Cruise Control (Watchers Crew) (7 page)

“I have trouble believing that.”

“That’s because you’ve been fucking shit for men that lie to get what they want. I’ve told you exactly what I want. And I’ve always given you what you need.”

He stroked his hand up and down my body. I buried my face in his chest and took a whiff. He smelled like a woman’s perfume.

“Where were you tonight?”

“At a party.” His eyes challenged mine to ask the question I really wanted to know.
 

“Did you…” I hesitated because I knew he would tell me the truth, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it.

“Why is it important to you to know who I fuck as long as I come back to you every night?”

I closed my eyes. So he had come from fucking another girl.

“I didn’t fuck anybody, Shakira. I watched two girls fuck each other, but I didn’t touch either one of them.”

“Why did you have to watch them? Why didn’t you just come here and fuck me?”

He thought about that as he stroked my leg. “Why do you change your clothes every day? Why do you eat different foods at each meal? Why do you need more than one color pen to do your work? Just like food, clothes, and shelter, fucking is a basic necessity of human existence. We might wear the same outfit more than once, or have a favorite food, but we like variety.”

“So you’re saying I’m your favorite because you want to come and fuck me more than once?”

“Why do you need me to make you feel special? What if I change my mind about you one day? Does that mean you’re not special anymore?”

Yeah, that’s exactly what it meant. All the men who’d left me behind in the past; all the men I couldn’t hold on to, that’s why they all left.

“I’m not that guy, Shakira. I don’t ride horses or wear tights, or any of that shit. I’m not from a storybook or samurai fairytale. I’m from Jersey.”

I burst out laughing.
 

Owl grinned. “Just let me fuck you, baby. Let me make you come until you cry. That’s what you need. And that’s what I want to give you.”

That was what I needed right now. I spread my legs and grabbed a hold of the headboard.

“That’s my girl.”

I let go of the headboard and put my hand up. “Owl, you’re gonna have to stop calling me that. It messes with my head.”

“Calling you what?” He reached out a hand and tweaked one of my breasts.

I took a deep breath before I continued. “Your girl. I’m not your girl.”

He didn’t answer. He reached for the other breast.

“I’m not,” I said. “Am I?”

With his other hand Owl reached between us and put his fingers in me. “How about this? This is my pussy.” He stroked up with his index and middle finger hitting that good-good spot. He stroked my clit with his thumb.

My legs opened wider for him. “Yeah, it’s your pussy, Owl.”

He smiled at that, like a little boy that just got a toy car. “Yeah, that’s my pussy. I’m gonna make my pussy come. I’m gonna make my pussy drip.”

My hips moved in time to his finger thrusts. I was close in less than a minute. But then he withdrew.

“Owl, what the fuck?”

“It’s dripping,” he said. “I wanna taste it.”

I slapped my legs closed. He raised an eyebrow at me. I tried to mimic the gesture, but felt both of my brows raise to my hairline instead of just one. “You want a taste? I want a taste to.” I indicated his crotch.

He smirked. “You want it?” He grabbed my legs and flipped me over so that I was on top of him with my pussy over his mouth. “Go get it baby.”

Owl pulled my hips down to his tongue and took a slurping lick. My upper body crumbled, and I fell face first into his crotch. He chuckled. His breath tickled my clit making it throb even more.

I reached for his belt to get at his cock, but he parted my ass cheeks and rimmed my asshole. My upper body collapsed at the first feel of those new sensations. I’d had a few boyfriends who I’d engaged in anal sex with. But they all had simply slapped on a condom, applied lubrication, and got down to the messy business of ass fucking. I’d never enjoyed it, not once. It always left me sore and dreading the toilet for days after. No one had ever taken their tongue there before.

Owl licked at my anus just like he would my clit. First light flicks, then wet circles, and then finally he sucked. I was trembling and moaning. Getting to his dick was a distant memory.

He spread my cheeks wide, dragging his tongue from my anus all the way back to my clit. He’d focus alternately on my clit, then my anus with those flicks, circles, and sucks. As soon as I could predict his motions, he changed them up. He let my ass cheeks go and spread my pussy lips. He stuck his tongue up my channel, lightly nipping with his teeth.
 

