Serena grabbed two cans from the fridge and returned to the living room, where Simon had made himself comfortable on her new sofa. She grinned at him as she threw one of the cans in his direction.
“Good to see you trust our handiwork, Simon.”
He smiled back at her, before cracking the can and raising it in her direction. “A toast. To the quality of our handiwork!”
She tapped her can against his; they both drank deeply. It had been a long day. She still couldn’t believe he’d responded to that slightly panicky post she’d put up during the week, especially given that they hadn’t seen each other in years.
He leaned forward, suddenly looking serious. “God, Serena, I just realised how late it is. What time is your daughter coming home? Do you need me gone by-”
She laughed, struck suddenly by just how much he’d helped. “Don’t worry, she’s with her dad until Monday morning. I’d been planning on spending the whole weekend unloading and putting all this furniture together. You coming round to help out just bought me a day and a half to myself.”
“Excellent! I didn’t have plans anyway. And now you’ve moved in around the corner from me!”
Serena sipped her beer again. It had taken two years to get to this point, ever since Emily’s father had left her. Two years of scrimping and saving, two years of being back in her parents’ house with her infant daughter while she scrambled to pull together enough money to get on the property ladder. And now here she was, in her own place, drinking beer with an old friend on a Saturday evening, with no obligations for another day and a half. “You’re going to have to warn me which of the coffee shops actually sell good coffee and which ones are full of pretentious hipsters.”
It was his turn to laugh. “That’s easy. Grind is both. I’d burn the place down if they didn’t make such good Americanos.” Fuck, she’d missed this. Easy, casual conversation. Impromptu beers. Hell, handsome male company. Wait, was Simon handsome? Shit, he was; he’d lost about fifty pounds since college, and someone had clearly explained to him how to pick clothes that looked good on him.
“So I should head down tomorrow morning, buy my coffee, and only then torch the place?”
“Sounds good. Just make sure it’s after 11. I have an early training session in the pool and I want to get my coffee too before you turn it into a burning wreck.”
She stood up and crossed the floor to where he was seated. “Move over, you. That box full of books is not a long-term seating solution. And I’m going to lean against you for body heat.”
He shifted slightly, lifting one arm to rest across the back of the sofa. She curled up, sitting only slightly closer against him than would be reasonable. What the hell was she thinking? Simon was an old friend. He had a girlfriend. But all she was doing was leaning against him, and the closeness was intoxicating. She tried not to think about how long it had been since she’d sat like this with any man, before realising that his arm was shifting down and draping over her shoulder. “Does this help with the body heat?”
There was no way he couldn’t know the effect he was having. Her heart raced. She was sure he was flirting back, escalating. She tried to tell herself that was all it was, harmless flirting. Just a couple of friends winding each other up. She wriggled further into him and wrapped his arm around her so that his hand rested against her hip. “This feels like it should do the job, thank you very much.”
She felt a fingertip stroking the bare skin of her hip. Her blouse must have ridden up. Fuck, he was gentle, only barely touching her. And yet she felt herself getting aroused out of all proportion. She hadn’t felt like this in years, that giddy feeling of recklessness and desire. She sighed involuntarily, and felt his whole hand on her now, still infuriatingly gentle. She was sure he could hear her heart pounding in her chest, feel her breath quicken, smell the adrenaline rushing through her. And yet it still felt as though to him it was mere affection and mild teasing, no more.
“Simon, can I ask you a strange question?”
She felt the instant of hesitation as his hand stopped for only a fraction of a second. “Sure.”
She pulled away from him, sat up straight and faced him. “Am I still hot?”
He looked thoroughly confused. “Wait, what?”
“I’m serious. I haven’t been on a date in four years. I’ve barely been out since Emily was born. And I’m a single mother. I’m not exactly a catch.” Fuck, she could feel tears begin to build up. This was embarrassing; it had been cozy and a little sexy, and now here she was blurting out her insecurities. “Am I still – am I still desirable?”
“Are you kidding me, Serena? You look even better than you did in college. You haven’t been on dates because you’ve been raising a kid, not because you somehow stopped being hot as fuck. The moment you go back out there, you’ll see just how sexy you still are.”
It was now or never. She looked him dead in the eye.
“Tell me more about how I’m hot as fuck, Simon.”
She could see his pupils flaring from here.
“You always were, Serena, and looking at how tight that top is, becoming a mother just made you even hotter. Fuck, I’m struggling to think straight when I look directly at you. I spent all day having to tell myself to stop checking you out.”
