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Rachel and Stephen Ch. 01

By: laurelcoronet



*Fair warning: no sex in this chapter! There's some attempted solo at the end, but no happy ending.*



I was reclined on my miniscule patio, sipping a wine cooler when I heard a clink, alerting me to someone else's presence. I wondered lazily who it was, but it was about ten o'clock in the evening, and that perfect summer night temperature that seems to just melt away your inhibitions and worries, so I couldn't muster up too much alarm. I tried to worry – what if it was a rapist? But my relaxed brain retorted that as long as it was a hot rapist, I was cool with it. Snickering at my line of thought, I grimaced as I finally slowly sat up. I flopped right back down in the chair when I saw who it was sliding open the glass patio door, wine glass and a bottle in one hand and a 6-pack in the other.

Stephen and I had been best friends since our sophomore year at college. We'd started off study buddies, but after a fumbling, drunken kiss one night at a party that made zero sparks, we'd laughed together enough that we were suddenly friends. (Embarrassingly enough, the kiss had been initiated by me, a fact that he still won't let me forget.) 5 years later we were still close, and there were times like now when he was really my only friend. He was attractive – but if the lack of chemistry wasn't enough, we were also polar opposites. Romance was impossible for us, but friendship worked out great.

"Stephennnn," I groaned, "The key was for emergencies..." I tried to sound stern, but I was sure he could hear the smile in my voice. "Raaach," he imitated in a nasally tone, "It waaas an emergencyyy." I rolled my eyes doubtfully in his direction, feeling too lazy to sit up and direct the glare that he deserved his way. "Oh, yeah?" I said.

"Yes!" he said plaintively. "Danielle is still out of town, so I was bored, and then I realized I was out of beer as well..." "You have beer," he added unnecessarily after a short pause.

My sigh turned into a snort, humor winning out over my exasperation, as it always seemed to do with him. I glanced out over the night-time horizon again, contemplating the nature of our friendship. He was really the only person I could laugh at instead of being irritated with over things like this. We were so different in so many ways that I was always surprised by how well we got along.

I was a studious business major, now working my way up in a small but decent firm, while he was a philosophy major who bounced job-to-job; last year a zoo guide, right now working on a construction crew. Stephen did whatever suited his ever-changing fancy – and financed his lifestyle with a pretty large trust left him by his parents. Lifestyle. Now there was another difference between the two of us. I had been feeling adventurous because I had skipped the cleaning that I knew the kitchen needed and had been lounging with a wine-cooler instead. Stephen, however, was a classic playboy. Out clubbing three nights a week, never exclusive, and going right out to meet a new girl as soon as his current diversion headed out of town. In fact, it was odd that he had been alone simply because Danielle was gone. On the other hand, I was a bit of a loner, single for the last 8 months and perfectly (okay, mostly) okay with it. I kept him down to earth – and he made sure I remembered how to laugh. It worked.

The clink of glass drew my attention again, and I wrinkled my nose as he handed me a wine glass filled with champagne before flopping into the lounger next to me with his beer. "On sale!" he said defensively, catching my look. I sighed as I took a drink, and wondered why Stephen was here. Danielle's absence wouldn't normally keep him in, and I wondered if something was on his mind.

We sat in companionable silence, and as the champagne added to my earlier wine cooler began to sink in, I studied Stephen. Feeling less inhibited than usual, I marveled at how attractive he really was. He was tall – 6'2" to my 5'8", and nicely toned from his recent construction work. I spent a moment admiring the play of muscles in his arm before ruefully catching the direction of my attention, realizing that I didn't want the endless ribbing that would follow if he were to catch me checking him out. I moved on to his features. To me, they were filled with his sarcastic sense of humor and hidden sensitivity, but I tried to see past to what another girl might see. He had nice, even features, and I happened to know that when he smiled, it took him from nice looking to fantasy-inspiring – not that I'd ever had fantasies about him, other than a few vague dreams that left me awkwardly trying to forget them the next day. I shifted uncomfortably, not liking my train of thought. Although Stephen was handsome (beyond handsome, said the wine in my bloodstream,) he also sported a cocky grin nearly nonstop that screamed "I get what I want." I smiled, realizing how glad I was to be happy with his friendship, instead of being enraptured by his looks and reaching for the inevitable pain of trying to win his heart.

