The Bad Boy Next Door: Lance & Chastity (7 page)

That was… the best orgasm I’ve ever had.

And he wasn’t even trying.

What would happen if he
did
try?

I shudder pleasantly.

“More?” he asks.

“You should really go. We probably woke my mom. She’s a light sleeper.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He stands up and unbuckles his belt and pushes his jeans down to his knees. He bulges in his boxers.

“Put your pants on!”

“No.” He hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers and pushes them down slowly, revealing a light dusting of trimmed hair. I’m dying to know what’s under those boxers. His waistband creeps lower until it springs out.

It’s beautiful.

I’m mesmerized. I want to touch it, hold it, examine it.

I have no idea what he plans to do now that he is out and I’m wet and ready. I know one thing. I’m not ready to have sex. This is all happening so fast and we haven’t even kissed.

“You want my cock.” He starts to stroke the shaft, fisting it in the middle and working it slowly.

For a moment, I’m hypnotized by the snake charmer in my bedroom. But thoughts of my mom are nagging at the back of my brain. “You really need to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere until I’m finished with you.”

His words should scare me but instead they thrill me. Does he mean he’s going to have sex with me? Like, a bunch of times until we can’t possibly have any more sex in a single night?

He kicks his boots off and sits back down beside me, still stroking himself. His hand moves up and down, rolling the foreskin up and down over the swollen head.

I’m completely turned on all over again. He touches me with his free hand. More waves of pleasure course through me. I want to have sex with him. I don’t want to lose my virginity this way. I want to have sex with him anyway. But I shouldn’t. Not like this.

He releases himself and holds his palm under my mouth. “Spit on it.”

“What?”

“Don’t ask questions. Spit on my hand.”

Not sure what to do, I spit. A fat drop of my saliva falls to his palm.

He rubs it around the head of his penis. “That’s more like it.” He strokes himself for a while then suddenly slumps. “Hmmm.”

“What?”

“I thought your spit would do it for me. It didn’t.”

“Oh.” I’m not about to offer a blowjob. But the thought does cross my mind.

“This’ll do the trick.” His fingers scoop into my wet folds until they’re completely soaked. Then he smears my wetness all over his penis. He closes his eyes and moans. “Fuck yeah. I don’t know why, but pussy cum is always better than spit. It’s like my dick knows the difference.”

“That’s gross.”

“But true.”

He lays down on the bed next to me, one hand on his penis, the other up above his head so he can stroke my hair. I turn to face him.

We are nose to nose.

We still haven’t kissed yet.

But I’ve come once already and his pent up heat strains between us, his hand bumping gently against my stomach.

“Look at me,” he says.

His fiery eyes are gorgeous and captivating.

His breath is sweet. Minty.

His lips brush mine and I’m in heaven.

We’re kissing and he tastes like sin.

Slow and soft at first, in contrast to his rough nature. I knew he had a gentle side. But it isn’t exactly innocent kissing when his erect penis is hot and hard against my stomach and his hand is covered with my fluids.

He breaks the kiss. “Touch yourself. I want you to come when I do.”

“I don’t know if I can again. I’m kind of nervous right now.”

“Do it.”

I do. It feels wonderful. But not quite as wonderful as when he was doing it.

We kiss again.

My whole body is electrified. Somehow, touching ourselves while we kiss is incredibly intimate. We’re masturbating together. But that’s something you’re supposed to do in private. By yourself. So nobody knows. Because no one is supposed to know. And because it’s supposedly a sin and definitely shameful. But, for the first time ever, I don’t feel guilty about touching myself. It’s a total turn on.

He whispers between kisses, “I’ve been thinking about you all damn day.”
kiss
“I wanted to fuck you the moment I saw you.”
kiss
“I wanted to bend you over the back of your car and rip those shorts off and fuck you right out in the open.”
kiss
“Tangle my fists in that golden fuck me hair of yours.”
kiss
“When I snuck in your bedroom this morning and saw you in your bra, I almost did fuck you.”
kiss
“You have perfect tits, I’m telling you.”
kiss
“And your hips?”
kiss
“Fucking forget it.”
kiss

I am going crazy with lust. But I have just enough brain power left to remember that he hasn’t even seen my boobs out of my bra yet, so how would he know they’re perfect? He’s just telling me what every girl wants to hear. But his dirty words thrill me all the same.