She straddled him and took his hands in hers, guiding them to the buttons on her blouse. “The work’s done, Simon. You don’t have to stop any more.” One button undone. “You say I’m still hot.” Two buttons. “Show me.” Three buttons. “Make me feel sexy.” Four, five, six buttons.
His hands went to her shoulders, pushing the fabric off them; she pulled the sleeves off behind her back. He ran a hand through her hair, fingertips against her scalp. She leaned forward and he parted her lips with his tongue; she closed her eyes, feeling his lips on hers, the tips of their tongues against each other, almost shy with each other. His other hand went behind her back; she felt her bra being undone, and pulled it off. He pulled her against him, pressing them together; her nerve endings were singing with arousal.
Without a word, he moved his mouth to her neck, kissing her softly, moving downwards inch by inch. She felt his hands cup her breasts, felt her nipples harden beneath his fingers. Before long, he was leaning forward to take a nipple in his mouth; she shifted herself higher and pushed his face into her chest. He sucked, gently at first, then harder, switching repeatedly his saliva smearing across her breasts. She felt a charge of obscene, animalistic lust as his hands ran up her bare legs beneath her skirt, her tits still against his face. “Oh fuck, Simon, make me come…” she moaned.
He pulled her underwear down, fondling her bare ass with both hands. Again he pulled her tighter against him, still sucking her tits, a hand sliding between her legs from behind to part her labia and slide a finger inside her, before pulling out to stroke her clit. Slow at first, her hips twitching periodically as her orgasm began to build, then faster, in time with her movements, his other hand squeezing and stroking her ass. It was her turn to run her hands through his hair now, as he licked and sucked her breasts hard enough to draw periodic gasps.
She was overwhelmed, all her senses on fire, barely able to believe the intensity of what she was feeling. Waves of pleasure washed over her as she felt the orgasm rise, faster and faster, until she was moaning long and deeply. Her pussy was soaked; her clit was right on the edge; she thrilled to the roughness of his hand on her ass. When she came, she buckled against him, unable to hold up her own weight; they came face to face, kissing as she howled desperately into his mouth.
He held her close for a couple of minutes after her orgasm finished, stroking her shoulders and nibbling idly on her ear. Even in her post-orgasmic glow, she was turned on. She could feel his erection straining against his jeans, could almost hear his heart pumping. She climbed off him and knelt on the floor, but when she went to unbutton his jeans he pulled her up. She couldn’t believe her own disappointment; this was surely the first time she was this eager to suck a cock.
“Do you not want me to?” she asked. He stood and unbuttoned his jeans before sitting back down, a shy grin on his face.
“Would you be willing to curl up on the sofa while you do? I want to run my hands all over you while you do it…”
In an instant, she was on the sofa, his cock already in her hand. She felt its heat against her fingers, wanted it in her mouth. Her tongue flicked out, barely touching the tip; he groaned deeply as his hips twitched in anticipation. Again she licked it lightly; again he struggled to cope with his arousal. She could see the tension in his muscles; it was taking all his self-control to let her dictate the pace. Desire was radiating off him; she decided it would be mean to keep teasing. Her lips closed around his shaft as her tongue swirled around the tip. She felt a hand in her hair, another squeezing her ass so hard it was almost painful. He pushed further into her mouth, slowly, centimetre by centimetre, fondling her all the while. This was far more than she’d hoped for, more than she’d have even fantasised about.
She reached a hand down between her legs, slid two fingers inside herself. Soaked. His hand was still squeezing and stroking her as she sucked harder now, matching her rhythm to her masturbation. Their fingers met for a moment at her pussy; he responded by rubbing her ass in time with her fingers, the two of them in perfect sync.
His breath was becoming ragged. “Oh fuck, Serena, you’re gonna make me come so-” No more words, just a guttural growl as he climaxed, filling her mouth to overflowing. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever been so turned on, still licking and sucking him, come sliding ever so slowly down her face and his cock. She was almost at the point of no return herself; she held him in her mouth as her fingers sped up between her legs. Spent, Simon was better able to focus on her; she felt his hands roaming all over her, fondling, stroking, squeezing as she moaned. Her orgasm peaked, a shuddering spasm of pleasure as she lay on the sofa, her mouth filled with cock, every inch of her being played with.