As he stretched, my attention was drawn to his musculature again and then inward to an unpleasant truth – the temperate night and the alcohol washing through my system had me feeling languorous, confidently sexy, and horny to the point of arousal. I suddenly felt like doing something crazy – maybe going out and bringing home a one night stand to sate the sudden pangs of need in the pit of my stomach.

I breathed a deep, heart-felt sigh, knowing that I lacked the courage to ever do something like that, and then glanced over in surprise as a sigh echoed out from Stephen nearly in unison. 

We met each other's eyes, smiling ruefully.

"You first," I said.

"Ahh..." he paused.

"Go on, I know something's up! Why aren't you out with your latest mistress??" I rolled my eyes dramatically, giggling.

He tossed a beer can tab at me playfully, and then sobered down. "Well, Danielle's out of town... But I know what you mean," he sighed. "You know, Rach, I really don't know. I've been feeling restless lately – with any girl, not just Danielle. And it seems like they're all the same. Honestly, I'm thinking of taking a break from the whole game."

The whole time he was talking, I was thinking about what his relationships probably consisted of – and my mind was stuck between my legs. Knowing I was crossing a line, but feeling restless, daring, and above all, curious, I teased "But what about your insatiable sexual appetite?" My body thrilled a little at my daring, and I immediately felt embarrassed. Oh god, here I was sitting next to my best friend talking about his sex life, and I was horny enough that I could feel a sticky dampness starting between my thighs.

But as the words passed my lips, his eyebrows shot up, and I could see a little gleam in his eyes as he sat up and looked straight at me. I stretched and grinned, feeling sexy and daring, unlike my usual level-headed self. I even held the stretch a moment longer than necessary – almost hoping that I looked sexy too. I watched smugly as the apprehensive look on his face faded and the sparkle in his eyes bloomed in to a full on grin, as he went through the same reasoning that I had already processed. He was a little tipsy, I was a little tipsy, and this conversation would fulfill our need for something excited and sexy without really mattering tomorrow.

He leaned towards me, looking sly and grinning. "Well, Rachel," he murmured in a low confiding tone, "I know you love to play the innocent... But I think we both know how self-sufficient I can be."

I drew in a breath, a little alarmed at the turn the conversation had taken, but before I could say anything he cut me off. "Come on, Rach... I was built with all the equipment I really need." He waggled his right hand at me in a suggestive little wave, and then doubled over in loud laughter at the look on my suddenly flushed face.

"Stephen!!" I sputtered awkwardly, "Ew!" He laughed even harder, and still feeling uncomfortable, I fell back on self-righteousness (which unfortunately comes easily to me.) "What has it been, a week?? I'm sure you can last longer without... well... you know..." I finished lamely. I glanced down again, feeling a little panicky. I was in over my head, and it was getting more awkward by the second.

Stephen rolled his eyes at me, throwing his arm out in a lazy shrug, and I absentmindedly noticed that he had splashed some beer out onto the concrete patio. "And why would I deny myself, Rachel? Even for a week? It feels gooood." He grinned wickedly at my discomfiture. Suddenly, my desperate mind was picturing the hand on his beer wrapped around a cock, pumping up and down. I had never seen the act... and had never seen Stephen, other than soft in a pair of boxer briefs a few times – but I was picturing it all now. My breathing was shallow, wavering between panic and arousal. I shifted on the chair, suddenly feeling the slats of the lounger pressing into my thighs, the nervous sweat moistening the armpits of my tshirt, and the warm wind that seemed to be giving me goosebumps. I was also entirely too aware of the aching desperation deep in my abdomen. I had to say something, had to break the tension and somehow distract my brain. "If I can make 8 months then you can make a week!" I blurted abruptly, immediately flushing so red that my neck and face burned. 

