Unconventional Read online

  On our way there, I grab her hand and duck down the back hall, pressing her up against the wall with my body.

  “I was just about to make excuses to leave and come over,” I tell her.

  “Eager to see me, are you?” She smiles up at me.

  “Definitely. Thank you for the pictures.” I stare down at her lips, so sexy painted in red lipstick. I don’t kiss her, though, as that would definitely transfer to my lips. For some fucked up reason, I want to see it smeared all over my dick.

  She laughs. “It’s not like I sent you anything exciting.”

  “I beg to differ.” I take her hand and bring it down to my erection. “I really liked them.”

  She squeezes my cock and blows out a breath. “How long do you think we have to stay?”

  “Let’s go have a drink and get out of here.”

  “Agreed.”

  CHARLIE AND I BRING back a pitcher of margaritas and one of beer and begin pouring. I know Monica loves margaritas, and the bartender even gave us salt-rimmed glasses, my favorite. I pour margaritas for the ladies and Charlie pours beer for the guys. Then we raise our glasses and give a hearty, “To Max and Monica!”

  I clink glasses with everyone, smiling despite myself. I’m not the biggest fan of marriage, but Monica looks so damn happy. I notice she puts her drink down without taking a sip. Huh, that’s weird. Then Max pulls her into his lap to kiss her soundly and her drink is forgotten.

  “So when are you thinking about having the wedding?” Tate asks the happy couple.

  “I’m not sure yet,” Monica tells her, looking over at Max.

  “Well, let me know so I have enough time to plan my awesome speech,” Charlie says, narrowing his eyes at Logan.

  “You should just start planning now since you’ll need all the time you can get,” Logan retorts.

  I sense a bit of friendly competition between Logan and Charlie. I can’t even imagine what Charlie would say in a best man speech, and the thought makes me chuckle.

  “Hey, can I be in charge of planning the bachelor party?” Charlie asks Monica.

  Monica stares at Charlie and blinks. “As long as you promise me it won’t be another episode of The Hangover.”

  “You know, I don’t think—” Max starts to shake his head at Charlie.

  “Fuck that, Max. You’re having a bachelor party,” Charlie interrupts.

  “No worries, because I’ll plan your bachelorette party,” I tell Monica as I sip my drink. This is right up my alley.

  Charlie smirks at me, and I raise my drink to signal for him to take a sip as well. My body is revved up and I want to get out of here. His smirk turns into a knowing grin and he tilts his head back to gulp down his beer. I watch the way his lips mold to the glass and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. God, that Adam’s apple—why is it so sexy?

  The next 30 minutes of conversation are the slowest of my life, especially because Charlie starts touching me. I know I should discourage this public display, as this is fodder for our friends—especially Monica, who gives me a look like she thinks we make a cute couple—but I don’t care what they think. I’m desperate for his touch and if that makes them think we’re more than just fuck buddies, so be it.

  Finally, after we’ve discussed the pros and cons of separate versus joint bachelor and bachelorette parties (Monica and Max vote for a joint party, Charlie and I insist they be separate), Charlie tugs me to a standing position and announces that we’re leaving. Thank God. My underwear is soaked, the fabric sticking to my skin, and I can’t stop thinking about sucking his cock.

  We decide to go to his place this time, as it’s closer to O’Malley’s. On the way out, Charlie orders a car to pick us up since we’ve both been drinking, and the second we step outside, his big body cages me against the exterior brick wall of the club.

  “I thought we’d never get out of there,” he says breathlessly against my ear, licking my neck.

  I sigh and angle my head up, giving him better access. He licks up to my mouth and kisses me, our bodies pressed together so tight. He’s hard, and his erection presses into my belly. It’s like a magnet, and I can’t resist reaching down to cup him through his pants.

  “Fuck, Red, you can’t do that out here. You trying to get us arrested?” he teases, biting my lower lip and sucking it into his mouth. He tastes like the beer he was drinking but his mouth is still delicious. He pins me against the wall with his pelvis and I feel the scratch of the brick against my back. Somehow, it makes me burn hotter for him.

