Last night at the bar when Jason began flirting with me, I tried to stay cool and unresponsive. But then I started looking at his mouth as he spoke and how his hands moved and I knew we were going to fuck.
I followed him back to an old apartment building at the base of the Hollywood Hills. His room was narrow and lit by a red light bulb and a string of white Christmas lights hung around the moldings. His mattress was on the floor. His guitar was against the wall.
Jason’s mouth was soft when he kissed me but he pressed down hard. He bit my lip and pulled off my sweater and pushed me down onto the mattress. He pinched my nipples. He kept his hands on my tits and went lower, kissing and licking my stomach. Eventually he pulled off my jeans and started licking and sucking and biting me. It was too much pressure so I told him to be more gentle.
“Sorry,” he whispered, and moved his mouth lower. Then he pushed a finger inside me and moved it up and forward and the intensity almost made me pass out. My back arched and I climaxed in waves. I pushed his head off me when he tried to keep licking. He came up and pulled me back up onto the bed.
“Can I do that again?” He asked. “You taste really good.”
When I had caught my breath I turned to him. He took off his shirt and kissed me. I tasted myself and all I could think about was how his cock would feel in my mouth.
“What about you?” I asked.
“Take off my pants,” he said. I unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down. His cock was so hard. His skin was pale and his scrotum was pierced with a little silver ring.
I pulled myself up and leaned over him, kissed him, rubbed myself up and down his body, bit his nipples. Then I went lower and took his cock in my mouth. I sucked and licked. I couldn’t go too far down without gagging and I knew he wasn’t going to come so after a while I stopped and moved up so we were lying down together with our heads at the top of the bed.
“Want a cigarette?” He asked.
“Yeah,” I said, and as he moved over me to get them he started kissing me and we were entwined again and I felt him hard against my stomach and wanted him inside me so fucking badly. He moved down to lick me and this time his tongue was lighter so that when I came it was faster and the contractions were more intense and I was left trembling and my mouth was completely dry. He came up to kiss me. He stopped and looked at me. I smiled. He held my head in his hands and said “you are so sexy.”
I felt my legs shaking and said “I’m not going to be able to walk.”
“That’s okay,” he said, “you can stay here.”
“I can’t,” I said. I’m not good at spending the night. I don’t know how to be that vulnerable.
He moved up and started rubbing himself against my pussy. He lifted my legs up over his shoulders and was careful not to enter me. Once, he pushed in.
“Oops, sorry,” he said, and then, “damn, I want to do that again.”
Then he said: “we can’t have sex because I don’t have any rubbers.”
“Okay,” I said, and looked up at him. I wanted him inside me but I also desperately wanted to suck his cock until he came so I could taste him.
“But I can come like this,” he said and he kept rubbing and almost entering and pushing and it was making me crazy.
“I want to fuck you so badly,” he said, then he turned me over and moved up and down against my ass until he came on my back. I felt it splash. I felt the wetness. I love that feeling.
He wiped me off and went to get us cigarettes. He lit both in his mouth like he was in a movie and then came over next to me and lifted me up and put a pillow underneath me. He kept kissing my forehead. He pulled the covers over us and opened his arm and motioned for me to lie on his chest. We smoked and listened to Mazzy Star. I was aware of everything: the sound of a tree scraping against his window, the smell of his hair gel, his skin hot against mine. I felt safe.
On the way home I stopped at the red light at Sunset and a prostitute crossed the street in front of me. She was wearing a trench coat open down the front. She was slim with a long blonde ponytail and high heeled boots. She winked at me and did a little dance step in the middle of the intersection.
Nikki Thomas was born and raised in Los Angeles. She was a straight A student who couldn’t follow the rules and spent as much time in the principal’s office as in the library. At university she opted not to join a sorority and instead filled her free time cruising Hollywood bars and parties, hooking up and getting down. Nikki is a bad girl with a heart of gold. These are her stories — consider it our Monday treat for you.