"Oh, come on," groaned Stephen, caught up in the playful flirtation and failing to notice my sudden vulnerability. "Rachel," he teased warningly, "I told you not to play the innocent with me..." His voice deepened, sounding almost intimidating, although the grin on his face still reassured me. But nothing could hold off the wave of panic sweeping through me. I did not want to talk about this, but I could see no way to end the mess I had created.

"You know I haven't seen anyone since David and I broke it off..." I said weakly, wincing when I realized that I was verging on whining. Nervous sweat prickled all over as I waited for him to think through the implications. Unfortunately, the alcohol in his system seemed to have dulled his mind enough to prevent the easy way out that I was hoping for.

He snorted, and then looking at me again, winked suggestively. "Rach, I think maybe the real question isn't whether you've seen anyone - but if you've seen anything. I think we both know that just because you haven't, ah, been assisted, doesn't mean there hasn't been some... relief..." He chuckled, clearly pleased with his turn of phrase, and I just sat silently, not knowing what I could say. Unfortunately, he interpreted my silence as a lack of understanding. "You know," he continued loudly, "maybe been seeing something, like a toy...?" I winced as he opened his mouth again, looking gleeful. "Or maybe, maybe you haven't been seeing anything but yourself..." he grinned delightedly, continuing, "Maybe, you don't need a toy... You know, I was unfortunately forced to realize how passionate you are when I spent that month living on your and David's couch, and I have to say, from what I heard and saw --" He turned, grinning, but trailed off abruptly when he saw me. 

I was bolt upright on the lounge chair, hands clenched together in my lap, desperately willing the puddles in my eyes to stay put as I battled shame and embarrassment. To compound it all, my head was swirling with the effects of the wine, and a faint ache of arousal still refused to fade entirely from the depths of my abdomen and the back of my mind. As he looked at me, I forced myself to make momentary eye contact and shook my head, just two abrupt shakes.

"Oh, Rach..." there was regret in his voice, but I still couldn't force myself to look at Stephen's eyes. I focused intently on the chair between my criss-crossed legs. I knew this wasn't the sort of conversation that you had with a straight guy – not your best friend, and friend only, nothing more. I was overwhelmingly aware of his maleness at the moment – and my fuzzy feeling mind and hormone storm were not helping my composure. 

"Why not?" he asked softly.

I shrugged, unable to put the feeling of wrongness I had into words. 'Why not, though?' I thought silently, and the wild reckless feeling of need came rushing back to me suddenly. Stephen looked at me intently, waiting for an answer, and my pulse sped up. I was punch drunk, headed towards real drunk, and the night spun around his brown eyes, sparkling to the point that they almost looked feverish. I held his intent gaze, and my mouth opened, but I didn't know what was going to come out of it.

"Rachel," he said intently, "It will feel good. Your body was made to do it. All my exes have done it, and thoroughly enjoyed it..." He sounded more urgent as I failed to respond. "There's no shame in sexual pleasure! Okay, hold on. Let's say you and I were attracted that way after all. Would you find it shameful to use our bodies together to get pleasure for you??" 

I considered his words for a second, totally taken aback, but the reasonable part of my mind reached an easy conclusion. He was right. I wouldn't have any problem with that – no problem at all, in fact.

Suddenly realizing that I was thinking in detail about sex with Stephen, I groaned and sprang up out of my chair. None too steady on my feet, I carefully enunciated."Stephen. It is 2 am. I'm exhausted and drunk and so man-starved that I am feeling desperately horny – and you're not much better. Go get a cab. Go home."