  Minutes pass while we make out on the street like teenagers. Finally, a car pulls up to the sidewalk and beeps. Charlie looks over his shoulder and recognizes the make and model from the service he ordered. “Come on, let’s take this to my place.”

  The driver looks at us warily as we slide into the backseat. “No sex in my car,” he warns us.

  Charlie chuckles and raises his hands in the air. “No worries, we can wait 10 minutes,” he reassures the driver. No matter how horny we are, the rank smell of body odor and stale sweat kills our libido pretty quickly. I cover my nose and make a face at Charlie. He flares his nostrils in disgust, making a gagging face, and we chuckle while we endure the short drive to his place.

  I was amazed to learn that Charlie has his own house—for some reason I pictured him living in an apartment. When he brought me here for the first time, I expected a frat house vibe, maybe even a keg in his kitchen, but surprisingly, Charlie has furnished his house to feel like a home. The decor is decidedly masculine, but the furniture is contemporary and comfortable and the walls are decorated with what I assume is his photography.

  Charlie unlocks the front door, letting me pass in front of him. Once he locks it, he turns to me, a wicked sexy grin on his face.

  “How many times have you masturbated thinking about that night?” Charlie asks, his voice a husky rasp in my ear.

  “So many times,” I admit.

  “God, me too.” His eyes glow with arousal and he stares at me like he wants to eat me up. “Kneel down, Red. I want your mouth on my cock. You can decorate it with that lipstick of yours, make it into a work of art.”

  I don’t balk at his command only because I want him in my mouth just as bad as he does. I lower myself to the floor and kneel in front of him, reaching for the buckle on his pants. My mouth practically salivates as I carefully unzip and lower his pants and boxers. He’s already hard, his erection catching on the fabric then springing up to salute me once free from the confines of his clothes.

  Charlie Nelson is well endowed. I want a picture of his magnificent penis for my masturbation material. I’ve searched Tumblr high and low for a dick as pretty as his, but I can’t find a good match. He’s thick and long, his pubic hair dark blond and sparse at the base. The skin is golden and soft, stretched taut around his hard shaft. It’s a smooth cock, too, no angry bulbous veins protruding, and I’m always drawn to the pierced head. He has an apadravya, a barbell that runs vertically through the head of his penis. One ball sits on the underside, right where the head meets the shaft, and the other ball is on the top, right in between the shaft and the tip. So, no matter what position we’re in, there are two points of extra stimulation.

  Charlie’s voice interrupts my reverie. “While I love the way you’re staring at my cock right now, I’d love it even more if you touched it—preferably with your lips or tongue.”

  I look up into his face and see him watching me, muscles corded with tension, hands balled into fists at his sides. He towers over me like a Greek god. Some might think the man is in the position of power in this situation, but he isn’t. I have all the power right now, and I want to drive him crazy.

  “I think I like the idea of your cock being my canvas,” I tell him, gripping the base of him. I lean in close and rest it on my face, loving the heat and weight of it on my cheek. He grunts at the contact, swiveling his hips to get more friction. Meeting his gaze, I position his penis just so, and land a purposeful kiss at the bas
e, stamping my red lipstick on him. His eyes flare and he smiles, his dimple popping out on one side. Then I drag my lips up the side of the shaft, pulling the red color in a smeared line. I’m sure it’s smeared all over my mouth, too, but I don’t care. I place another kiss around the barbell on the top of his head, stamping my lipstick around his piercing. My tongue sneaks out to touch the piercing as I do this, unable to resist pushing on it in the process.

  A hasty, “Fuck,” is my reward, and the sound goes straight to my clit.

  I sit back and admire my handiwork. The sight of his penis with red lips at the tip and the base with lipstick smeared down the side should look ridiculous, but it doesn’t. We both groan in appreciation and I need more.

  Before my tongue touches his tip, he reaches down and angles my chin up, inspecting the mess my lipstick made on my face, I’m guessing. “This is a good look on you, Red. If I could take a picture, I’d title it Debauched.”

  The thought of him taking my picture shoots a tingle through me. I actually liked sending him those pictures earlier, though I purposefully left out my face. Do I trust him enough to take a picture of my face?