“If your house wasn’t so damn crowded, I’d be fucking you right now on this bed, making you come all over my cock and shooting my load way up inside your wet pussy.”

His harsh words caress me as intensely as his fingers did when they were inside me a moment ago. I let out a moan.

His face tightens. “That’s it. Fucking come,” he says frantically, clearly on the edge of his own orgasm. “Come all over my dick.”

I rub faster and my legs tighten as a strong orgasm seizes me.

Lance grunts through clenched teeth and the next thing I know I feel hot cum on my stomach. That sends me over the edge. I’m blown back by my own orgasm. I’m barely aware of all the cum that shoots out of him and how it sticks to my skin.

We’re both breathing hard as we come down from our orgasms. I cover his penis with my hand, pressing it against me, smearing his seed on my skin with my fingertips. That’s when I realize half of it went on my T-shirt which I’m still wearing and the other half is dribbling down my side onto my mattress.

There is cum literally everywhere.

Alarm bells go off in my head and I panic. I need to clean this mess or mom is going to find it. I’m sure she knows what cum looks like. “You have to get out of here!”

“Are you kicking me out of bed?” He smirks.

“Yes! Go before my mom wakes up!” I hate that I’m panicking, but this is serious. I push on him but he doesn’t budge. All those muscles weighs a lot.

He chuckles. “Need some help?”

I giggle, “Get out!”

He sits up on the bed and stares at me for a moment before leaning down to kiss me again. His lips are forceful, desperate. He can’t get enough. His hand runs through my hair and knots behind my ear. He breaks the kiss and bites my lower lip. “I fucking need to fuck you right the fuck now.”

I desperately want him to. I’m just as scared Mom will walk in any second. I pull away. “We can’t. You have to go!”

He stands up and slowly pulls his clothes on. “I’m not done with you. Not by a long shot. We’re just getting started.”

I hope not.

When he’s dressed, he climbs out my bedroom window and leans his head in. “Get over here.”

I jump up from bed and lean on the sill.

He kisses me one last time.

I squeeze my knees together and my thighs quiver all over again.

I’m about to ask him to take me with him when he breaks the kiss and says, “Laters.”

He looks back and grins his devil’s grin before hopping the backyard fence like a bandit and landing in his own yard.

A puff of summer breeze billows the loose flap of the torn window screen into my room. I hope Mom doesn’t notice it in the morning. Or Lance’s cum all over my bed. And my shirt.

What a mess.

I’ll deal with it tomorrow.

I sigh dreamily and hug myself as I fall back into bed. The scent of Lance’s sex all over me is intense. I turn and stare at my mirrored closet doors. I wish they were a secret magic portal between my bedroom and his and I could walk through mine like Alice through the looking glass. That way I could magically appear in Lance’s bedroom any time I wanted. Or he could walk through his into my room any time he wanted.

Now would be good.

Speaking of magic, that’s when I realize this is officially the best birthday ever and I’m only four hours into it.

But one thing has me worried.

I think Lance might really be the devil.

Chapter 5

CHASTITY

“Chastity! Get up! It’s 8:30!” Mom pulls on the blankets at the foot of my bed.

At first, I think I’m being attacked. I’m barely aware of what’s going on because I’m half asleep. Then my chest locks and I realize I’m still lying in my cum-soaked bed sheets and T-shirt. “Stop it, Mom! I’m awake!”

“We have a lot to do today to get ready for your party and the house needs to be cleaned.”

“I know! Geez! Will you relax?!” I’m scared out of my mind she’s going to see the sheets. Or smell them. Luckily, I must’ve pulled a blanket on top of me when it got cold during the night. That’s when I realize my stomach and my sides and back are all crusty with dried cum. I must’ve rolled around in it while I slept. I have no idea how bad it looks. Worse, I’m not wearing any panties! I don’t know where Lance tossed them.

If Mom pulls the blankets off, she’ll kill me.

She tugs on them again. “Get up.”

“Can I have some privacy? Please!”

“Get up.” She wrinkles her nose. “Did you shower yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“What’s that smell?”

“B.O.! Will you leave me alone?! Gosh!”

She folds her arms and stares at me. “That’s not B.O. I wash your clothes, remember?”

“It’s B.O.!” Why is she so horrible?