I relaxed slightly as he slowly stood and headed toward the patio door, tensing again when he turned for a parting shot. "It's like they say – if you aren't even attracted to yourself, then why would anyone else be? No one is going to help you out of your "man-starved" state if you stay cold and controlled. Just relax, and be the sexy passionate girl that's really in there."

Too awkward to respond, I silently picked up his empty bottles and my glass and took them into the kitchen, ignoring his exit.

I slowly walked into the bedroom, sitting down heavily on the edge of my bed and smoothing my hands across my sage green quilt. I glanced at the digital clock on my bedside table. Ugh. 2 am and I had to be up for work at 7:30 tomorrow. Tonight had gotten out of hand in too many ways.

Shaking my head, I stood up and started to wiggle out of my clothes; first my sweatpants and t-shirt, then my no nonsense cotton bra and underwear. As I did, I muttered irritably at myself. "What were you thinking, Rachel? You know Stephen is experienced, you know you're the modest one. You should have known better than to play with fire!" But even as I said it I was feeling that restless ache, and a little wild around the edges. However much I wanted to be responsible, I knew I couldn't sleep yet. I felt a little smug as I ran through the night in my head. I was pretty sure that I had pulled off being flirty and surprised Stephen with my unusual daring, even if I had stumbled a little at the end. I wasn't sure how much flirting counted for when neither party was interested, but it still felt good.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror hanging on my door, and moved closer, trying to picture what men saw when they looked at me. My dark blonde hair, creased by my ponytail holder, fell just past my shoulders to frame a face that was... okay. I felt as though I verged on plain – full but simple lips, no dramatic cheekbones, and wide bluish grey eyes that made me look almost childlike. I was proud of my body, though. Flat stomach, long tapering legs – although they were thicker around the thigh than I would have preferred. My gaze fell on my breasts. They were large for my slender frame – a 34D. They looked nice enough with the support of my bra, but I had always felt like they hung a little heavily. I cupped my hands around them, lifting them an inch or two and eyeing myself critically, then letting them slip down to settle again. I sucked in sharply as a nipple brushed my hand, sensation zinging straight to my groin, and I was suddenly uncomfortably aware of the moisture that was still faintly lingering between my thighs. I flushed again, remembering Stephen's words. Was it even possible for me to be attracted to myself? What I really needed, I thought desperately, was for a guy to be here. To suck my nipples firmly the way that I loved and then maybe to slip lower with his tongue... stroking until I spasmed into orgasm...

I realized my eyes were closed. Feeling hot and none too steady, I sank down to a sitting position on my tan carpet, still in front of the mirror. I saw my eyes widen in the mirror as I realized that, by sitting Indian style, I had exposed everything. Every flushed fold was reflected back at me, framed between my closely trimmed brown curls, and I bit my lip at the moisture I could see glistening around my entrance. Feeling incredibly naughty, I pulled my legs open, bringing my knees up as I spread myself. I was red with embarrassment, but totally captivated, and I watched unbelieving as I slid my hand from the carpet at my side across my thigh and towards my core. I could just try it, I thought desperately, shaking with need. I slowly reached down, and then catching my breath in nervousness, slid my index finger in, marveling at the slick warmth. I paused, pulling my finger out slightly before shoving it deeper into my wetness, but I felt uncomfortable more than anything else. I pulled it back out quickly, suddenly self-conscious. There was no thrill of pleasure like I'd been hoping for. I studied my folds again, feeling a desperate need to cum, and my glance fell on my clit at the apex of my labia, swollen enough to barely peek out. I hesitantly sat my finger on that pink button, and rubbed up and down hoping to duplicate the sensation that a man's mouth gave me in the same action. It was electric – too electric. It didn't feel good; it felt tingly and uncomfortable, like somebody was shocking me with one of those trick pens. Suddenly, discomfort and shame rushed over me. I stood up quickly, walked to the bathroom to brush my teeth, and then dove under the covers of my queen-sized bed, praying to forget it all by the morning.

