reach out for him. His blond eyebrow shot up and he tilted his head to catch my attention. “Are you listening to me, or are you just staring at my neck to avoid my eyes?” “Sorry... I’m distracted.” I wiped a hand over my face but the smell on my fingers didn’t chase away need, it only made it worse. “By what?” I sighed, feeling my give-a-damn die off. “By the orgasm I didn’t have. Of course. ” I turned and clunked the mug on my dresser. “You know... ...