My mission to suck his cock dry was completely abandoned now. I lay my head beside his dick, which was still covered in jeans. I felt it twitching. Was it laughing at my sub par attempts to bend its owner to my will?
 

Owl didn’t urge me to unzip him and get to work on his dick. In fact, with the few brain cells I had left, I was certain he’d rimmed my ass to get me to lose my focus. It was as though he was content to spend the whole night pleasing me.

But that was absurd. No guy was that selfless.

I rallied my senses and unzipped his pants. His dick spilled out, standing at the ready. I got to work kissing at the swollen head. I’d had many cocks in my day, but there was something pleasing about the texture and taste of Owl’s. I licked up the precum in the divot of his cockhead. Then I suckled the underside of the bulbous head, reveling in the curves and how they fit perfectly in the cradle of my tongue.

Still, Owl didn’t urge me on. He didn’t reach up and grab my head to push me all the way down on him. He didn’t thrust up into my mouth to force me to take more of him. He lay perfectly still from the torso down and let me have my way with him. From the torso up was a different story.

He inserted one finger into my pussy. That finger made a hook and hung out there while he licked at the soft patch of skin between my anus and vagina. I’d never known that that area had any pleasure nerves. Owl obviously did because he took his time playing there. I felt myself getting wetter and wetter as he stroked with his finger and tongue.

I refused to be the only one slowly going out of their mind. I took his whole cock in my mouth, relaxing my throat muscles to accommodate his length and girth. It was a mistake. It appeared to be exactly what he was waiting for me to do.

As soon as I reached the base of his cock, Owl inserted another finger into my pussy. With two fingers he pressed down and into the front of my vaginal wall, hitting what I now knew was my G-spot. I whimpered and gurgled on his dick. He chuckled as his mouth moved over my clit.

He’d made this a competition; the oral sex Olympics. I was clearly about to take the silver medal while he’d be on the top podium with gold.

With one arm, he clamped my torso to his face. With the other hand, the one that was two fingers deep into my pussy, he began to stroke. Fast. Hard. Hard and fast. I released his dick on a deep moan, unable to focus with this new intensity in my pussy.

As soon as my mouth was free of him, Owl’s mouth clamped down around my clit. His tongue swat and slurped at me from every direction. So fast it made my head spin. His fingers continued to work, never ceasing their hard and fast motion on my G-spot.

“Come for me, Kira.”

I came. Fast and hard. The pleasure radiating out of me in every direction. My hips jerked, but Owl held me clamped down to him. He didn’t stop his tongue swiping or his finger jerking during or after my orgasm.

In fact, there was no after the orgasm. It kept going and going.

Somewhere outside an animal cried out for help. Its groans alternated between high-pitched pleas and deep grunts of indulgence. But I knew that was no animal. I knew it was me. I couldn’t spare the care or attention to be ashamed at the sounds I made, or worried if others might hear me. I was too far-gone.

Owl didn’t stop the motions of his tongue or his fingers until my body collapsed down onto his in exhaustion. And even then, he didn’t let me go. He licked at me, slowly and carefully, like someone would lick up the crumbs of a superb dessert.

He made sure to avoid my clit as he slopped up the drippings of the orgasm that lasted longer than I knew was possible. I held still while he did, unable to stop him even if I wanted to. My head rested against something hard and warm and throbbing. It was his dick. I sighed as I looked at it. I was too limp to do anything about its firmness.

Chapter Nine

Sometime later, Owl rolled me over and pulled me onto his chest. I lay on him; me naked and drenched in sweat and my own cum, him fully clothed, calm, cool, and collected. He’d even put his barely touched, still hard dick back into his pants.

He pet me on my head, running his fingers through my hair. “Good girl.”

I closed my eyes against the sensations rumbling through me at the sound of those two words. “I told you, don’t call me your girl. It messes with my head, especially after an orgasm like that. Unless you want me running around calling you my boyfriend.”

I hoped that sounded light-hearted and not as real as I wished it to be. We were just fucking. That was all. That was enough. This wasn’t a relationship. I didn’t need a boyfriend and all that status entailed; all the anxieties about where he was and who he was with.