Rachel and Stephen Ch. 02



Hey guys, apologies to those who were sad at the ending of the last chapter, as well as the creepy guy who emailed me threateningly about "not wanting to be disappointed"! I'm striving for realism here, and I think a lot of women who were late to masturbation have had moments like Rachel's. This chapter should perk you up a little, and I promise it just keeps getting better each chapter. Be forewarned, there's no PIV sex, but I think there's plenty here for you to enjoy.

A second apology as well for taking so long to get this up! I submitted a month ago and didn't realize it had been rejected due to improper formatting until today (when I logged on to submit the 3rd chapter!) For that reason, I'm putting the second and third chapters up at the same time, so you guys are in luck if you're feeling impatient.

******

The next morning did not dawn well. Shame and a light hangover do not make for a good combination, especially when accompanied by oversleeping. Nevertheless, by the end of the workday when Stephen called, I had shaken it off for the most part. However, nerves flared through me as I saw the name on the screen, leaving me nauseous as I answered with a subdued hello. In my mind, I chanted a mantra of 'Please don't be awkward, please don't be awkward,' into the silence that followed my greeting.

I didn't need to have worried. After the sound of shuffling papers, Stephen's familiar voice echoed cheerfully down the line. "Rachel! Pack your bags. Bring some nice stuff. Take work off 'til the weekend."

"Uh, what?" I responded, confused.

"We're going to Vegas! See you in an hour." And the line went dead with a clunk.

I sighed, shaking my head as I glanced back at my laptop screen. There was just absolutely no way that I could possibly do that. I had no idea what Stephen was thinking, but it obviously wasn't going to happen -- but that uninhibited wildness washed through me again suddenly, stilling my hand as I reached for the phone to call Stephen back. "You know, why the hell not?" I said out loud. I picked up the phone after all, but this time to call my boss instead.

45 minutes later, my bravado had fled again, and I was sitting on my bed, two-thirds of the way packed and feeling panicky. I heard the apartment door open, and rushed into the living room. I was talking a mile a minute before Stephen even had the door closed behind him.

"Okay, Stephen, there is no way, just no possible way that this could work. I'm 24 -- an adult! This isn't college anymore. I mean, it's a good idea, but I just don't see any possible way, not on this late notice! But maybe in the future? Could the airline refund you? Or maybe--"

Stephen cut me off with his palm on my mouth, and I froze, tasting the faint salt of his skin. I stepped back fast, watching him laugh and shake his head. I glared at him, feeling hurt, and he quickly smoothed his face over, although there was a definite twinkle in those brown eyes.

"Rachel. Whoa. Chill for a second." I nodded reluctantly and he continued. "Okay, first things first. One -- you're only twenty-four! Still young enough to have fun, even if you like to pretend that you're in your eighties. Two -- what will keep this from working? You quite obviously need a little vacation... Did you get the time off work?"

I shrugged. "Well... yeah," I muttered, looking at the ground sheepishly. In fact, Carla (my supervisor) had expressed relief that I was finally taking advantage of some of my accumulated vacation days. Maybe I really did need a break.

Stephen continued, "Oh, and three -- we're not flying. That doesn't get you off the hook though." As he walked into my bedroom, he began to throw all the dresses and old clubwear outfits that I'd been agonizing over into my suitcase. His voice carried down the hallway to where I stood. "We have reservations at a nice little Motel 6 for tonight... no backing out now."

"Stephen..." I groaned, exasperated. He was far too cheerful, and now sitting on my suitcase to squish it enough to make it possible to zip. He grinned. "I'm kidding, Rach, it's a Best Western, and no whining cause that's the best they've got in the little town we'll be stopping in. I figured it's as far as we could reasonably make it in one night considering how late we're leaving, and although I don't want this drive to take more than the three days that I calculated, I don't want to die of exhaustion either."