They lay like that for a few minutes, silent except for the heavy breathing as they recovered. Eventually, Serena got up on unsteady legs and padded back across the apartment to the kitchen. She took out another beer and brought it back to Simon. He looked confused.
“Are you not going to have one?”
“I’m going to the shower, so I can wash off your come. You stay here and enjoy your drink, I’ll be back out in a few minutes.”
Grinning, he popped the tab and drank deeply.
In the shower, she tried to make sense of what had just happened. She knew she shouldn’t have done it – he had a girlfriend! she had a kid, she couldn’t just throw caution to the wind! – but she couldn’t deny that she’d felt hotter in the last half hour than she’d felt in perhaps half a decade, that she’d felt as though every inch of her was the sexiest it had ever been in her life. As she rinsed off the soap, she decided that there was no point in trying to unring this particular bell, so she may as well just enjoy its chimes. She dried herself off, went to her bedroom and called into the living room.
“Are you ready for dessert, Simon?”
His footsteps were quick and surprisingly light. In a moment, he was facing her, as naked as she was. He reached out to her, but she stopped him. “Can you lie on the bed for me, Simon?”
That grin again. He climbed in and lay back, hands behind his head. She produced a small foil wrapper and ripped it open, pulling out the condom. He was already almost completely stiff, and hardened further as her fingers reached his cock. She unrolled it slowly, bit by bit down his shaft until it was at the base. Now it was her turn to climb onto the bed, prowling towards him on her hands and knees. She swung a leg over him, straddling him again as his hands found her hips. He waited for a moment as she directed him inside her, then began to move with her as she rose and fell on his cock.
She could see his face clearly now, as he ran a hand down her belly and used his thumb to stroke her soaking clit. She could see his eyes, heavy with arousal, focus shifting rapidly from her hips to her chest to her eyes to her mouth to her belly. She could feel the urgency in his touch, the desperate desire to run his hands all over her, to feel every inch of her. She ground her hips back and forward, her clit sending pulses of pleasure through her body as he played with it. She needed more, needed to feel completely given over to this arousal.
She shifted her knees behind her, her pussy still filled with his cock; she came to rest on her elbows, on top of him and their faces barely an inch apart. They kissed each other hard as his hands ran down her back and cupped her ass. She pushed her arms underneath him, pulled herself against him as he slid deeper inside her. He broke off their kiss and buried his face in the nape of her neck, half-kissing and half-biting her as they gradually picked up speed. Before long, his mouth returned to hers; by now, she could feel him straining to hold off his orgasm, and realised with a thrill that her own was imminent.
Their breathing became ragged, their kisses messy and hungry. Hers arrived first; she slammed her hips against his and moaned into his mouth, and felt him climax a couple of seconds later. They were wrapped so tightly together by now that she felt almost glued to him as they bucked and groaned, muscles straining with the intensity of their orgasms.
Eventually, the pleasure subsided. Serena found herself barely able to move, draped on top of Simon. She felt his cock gradually go limp and slide out of her; as she rolled off him, he stood and removed the condom and threw it in the garbage can. He turned to her, a serious expression on his face.
“Serena, we should probably talk about-”
She put a finger to her lips. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell your girlfriend. That’s a decision for you to make. If you stay with her, I still have this night to remember. If you split up, maybe we can make more memories. But you don’t owe me anything.”
He looked thoroughly mystified. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Like I said earlier, I couldn’t remember the last time I felt really sexy – the last time I felt like I was really fucking hot, not just attractive enough to fuck. This was…well, it was incredible. You made me feel like a goddess. I’m not going to demand anything else of you. If you want to go home and pretend this never happened, I’m okay with that – you gave me everything I wanted today.”
He was silent, his brow furrowed. She had an idea.
“Simon?”
“Yeah?”
“We’ve gone this far, and neither of us have anywhere we have to be until Monday morning. You don’t have to decide now. You can just climb back in here, we can see how tomorrow goes, and then you can decide.”
He smiled, not his usual grin, a strange conflicted smile. “You make a good point. And I’m absolutely exhausted right now.” He pulled the covers back and got back into bed beside her; she pushed herself against him, an arm draped across his torso, a leg hooked over his leg. She felt his fingers idly stroking her hair, heard his heartbeat slowing gradually as he fell asleep. She felt her own eyes growing heavy, felt sleep creeping up on her.
“Goodnight, Simon. And thank you.”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/gm9q6c/movingin_day_serena_and_simon_mf_vanilla_but