My heart’s practically bursting through my ribcage as Ashley’s tongue slides against mine, her naked body pressed against me like she’s trying to crawl inside my skin.
It’s been a week since our arrangement started. Seven days of “practice.” Each session leaves me more confused than the last about what we’re really doing here.
“Put it in,” she whispers against my mouth, her fingers digging into my shoulders.
“Okay,” I manage, positioning myself between her thighs, trying desperately to focus on anything but how good this feels.
The moment I push inside her, that familiar overwhelming sensation crashes over me like a tidal wave. Every nerve ending fires at once, pleasure short-circuiting my brain. I tense up, my body betraying me in the most humiliating way possible as I start cumming hard.
Ashley pushes her hips up against mine, driving me deeper as I pulse inside her. It’s this little sadistic thing she does, making my embarrassment even more intense by forcing me to feel every second of my failure. Neither of us is kissing now. She’s just watching my face contort with pleasure and shame.
“You’re really struggling to beat those premature ejaculation allegations, huh?”
My face burns hotter than the surface of the sun. “Stop. It’s already so bad.”
She laughs softly, pulling me down for another kiss. Her tongue gentle now, almost comforting despite her teasing. When she pulls back, there’s something softer in her eyes.
“It’s okay,” she says, her voice softening as she traces her finger along my jawline. “As long as you can get hard again for me just like you always do.”
“You can, right?” she continues, her voice taking on this weird maternal tone that should be creepy but somehow isn’t. “Since you’re my good boy, you can definitely get hard again for me, can’t you?”
Something about the way she says “good boy” sends electricity shooting down my spine. It’s like she’s flipped some hidden switch inside me that only she knows about. My breath catches in my throat as I feel myself responding immediately, hardening inside her even though I just came seconds ago.
“Jesus,” I whisper, amazed at my body’s reaction to her words.
“Vincent,” she laughs, shifting her hips experimentally against mine. “You are so easy.”
I should be embarrassed. I should want to crawl into a hole and die. But instead, my hips start moving on their own, small thrusts that make both of us gasp.
“Shut up,” I mutter, but there’s no heat behind it.
She pulls me down for another kiss, deeper this time, hungrier. Her tongue slides against mine as I start to move with purpose now, finding a rhythm that makes her breath hitch. This feels different from our other times, less mechanical, less like we’re just going through the motions of practice.
“That’s it,” she breathes against my mouth, her legs wrapping around my waist to pull me deeper.
I lose myself in the sensation, in the heat of her body beneath mine, around mine. The wet sounds of our bodies meeting, the little gasps she makes when I hit just the right spot. It’s intoxicating.
“Harder,” she commands suddenly, her voice breathy but demanding.
I drive into her with more force, my body responding to her command before my brain can even process it. The bed frame creaks in protest beneath us.
“You feel so good,” I breathe out, the words escaping before I can stop them.
Our eyes lock, and for a split second, something electric passes between us. Something that feels dangerously close to genuine connection. My heart stutters in my chest.
“Don’t flirt with me,” she warns, but her voice lacks any edge.
“I wasn’t,” I protest weakly. “I was just…“
She closes her eyes, breaking whatever moment we might have been having. “Come on, I said harder, Vincent.” Her voice hardens again, all business. “Dante isn’t going to make love to me. He’s going to fuck me into a puddle. I need to be ready.”
The mention of his name is like a bucket of ice water. Right. This isn’t real. This is practice for Dante. For Caroline.
I grip her hips tighter, my fingers digging into her skin as I slam into her with renewed force. Each thrust is punishing now, driven by a strange cocktail of desire and hurt I don’t want to examine too closely.
“Like this?” I growl, surprising myself with how rough my voice sounds.
“Yes,” she gasps, her head thrown back, exposing the elegant line of her throat. “God, yes. Just like that.”
I drop my head to her neck, my lips finding that sensitive spot just below her ear. She moans immediately, her fingers digging deeper into my shoulders. The sound vibrates against my lips, making my hips stutter in their rhythm.