“I don’t know what it is, but it’s not B.O. Did you forget to wear a tampon?”

“Mom!”

She sneers and shakes her head. “Just get up.”

“If you give me a minute’s privacy, I will.”

“Why are you acting so strange?”

“Why are
you
?”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Hurry up or your sister is going to shower first and use up all the hot water like always. I don’t want you waiting around until the water heater fills. We have a lot to do.” She walks out.

I hate her.

She’s ruining my birthday already. The weird thing is, she’s ruining it because she’s obsessed with making everything perfect. We can’t just set out a bowl of chips and light some candles on a grocery store cake. Nope. Mom has to make it a birthday fit for royalty. Which I’m not. I’ll never understand her obsession with appearances.

Nothing I can do about it now.

I have this mess to deal with.

I lift the sheet and grin.

I have Lance’s cum all over me. When I climb into the shower, I’m reluctant to wash it off, but I do.

Today isn’t going to be all bad.

I wonder when I’ll see Lance again.

++++8++++

CHASTITY

“Look who decided to join us for breakfast,” Mom smiles after I finish showering and dressing and walk in the kitchen.

Mr. McKnight sits at the kitchen table sipping from his AriZona Iced Tea bottle like yesterday. “Mornin’.” He raises the bottle in a toast.

“Hey,” I mutter.

Mom is busy making French toast in a cast iron skillet on the stove. She never makes French toast unless it’s a special occasion. Usually it’s cereal and milk.

I yawn. “I thought we had to clean house and get ready for the pool party.”

“We have time,” Mom grins like Susie Homemaker. “And you’ll need a good breakfast to keep you going.”

Mom is such a liar.

I open the refrigerator and pull out the carton of OJ. “You want some OJ, Mr. McKnight?”

“I’m good. Got my tea.” He takes another sip. He really loves his tea.

Charity trudges into the room with her blonde hair hanging in wet coils right as Mom is ready to serve.

“Charity, your hair,” Mom grumbles.

“What?” she grouses as she slumps into a chair at the table.

“Can you do something about it?”

“I washed it!” Charity barks. She has a short temper in the morning, just like Mom. But Mom is faking because Mr. McKnight is here, otherwise it would be a screaming match.

“Well, at least brush it or something.” Mom makes a fluttery laugh, hiding her irritation. She’s pissed.

“I did!”

“Charity, your tone.”

Charity rolls her eyes.

“Can you at least put it in a pony tail? We have a guest.”

“Fine.” She slides out of the chair and walks out.

When she returns, Mom serves.

Charity is a zombie and eats in silence, staring off into space with a piece of French toast still on her fork while she chews. When she swallows, she takes another bite from the piece on her fork.

“Charity,” Mom flutter-laughs, “please cut smaller pieces.”

Charity’s head turns slowly and she glares at Mom silently while she chews. She swallows hard then jams the piece still on her fork into her mouth and chews open-mouthed, snarling at Mom.

I hide my smile, waiting for the screaming match.

Mom flutter-laughs at Mr. McKnight, “She must’ve gotten up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

Such a faker.

Mr. McKnight chuckles and sips his AriZona Iced Tea. “I know how that can go.” He smiles at Charity. “Most mornings I get out on the wrong side too.”

While chewing, Charity goes, “Grrg.”

He chuckles.

I can’t figure out if Mom invited him over or if he just showed up. I don’t remember them saying anything about breakfast last night when he was here. Oh well. Mom chatters with him while we eat. Their conversation is so sickly sweet, I can’t take another second.

I finish my French toast as fast as I can and wipe my hands on a paper napkin. “May I be excused?”

“Of course,” Mom smiles. “After you brush your teeth, can you pull the folding tables out of the garage and clean them?”

“Oh, gosh. Thanks for reminding me about my teeth. I always forget to brush them and would’ve totally forgot because all I can think about is cleaning those tables.” My sarcasm is obvious. I have a bit of Charity and Mom’s morning temper too.

Mom tries to maintain a smile but I see her rage ticking around her lips. She stares at me. “Use Pine-Sol on the tables. They’ve been in the garage a long time. And clean the folding chairs too. There’s a stack of clean rags on the dryer. After that, you can vacuum. Make sure you empty the filter first. It’s full.” Her smile ticks a challenge.