Owl’s phone sat on my dresser next to the vibrator he’d given me. I looked away from the phone though my fingers itched to crack his code and hack into his social profiles. I turned my face into his chest, into that space that seemed to cradle the shape of my head perfectly. Owl was giving me exactly what I needed right now. I didn’t need to screw this up with my special brand of crazy.

“I want them,” he said.

“You want what?”

“Your orgasms.”

I rose from my comfortable spot and peered down at him. His dark eyes were intense as they peered back at me. “You just gave me what will likely be the biggest orgasm of my entire life. Probably the biggest orgasm of a lot of women’s lives.”

Owl stared back at me. There was something in his gaze that should have unsettled me, something dark and indefinable. Instead, of backing away with caution, I poked it with a stick.

“Explain what you mean,” I said.

“You come for no one but me. Do you understand, Shakira?”

I tried to make sense of his words. I already didn’t come for anyone but him. He was my tour guide into the Land of Orgasm and I didn’t see anyone else around for miles. “You mean you want to be the only guy in my bed?”

“You can fuck other guys if you want,” he clarified. “But you will not come for them. You will not have an orgasm while they are inside of you or while they’re touching you. Only with me.”

Yeah, I really didn’t understand how that was different from the status quo? “Do you get to fuck other women and come for them?”

Owl thought on that for a second. “I won’t come for anyone but you.”

The concession shocked me. But it wasn’t enough. “If I agree to this, to only come for you, I don’t want you to make anyone else come either.”

He frowned as though it were an absurd condition. But instead of saying no outright, he pursed his lips and thought it over.

My heartbeat so hard in my chest I thought it was trying to punch me from the inside out for ruining the good thing my vagina had going on. I was ready to concede, to agree to let him fuck other women so long as he kept coming back and making me come every night.

But then he said, “Deal.” He gave me a peck on the cheek and then stood and straightened his clothes. He tucked in his shirt and zipped up his pants.

“What do you mean deal?” I said.

“I won’t make any other woman come but you. I won’t come for anyone but you. In exchange, your orgasms belong to me. You don’t come for anyone else, and that includes by your own hand.”

I felt more rattled at this change of events than when he stuck his tongue up my ass.

“Now, you’re my girl,” he winked at me with a smile.

My heart leaped at the words. My heart grew hands and grabbed the statement with everything in it. “I told you, when you say things like that, it messes with my head.”

Owl shrugged. “They
’
re just words; my girl, my man. You can have them if you want them.”

“What are you saying, Owl? You need to be real clear with me right now.”

He shrugged again, not quite meeting my eyes. “I have what I want from you; your orgasms. You can have those words if they’re that important to you. You can call me your boyfriend.”

He picked up the vibrator from my nightstand. “Remember to use this on yourself tonight. Set it to medium this time, seven minutes now. You are not allowed to come while you use it. If you come, I’ll know.”

Owl set the vibe back on the dresser. He leaned down and kissed my forehead. Then he bent down and kissed my lips. “I’ll be back tomorrow night. Don’t forget to work out my pussy. I want it throbbing by the time I come back to visit it.”

He was out the door before my mind could form a coherent thought. What the hell had I agreed to?

Chapter Ten

“Ellie, wait up.”

After looking down at my watch, I realized that there was no way I’d make the bus across town. I’d spent a little extra time with the vibe exercises Owl had prescribed for me this evening.

For the past few days the vibe was the first thing I reached for when I woke up. In a way, it was like reaching for Owl, who never stayed over. He’d let me rest on his chest in that space between his pecs that seemed as though it was made for the shape of my head. But as soon as I dozed off, he’d be up and out of the door.

Tonight, I was meeting him for one of his street races. I'd hoped that afterwards we’d go to his place and I might weasel my way between his sheets until morning. But I was late for the bus after spending an extra minute with the vibe.

I’d come so close to coming on my own, which I knew I wasn’t supposed to do. It didn’t matter anyway because I couldn’t get myself over that cliff that led to oblivion. Not without him. I’d lain in my bed, frustrated for thirty minutes as the throbbing in my clit subsided.