Having finally defeated the suitcase, he picked it up, strolling towards me, as I stood still frozen in indecision. "Rachel. Let's go. I could use a diversion, and God knows you are wound tighter than a freaking spring. You clearly need some kind of stress relief, and maybe you'll meet a solution in Vegas." He smirked at the look on my face, and ignoring my open-mouthed sputtering, herded me and my luggage out the door, down the stairs, and into his waiting pickup truck.

******

Twenty minutes later, I had my hand over my eyes, resentfully shading them from the intense orange sunset light that was filtering in through my window.

"Stephen, why on earth are we driving?" I whined, sounding petulant even to myself. "It's got to be close to a 20 hour drive."

"Not quite," he said, glancing at me with a mysterious expression that I couldn't interpret. "Actually, I had sort of a proposition to make, and this suits my purposes."

I looked at him sharply, though he kept his eyes closely trained on the road. "What?" I queried, trying to sound impatient but instead sounding shaken. Oh God. He couldn't possibly mean... I could hear his voice last night all over again. 'Would you find it shameful to use our bodies together to get pleasure for you?'

Oh my God. I couldn't believe I had actually considered it last night. We knew we weren't compatible -- he was my friend, for god's sake! Only my friend. But my pulse sped up regardless at the thought of sleeping with him, and I inwardly glared at my libido. I really had to find a man -- thinking about Stephen this way had prickles of excitement tremoring between my legs, and he was just Stephen.

"Why are you suddenly so convinced that you need a man?" Stephen's voice broke my inner reverie and I glanced up startled, both by the seemingly random change in conversation and by the way he appeared to have read my mind.

"Uh, what?" I said stupidly, for what seemed like the 50th time that day.

"Come on, it's not like you. You're fine for nearly a year, and then suddenly you're on and on about needing to meet someone? You're fine on your own usually, and you haven't met anyone who piqued your interest so far as I know, so what gives?"

"Uh..." I tensed slightly at the unexpected tingle of pleasure between my legs as I thought of what exactly I could use a man for. Oh god, I was so desperate...

Stephen cut into my uncomfortable haze again, loudly insistent. "Come on, what is it, Rachel?"

The combination of embarrassment and discomfort coursing through me suddenly shifted to anger, and I snapped. "Damn it, Stephen! If you must know, it's been 8 fucking months and my body has needs!" Realizing what had just come out of my mouth, I felt my face light up the same fiery color as the sunset outside.

He just smiled at me, smugly enough to make me feel nervous. "I thought so!" he grinned, clearly satisfied. "There's really nothing wrong with having sexual needs, Rachel... But I am kind of appalled that you think you need a guy for that..." His voice, which had softened, brightened again. I suddenly noticed that the truck was slowing down as he continued "So! To my proposition!" As we started to turn onto a little-used dirt road, I panicked, remembering far too many dirt back roads like this, and high school boyfriends who had also had propositions.

Before I could protest, he spoke again. "My proposition involves you learning to deal with those needs -- and it doesn't involve any guy." I relaxed marginally, but I was still so uncomfortable that I was hoping for an accident, a heart attack, anything to end the conversation. "Rach, you need to be able to... get yourself off. No plainer way to say it."

Through the entire conversation, my humiliation had been building. The thick sickening embarrassment pooling in my gut battled against warm liquid desire, and the way Stephen was so blatantly and casually discussing topics like these had my head spinning. Everything seemed surreal -- and when I opened my mouth planning to be horrified and scandalized, somehow the simple truth tumbled out instead.

"I -- it doesn't work like that. It doesn't feel right... Physically, I... It just doesn't," I said, the words ending in a near whisper.

"Okay, well... That actually kind of works with my theory," Stephen said, a little hesitantly.

The truck started shuddering and lurching as we hit a rougher patch of dirt on the road, temporarily distracting me.

"Stephen, what are we..." I started, trailing off as I looked over to see a truly wicked grin on his face.

