When I think about Jasmine, I remember the hours of kissing. I remember the humidity of our attraction. How we locked ourselves in my bedroom, and it was like we turned into teenagers fogging up the windows as we wrestled in the backseat of a car at Makeout Point. But most of all, I remember the Rubbing Game.
She started it. After an hour of rolling around on my bed, feeling each other up, slowly passing goal post after goal post; shoes off, bra off, pants unbuttoned, shirts off, jeans off, finally naked under the covers, skin on skin touching, but not going any farther.
She was so super wet when I rolled on my back and she straddled me. She just sort of pressed my cock between the lips of her pussy and just held it there, rubbing against me, as we started to kiss again.
Then it was the maddening pressure and frustration on top of pleasure. She rubbed back and forth, grinding down and moaning as we continued to kiss. Occasionally she would sit up and let me suck her nipples, one at a time, as she closed her eyes and got lost in the nearly frictionless rubbing back and forth.
We would both jump when inevitably my cock would slip into her. Just the head, just for a second, then she would raise up and put me back in position so that she could rub more.
It went on and on like that until I ached, until we both ached, until I almost came from just the rubbing. Until our moans became desperate whimpers.
I watched her grow more and more dreamy, her eyes half open as she rubbed against me, wetter and wetter, as rocked her hips.
When I slipped in again, she gasped loudly, and my hand went to her hips. She pulled up, almost pulling me out, but when she came back down I somehow slipped in farther. She was so wet it was like she was pulling me right into her.
Her whines and moans grew, but there were no words. Somehow she went back to the motion of rubbing, but I was inside of her, and it was turning into fucking. When I pushed up against her, the whole length of my cock was finally inside of her after so long, and she cried out and pushed down against me.
We fucked in that forbidden space. It was just supposed to be rubbing. It wasn’t supposed to slip in. We should have stopped. We needed to go back to rubbing. But our bodies were set in a new motion. We pistoned against each other, my cock pounding into her.
When she babbled the word “coming,” there was a franticness in her movements. She didn’t know what to hold on to, she thrashed against me as she tried to keep riding me as her body shook and writhed.
I held her hips and thrusted up, fucking her from under her as she came. As I felt her shivers and her tightening around me, I finally came too. It was almost painful after so long. The heat of her and the wetness seemed to envelop me. My mind went blank as all I knew was continuing the motions, the thrusting, the pushing, until I shot hot come inside of her over and over again.
She felt it, and she knew, and she held onto me as I came.
After the chaos, she kissed me again, tenderly. I felt a calm come over me for a moment, but her kisses didn’t stop. She kissed me and moved to my neck, sucking my earlobe and then biting my neck, her hips starting again.
My cock grew hard again, slowly, as she coaxed it with her building motion. She wanted more, though, and though I was spent, I had to give her what she wanted.