Once a Nerd Ch. 12 - Sex Stories

Once a Nerd Ch. 12

... call Sam, and my mind is keen to veer away from solving for the standard deviation of who actually gives a fuck. It starts out innocent enough; a review of the previous weekend, anticipating the upcoming one. But, in that review, there's...a lot of sex. I fucked him every which way but up, to a point he had to safeword me close to two in the morning. He swore he was dehydrated from too much loss of fluid.

Which—was believable.

Like a singular ant, there's the tiny beginning of an idea scuttling between my ears. Whenever I smack his ass, he tightens uplike crazy, dripping wet spots into the sheet. Yet another thing I love, feeling that pillowy flesh bounce sharply off my palm.

As is the nature of thought, one trails into another until you're a hundred leaps from the original.

Would Sammy let me...spank him? Like,bend him over my lap?

Staring blankly at the equation key topping the screen, S = σ = ∑ ( x − x ¯ ) 2 n, my imagination kicks into hyperdrive. I can feel the muscle in his stomach fluttering nervously atop my quads, his back and shoulders rosy with embarrassment. With one hand, I'd pin his wrists to the middle of his spine. Knowing it's coming, he'd be scared out of his fucking mind, but riled enough to make a mess in my lap. Sam'sso goddamn sensitive, he can't help but react well to pain. The rougher I am with him, the harder his orgasms hit. We've never explicitly discussed it outside of a few teasing comments, but—

I bet he'd let me do it.

The ...

... first strike would have him jumping a foot off my lap, and he'd choke on a scream. The longer it goes on, he'd cry like he never has before. He'd besobbing, too breathless to form a word. Drooling, hiccuping. Chest hitching for a gasp of air. Body twitching with mangled nerves, squirming in search of relief. He'd absolutely cum untouched, soaking between my legs. How many times would be too many? Ten? Fifteen? I want his ass toglow. I want him to remember the burn for days, feeling as if the seat of his pants are chafing that blistered skin. I want him to remember the crack of my hand bruising his ass every time he sits.

If he lets me do it, I'd better do it right. Clicking into a new tab, I realize my mouth has dried up. While I can't see it behind the screen of my laptop, my dick is at attention, throbbing with a pulse all its own. Glancing over, John's deeply absorbed in his phone. He'll give me a mountain of shit if he catches sight of the tent I'm pitching in my sweats. Sliding up on the bed, I align my back with the flimsy headboard and bring my knees up.

My dick aches under the weight of my laptop, but what can ya do?

Midway through the Googling side quest I've embarked on, my phone goes off before my 'call Sam' alarm has a chance to.

Grinning ear to ear, I rip it off the charger.

—

What...have I gotten myself into?

Now that I've committed to diving in the pool, I'm afraid I might drown in it.

I didn't see Dean this past Sunday, and I'm grateful ...