“God, Vincent,” she gasps, tilting her head to give me better access.
I drag my teeth lightly across her skin, testing her reaction. When her whole body shudders beneath me, I grow bolder, sucking gently on the delicate skin.
“You can leave marks,” she whispers, her voice hitching as I thrust particularly deep. “We’re supposed to be dating, remember? Gotta sell it.”
Right. The pretending. I close my eyes and suck harder. There’s something primal and possessive about marking her like this, even if it’s just for show. Even if it’s all fake.
I trail kisses down the column of her throat, leaving little red marks in my wake.
Ashley’s body suddenly tenses beneath me. Her back arches, pushing her breasts against my chest as she starts to tremble.
“Vincent,” she gasps, her voice breaking. “I’m… I’m cumming!”
Her inner walls clench around me in rhythmic pulses, gripping my cock like a vice. The sensation is incredible. Warm, wet pressure squeezing me from all directions. I can’t look away from her face, her eyes half-lidded and unfocused, mouth slightly open, cheeks flushed pink.
She pulls my face down to hers, kissing me desperately as she moans into my mouth. Her entire body shudders with each wave of pleasure, her thighs trembling against my hips. I can feel every contraction around my cock, each one threatening to push me over the edge.
“Cum with me,” she whispers against my lips, her eyes finding mine.
“I’m not ready.”
Ashley cradles my face in her hands, her expression softening. “Be a good boy and cum with me,” she breathes, her voice taking on that maternal tone that does inexplicable things to my insides.
Those words trigger something instinctual in me. My hips jerk forward involuntarily, my rhythm faltering.
“Oh fuck,” I groan as the pressure builds and then explodes. I’m pouring everything into her, my entire body shuddering as pleasure crashes through me in waves. My vision blurs at the edges as I empty myself completely.
We kiss again and again, hungry and desperate, like we’re trying to devour each other. Her hands are everywhere, in my hair, on my back, gripping my ass to keep me deep inside her. I can’t tell where I end and she begins anymore. It’s not just our bodies connected. For this brief, perfect moment, it feels like something more.
Ashley suddenly pulls away with a gasp, breaking our kiss. She presses her palms against my chest, creating space between us.
“Alright, alright. No more,” she pants, gently pushing me out of her.
A cold wave of anxiety washes over me as I roll to the side. “Did I do something wrong?” My voice comes out smaller than I intended, betraying the sudden panic tightening my chest.
“No...” She shakes her head, hair sticking to her flushed cheeks. “We’re just... it was just a lot of kissing.”
“Okay...” I nod too quickly, my heart hammering against my ribs. The familiar spiral of self-doubt wraps around my thoughts like a vise. “Next time I’ll do less?” I offer, desperately trying to fix whatever I broke.
“No, no, it’s fine,” Ashley says, running a hand through her tousled hair. “I just... I have to study. Alright?”
Her sudden shift in demeanor makes my stomach knot, but I nod anyway. “Yeah, okay.”
I swing my legs off the bed, hyperaware of my nakedness as I search for my clothes. My boxers have somehow ended up halfway under her desk. I grab them and pull them on, then retrieve my jeans from where they were flung over her desk chair.
The silence between us feels heavier than usual as I dress. Ashley watches me from the bed, her expression unreadable, sheets pulled up to cover herself.
“Hey,” she says suddenly as I’m pulling my t-shirt over my head. “This weekend, do you want to try going on a date?”
My heart rate shoots through the roof. “What?!”
Ashley rolls her eyes, but there’s something almost nervous in her gesture. “Well, if we’re pretending to be dating, we should probably learn how to go on dates, right?”
“Yeah...” I say slowly, my mind racing to catch up with this new development.
She pulls the sheet tighter around herself, not quite meeting my eyes. “You don’t want to blow it if you land Caroline.”
I stare at my shoes, focusing on tying the laces so I don’t have to look at Ashley’s face. My fingers feel clumsy, like they belong to someone else.
“Yeah… You’re right.”