Bee's Story, My Story Ch. 12 - Sex Stories

Bee's Story, My Story Ch. 12

... a drop of milk on his lower lip, and I gingerly wiped it away with my thumb, bringing it to my lips to suck clean. His smile fell as he looked distracted by the whole thing.

"You know... you CAN just drink from me. You don't always HAVE to make me cum." I explained, feigning irritation.

He let his hands slide down to my hips, his fingers gently rubbing the waistband of my panties. "Oh, trust me, I know. But I DO have to." He gave me a cocky smile, and I couldn't help smiling back. I shook my head slowly, realizing that maybe this whole thing was giving him some much needed confidence. I turned my hips and lifted my leg, giving his cock room as I got off of him.

"Well. I GUESS that means I should return the favor." I said sarcastically, yet unable to hide my smile. I pushed the table back again, and got down on my knees in front of him. I reached forward and took his cock in my hand, gripping him. I did my best to work my shoulders seductively, as I looked up at him. Watching his mouth go slack and his eyes lose a little focus as I started to pump him. I let my gaze drop to the task in front of me, and exhaled heavily as I watched my hand work him. He made my hands look so small-

---Can I just... take a second to vent here for a bit? God he has a nice fucking cock. It's literally unfair. I could have gone my entire life without ever seeing it or knowing what he's working with. But now I'm HERE. Fully aware that I'm not supposed to be doing this. That I'm not ...

... supposed to even THINK about this. And it sounds RIDICULOUS to me now. It's like if dogs could understand how GOOD chocolate is while fully cognizant of the fact that it's toxic for them. And no, it's not JUST about his cock, of course it's not. But it doesn't help. It started this whole thing. It would maybe have been different if I wasn't already curious and fantasizing, and he moved in and I just accidentally saw him one time. Maybe then I would have reacted the way I'm supposed to react, without all this time that I've had to think about it, about him, in this light. Maybe I'd have been so unnerved by the surprise of it all, and maybe I'd have still had the curiosity after seeing that, but maybe I'd have found a reason to make him move out to avoid having to deal with my own thoughts and fantasies, and maybe I'd have gotten over it. But that didn't happen. And now I'm HERE, in my bed, using my episodic memory to flesh out the notes I took from the day I MEASURED MY LITTLE BROTHER'S DICK. Soaking wet, and thinking about how easy it would be to go wake him up and... I don't know how my life got here. I have written hundreds of words at this point, chronicling how I got here, but I still... have moments like this. Where it's a lot. It's too much. I'm crying for some reason as I write this? The confusing part is... I love this. I love what's happening. What's happened. I love him, and I love getting to share this with you guys. I don't regret any of it, and I hope I never have to. ...