American Goth by J. D. Glass

Author:J. D. Glass [Glass, J. D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Thrillers, Contemporary, General, Gothic, Lesbians, Goth Culture (Subculture), Lesbian, Love Stories
ISBN: 9781602820029
Publisher: Bella Distribution
Published: 2008-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

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Work. No one ever, anywhere, had ever described the traditional missionary position as work, but it was. The first time had been pretty easy: we were both so high, so revved, had already been so close to coming from everything else, that it seemed like scant seconds before her hands dug, fucking good and fucking hard, into my back as she arched under me, with my lips drinking the sweat from the skin on her throat while the proud jut of her breast, the swollen and contracted point, rolled under my palm.

The pure, primal way she groaned into my ear made me respond with a frantic breathlessness. The need to hear that sound again and again pounded through me, was a bodily pulse that focused through my clit to my cock and drove the thrust to what it was, slick and hot, heavy, fast, and hard.

God that turned me on…the body-to-body so close, the ardent press…to know Fran was coming with my dick inside her, to know she came because of it…that I could make her come with my cock…and as my abs contracted with the effort of building to that final release, all I could think of was the way her cunt would suck on my fingers when she came and I knew she’d milk my dick the same way.

She meant so much to me.

We held each other close, and I stroked the hair away from her face, off her forehead, then lay soft kisses on her brow, on her cheeks as she nestled her lips into my neck.

“You okay, Frankie?” I asked finally as the blood tide receded and she pulled the quilt over us. Somewhere in the middle we’d managed to get my pants the rest of the way off.

“Mm-hmm,” she answered, trailing silky fingertips along my spine. “You?”

“Great,” I told her and kissed her softly. I shifted carefully, not wanting to hurt her or cause discomfort.

“Stay,” she asked, and she held my hip for emphasis.

“You sure?”

She kissed me in answer and as the kiss deepened, her mouth once again sweet and warm and so, so soft around my tongue, the comfort of our contact changed, evolved, from easy glide to crawling need. Once hadn’t been enough for either of us—what with finding the right angle and staying there, to making sure there were no accidental exits—this was about making certain that this time was even better for her than the last.

When her ankles locked behind mine, we’d found the right groove, the rhythm and stroke that worked for both of us, wrapping into a sync that made me reach and hold her tighter even as I moved on her, in her. And as the thought flitted through my head that this was something I could do forever, for the first time since I’d phoned the States in the summer, Nina’s face floated through my mind and I felt a twin-touch of sorrow stab at my chest.

Forever was not something that could ever be, not on any level, not for me.

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