  “Do you want to take pictures?” I ask him.

  “Fuck yes, can I?”

  “Only if you promise not to get my full face, keep them to yourself, and password protect them on your phone.”

  “Done.” He reaches down into his pants pocket and finds his cell. The screen lights up as he unlocks it then he holds it above me, positioning it to get a shot.

  “One more thing.” I hold my hand up to cover my face. He lowers the phone and looks at me expectantly. “I need a picture of your dick.”

  He smirks, surprised by my request. “I’ll send you all of them.”

  I put my hand down and lean my face up at him. He focuses intently on the screen, tapping to change a few settings. His eyes gleam, as if he likes what he sees, and it makes me so hot. The sound of the shutter going off makes it real—I’ve officially lost my mind—but I don’t care. I reach forward and pull his cock close to my lips.

  “Don’t forget to get this,” I remind him. His cock jumps in my hand, his excitement impossible to ignore. I tongue the bottom ball of his piercing and lick all around it, loving the texture of the cool metal on my tongue and also loving the feel of his skin so warm in contrast. I trace the line up from his piercing to tongue the slit of his opening. I wiggle my tongue around it, licking off the pre-cum that gathers there.

  The shutter continues to go off and the sound only ramps up my arousal. I feel so brazen, so naughty, getting my picture taken like this.

  “I want a picture with your lips stretched wide around my dick.” He grunts and bucks his hips, seeking entrance into my mouth. I smile at his bossiness, but do as he says. His girth does stretch my mouth and I definitely can’t take all of him. I wrap my hand around the base and take in as much of him as I can then stop to look up at him with my mouth so full. His eyes glitter as he stares into the screen, now snapping pictures every few seconds.

  I swallow around the head of his cock and he curses, closing his eyes as the sensation draws his focus away from the camera. This is what I love to see—Charlie out of control.

  I get to work, bobbing slowly on his cock, tugging on his shaft with my hand then sneaking my other hand beneath his balls to play with the skin there. He’s so sensitive and I feel his cock pulse in my mouth when I sneak my finger closer to his asshole.

  A lot of guys love ass play, though I’ve never gone very far in that department with Charlie. His reaction now makes me want to see how much he’ll let me do. I turn my focus to his balls, licking all around to get them nice and wet. Then I nuzzle under them, licking the skin between his balls and his ass as far as I can reach with my tongue.

  “Fuck, that feels good,” he praises as he widens his stance.

  I can reach farther and don’t hesitate to bite the crease of skin where his ass meets his leg then I lick away the sting with my tongue and tease all around his hole. Before I return to his cock, I coat my finger in saliva. Then I reverse my path, licking around his balls and up his shaft, opening my mouth as wide as I can around his cock. He groans, closing his eyes and leaning back against the door.

  As I work the tip of his cock with my mouth and the base with my hand, I sneak the wet finger in between his ass cheeks, finding the puckered skin. It clenches tight at the attention and he grunts, eyes flying open to look down at me. I keep my finger still, just resting on his asshole.

  “Red?” he questions. I don’t answer him with words, but I hold his gaze as I continue to stroke his shaft. My saliva has dripped down his cock so my hand slides easily up and down, matching the movements of my mouth.

  He relaxes as I blow him, and he slowly starts to thrust into my mouth, his dick hitting the back of my throat. I try to relax my throat as best as I can, but he’s so big, my gag reflex threatens to surface. I swallow, hoping to keep it under control. He must feel the movement of my throat swallowing against him because he curses.

  “Your mouth is so perfect,” he tells me. “I want to come down your throat.”

  I moan around his cock in agreement. I want him to come down my throat, too.

  He picks up the pace, fucking my mouth. The cell phone slips from his fingers and he reaches down, holding my face in his hands, watching his dick slide in and out of my mouth. The constant poke of his dick to the back of my throat makes me tear up.