"So my theory," he said gleefully, "is that you just haven't wanted or needed it urgently enough." I wanted to protest, remembering the night before, but decided to hold my tongue, settling on nervous laughter instead. I was still feeling shocked by the conversation, not to mention burning with curiosity. However, more than anything the building desire that coursed through me kept me quiet -- the jolting truck was pushing my damp labia around against the pressure of the seat in a deliciously distracting way, and I didn't want to give away the sensation surging through me as I spoke.

"Debbie and I used to drive out here to a little lake, but every time before we could go swimming, she'd be begging me to fuck her. She said the road really got her going." He grinned again as I bit my lip hard, picturing the scene and still feeling the budding stimulation. It suddenly dawned on me -- he knew what was happening to me right now as the road shook the truck. I had been hoping he didn't notice, but this was why we were out here!

I panicked a little, feeling extremely awkward, but when I looked over at him he was already pushing the truck into third gear with a wide grin on his face. "Enjoy!" he said, as we lurched faster.

Oh God. OhGodOhGod. It was pulsing through me like nothing I'd felt before. I tried to focus on the scrub-brush scenery outside the window but I couldn't even concentrate on that for more than a second. The seam of my shorts had suddenly become an instrument of torture, rubbing my already slick panties across my clit. I shifted a little in the seat, trying hard to calm down and taking slow deep breaths to keep my breathing from speeding up, but even that little movement seemed to make it worse. Ohh my God - I was throbbing and drenched: so wet that I could feel dampness through the crotch of my shorts, moistening my inner thighs. I had to calm down, had to, couldn't let Stephen see how affected I was or I'd just die.

I could feel my breath bursting out in short pants now, but didn't have the focus left to care. I was trying desperately not to moan, and barely succeeding. I clenched my thighs together, hoping to dull the vibrations that were pulsing through my wet slit, but instead that intensified the sensation, squishing me together so I could feel every slick fold slipping up and down across my swollen clit, my slippery panties stroking across it all like a skilled lover's tongue. I felt something start to shift within me. 'Nonononono,' I silently chanted, no, my toes were not starting to tingle, no, my body was not tensing up, no, couldn't cum, couldn't orgasm, not in front of Stephen, not right here!

I distantly heard my breathing begin to descend into moans, each exhale coming a little deeper and a little louder. I had to stop - but the juddering road still massaged against my clit, and I could feel my pussy tightening so tight that it began to hurt, desperately needing spasming release, and finally, as my moans echoed in my ears, "Oh, oh, ohh, ohhh, OHHHHH," ecstasy washed through me and exploded deep in the burning tunnel nestled in between my thighs. Losing all sense of where I was, my legs involuntarily spread as my back arched and my head went back, and then I was lunging downward, grinding towards the seat and against the clump of fabric that my shorts made, reveling in my release.

"Oh... yes..." I whispered weakly, letting my head flop back to rest against the shoulder area of my seat. The small satisfied smile on my lips suddenly disappeared, though, as euphoria faded and I realized that, firstly, the truck had stopped, and secondly, Stephen had definitely been right next to me for every moment of that.

I sat up slowly, my legs till shaking, and as I stared fixedly at the floor I felt tears pool up in my eyes. I had never even dreamed of experiencing something this painfully humiliating.

"Rach?" Stephen's voice rasped out, nearly a whisper, and he cleared his throat. "Rach, did you just...?"

I nodded miserably. He sucked in a sharp breath. "Shit, Rach... Shit. You're really, really responsive..." Through the haze of my mental pain, I vaguely noticed an edge to his voice verging on awe.

"I -- my God. That was -- beautiful... I didn't mean to... I mean, I just thought I'd get you going, and you could, you could finish later... but... wow."

I looked up dully, watching him distractedly run a hand through his short curls in the pale peach and blue tones of twilight. "Rachel," he said, alarmed, "Don't be embarrassed... Seriously, that -- that rocked. You are amazing."

