clear as day. It was fat, ugly, and so so sensitive. Again, Ashton knew this. I could tell by the way he watched me when he rubbed us together. He started with his head, then rolled his hips so the shaft brushed up. My fists clenched as I stood on my elbows.
“Don’t close your eyes yet, Tori,” he whispered huskily.
“I can’t…”
“Can’t what?”
“Keep them. Open.” I swallowed in between words, the lifting in my stomach started again. My hips rode against the pleasure.
“Why?”
“Because it’s embarrassing.” I breathed. “What you’re doing to me. I can’t help it.”
I heard him chuckle, his voice still thick. “You’re not supposed to. I am.” Ashton kissed my open lips. “I want to see you come again.”
That’s when I opened my eyes. Is that what those things were? I was coming? Like orgasms?
He widened his thighs again and stroked himself while rubbing his dick on my slimy…oasis. Powerhouse. It was a powerhouse because of all the goodness I felt from it.
“Ash…” I lifted my thighs, bracing myself for what I, now, knew was coming.
He pushed my left knee out to open me more, and my right did the same. The minute my feet touched the mattress the fireworks went off again and my body rolled against him again. This time, I was bolder, wanting it, too, until the powerhouse got to be too sensitive and I backed away.
Ashton scooted up the bed for me, licking my titties and sucking my nipples. It was sloppy and wild. He moved up to my neck, hitting sensitive areas as my nails clawed his back, wanting him close. Then he rubbed against me again. Sitting up, he moved his swollen dick over me: on my clit and under it. He used his head and shaft. When he pulled it down so his head was at my opening, my abs scrunched. I wasn’t ready for that, but it felt so good when he circled just his head there, rimming me. This was getting more and more embarrassing by the minute. How did I have all these places on my body making me feel this good and not know? But again, I remembered Ashton was different. He was smart, knew shit. This shit.
He stroked us against my wetness. How did I get this wet? He teased my clit, rimmed my…oasis, going back and forth. Ashton flicked my nipple with his tongue as his hips moved harder, his stroke stronger. When I began to buck against him so hard, my titties bounced in his face, the erotic sight was too powerful and I closed my eyes. But my hips were off the mattress and I rubbed against him until I felt myself about to “cum” again and met the pleasure with more confidence. My lips were pressed together as I breathed hard and loud through my nose.
“Fuck. No, Nabby—” Ashton pulled from me, laying his thick body on my chest, grinding into my belly hard.
His breaths were loud, violent. Then he kissed me, pushing this…emotion down my throat. And I took it, trusting him. The thought to wrap my arms around his hard, flexing back while he moved wildly over me crossed my mind, but I wasn’t brave enough to do it. I wished I could have held him protectively until he stopped, but instead, my hands clawed the sheet. For a minute, Ashton lay on top of me without moving, and I could tell he was trying to catch his breath. When he lifted, I understood what happened. His cum was on my belly and beneath my tits.
When his eyes reached mine, I saw concern in them. Was it regret? Shame? I hoped not. I was fine. Weirdly, perfectly fine.
“Did we…?” I clapped my mouth shut, not able to finish the question.
Panting, Ashton’s eyes closed and he shook his head. “It killed me not to, but no, we didn’t.”
“Then why did it sound like something scared you?”
“You went wild the last time I was down there and we almost did…” His throat coarse.
He sat up on his knees, catching his breath. One hand gripping his waist as his attention was across the room, I could tell something was off.
“What’s wrong?” I tried not panicking. He looked at me for a while, but didn’t speak. I shook my head, growing scared. “Please don’t do this—”
“Aivery and I aren’t broken up.”
“I know,” rushed through tight lips as I covered my chest.
Ashton shook his head. “But…” His eyes rolled up and squeezed closed. “We’re not together.”
My