  He’s close; I can tell by the way his cock swells in my mouth and his balls draw up. My finger is forgotten by him, but not by me. I push forward slowly, breaching his hole just to the first knuckle. His eyes widen in surprise and the added sensation pushes him over the edge. He shouts as his orgasm hits and his cock jerks, semen flooding into my mouth. I swallow as fast as I can, but I’m not fast enough. Some of his cum leaks out of my mouth, leaving a warm trail down my chin and neck. His muscles clench around my finger as his dick pulses and I lick his cock like a lollipop, cleaning him off as he comes down from his orgasm.

  “Sweet baby Jesus, Red, that almost killed me,” he wheezes, pulling out of my mouth. He tilts my chin up to look at my face, and I’m sure I look like a hot mess—my mascara smeared by my tears, lipstick smudged all over my face, and semen dripping down my chin. He makes note of all this, eyes trailing up and down my face. Then he bends over to pick up the fallen cell phone. Holding my face with one hand, he snaps a shot of me. “Now this, this is the one I will call Debauched.”

  Then he does something I never expected him to do: he kneels in front of me and licks my face clean. He licks his cum off my neck and chin, licks my tears off my cheeks. Then he licks into my mouth and kisses me like he can’t get enough of me.

  If I wasn’t turned on before, I’m approaching combustible levels of arousal now.

  “Hey, Red?”

  “Yes, Charlie?”

  “I want you to ride my face.”

  So I do.

  Please tell me you skipped underwear today.

  QUINN LIES ACROSS MY body, drowsy and spent after I made her come twice with my tongue and then again with my dick.

  “You alive, Red?” I ask her, tracing patterns on her back and shoulders, connecting the dots her freckles make on her skin.

  “Mmmm,” is the only response she can muster.

  I chuckle, enjoying her like this, pliable and relaxed. Her skin is so soft under my fingertips and I don’t want to stop touching her.

  “You need anything before we go to sleep?” I ask her.

  “I can leave if you give me a minute,” she mumbles, eyes still closed.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Just stay,” I insist, kissing her shoulder. If it were any other woman, I’d be collecting her clothes and getting a car to come pick her up. Scratch that, if it were any other woman, I wouldn’t have brought her to my house to begin with, but it’s Quinn. She’s practically asleep already and besides, I still need to ask her if she’ll go with me to my family dinner on Sunday.

/>   I quickly brush my teeth and wash my face, make sure the house is locked up, then slide back into bed next to Quinn. Still in the same position, she’s now asleep, breathing slow and even. I plug in my cell and open up my gallery to look at the pictures I took of her tonight. It starts with the last picture.

  It’s my favorite.

  Her face is a mess. Eye makeup ruined, a red blur around her lips from her smeared lipstick, a clear wet trail from the corner of her mouth down her chin and neck. She’s truly debauched.

  Fuck. My cock stirs looking at her like this. She asked me not to take any pictures of her face, but my brain wasn’t working well as I had just come in her mouth. I’ll never show anyone this picture—that’s not my style—but I can’t delete it.

  I scroll through the rest, stopping on one with her lips stretched around my cock. I zoom in, noticing how wet my dick is with her saliva, how perfect her lips look on my shaft. The next one is her tonguing my piercing.

  Fuuuck.

  I swipe to the next one, finding an image of her holding my cock in her hands, lipstick decorating it.

  These pictures capture how unbelievably sexy Quinn is.

  As promised, I select each one, put them in the folder with the other pictures she sent me earlier, and mark the folder as private, locking it with my fingerprint. Then I put my phone on the nightstand and try to fall asleep…only I can’t get comfortable, tossing and turning. I even punch my pillow a couple of times but it doesn’t help.

  All of my movement causes Quinn to stir and she rolls over, draping herself across my chest, burrowing her face into my neck. Her bare tits mold into me, her hair more soft than ticklish on my skin. I turn, pulling her into me with my arm around her back and my leg between hers. Finally comfortable, I fall asleep.

  Consciousness filters through me in stages. First, I notice the light shining in through my bedroom window. Then I feel the silky skin underneath my fingers, the warmth radiating from soft curves tucked up against my chest. Finally, I realize my cock is wedged in between two butt cheeks. The power of deductive reasoning helps me figure out I’m in bed with a woman. This is not common.