I shrugged, still fighting off tears. "But... In front of you..." I whispered.

He snorted, but not in a deprecating way. "Rachel, we're best friends. It really doesn't matter to me. On top of that, I'm a guy, and you're a girl, and like I said, that was amazing. In fact, I would show you my version of the same, except I feel like you're not interested." He smiled wryly, and I felt the edges of my lips lift a little, feeling more comfortable now that he was back to joking.

"Anyways, didn't it feel good?" Mischief edged his toned. "Come on... It looked like it did..." he cajoled, and I looked back at the floor as my cheeks flushed. I wondered what his view had been like, inexplicably hoping it had looked sexy. I heard his tone shift into smug at my reaction, and looked up to see a familiar smirk. "Hah, thought so!" he said with a very self-satisfied grin. With that, he was back to his usual self, and I felt myself reverting back to mine to balance him out.



Rachel and Stephen Ch. 03



An hour or so down the road, I was inwardly cursing myself as Stephen sang (off-key) along with the radio. I had been able to ignore the dirt road for the most part on the way back to the freeway, but irritatingly enough, my libido seemed to be ricocheting out of control. 'Rachel,' I told myself firmly, 'Stop this. So what if you are sex starved and that has been a frequent topic of conversation today. That is no excuse for this.' And anyway, I had just recently had a great orgasm. A really, really great one, actually... And this is where the problem was. I kept getting caught up thinking about it. Picturing it, imagining Stephen watching me. And then inevitably I would feel another flush of desire radiate through me.

By the time we reached the Best Western (which I was relieved to see didn't look too shady,) I had fallen silent, off in my own head battling my longing. Maybe, I though hesitantly, Stephen was right. At this point, it sounded great if he could be right, and I was quite willing to give it a shot. Alright then... 'Tonight, I've got a date with myself,' I thought almost giddily.

*****

By the time I had my luggage up to the room, directly next to Stephen's, I was thoroughly impatient to give it a try. I tossed my suitcase to the side, and feeling wicked and sexy, slid my hand into the waistband of my shorts. A knock sounded at the door, and I jumped, jerking my hand back. Trying to calm my breathing, I peeked through the peephole, groaning when I saw Stephen's expectant face. Desperately attempting to resist the damned blush that was again creeping across my cheeks, I pulled open the door.

"Yes?"

"I thought you might want to take a dip in the pool? If you didn't bring a suit there's a Walmart-"

But I had already cut him off with a fake yawn. "You know," I said with studied casualness, "I'm really feeling tired... Maybe not tonight."

He smirked, rejoining with "I bet you are after earlier..." but I was too distracted to even pretend to be offended.

This time, I shut and carefully locked the door. I showered quickly and slipped between the covers, naked as I preferred. The whole time, I felt nervous excitement building, so it was with great anticipation that I slid into bed.

Feeling shy, I started slowly, running my hands over my upper body. I breathed out the faintest grunt when I found my nipples stiff already, and experimented with the zing straight to my pussy that followed when I tugged them gently. Wriggling into the soft mattress, I stretched languorously, sighing at the shivery goodness that spread through me when I had all my muscles tensed.

Recognizing a sudden hot wetness between my thighs, I closed my eyes, sliding my left hand downward with a faint smile. I slipped my extended finger across the top of the slit, enjoying the wetness I spread. I moaned a little and then suddenly tensed. What if Stephen heard?! He would know! I stilled for a moment , but surprisingly felt my desire continue to quicken. "Oh, God," I murmured, letting my finger swirl in small circles.

It felt good this time – like it might actually work!

But a sudden thought crossed my mind – what if someone did hear? What if it wasn't Stephen, but instead a sweet old couple? Or a child?

I stilled again, feeling the faint nausea of shame. 'No!' I thought, and then whined out loud, "nooo..." I shoved a finger deep in myself, but it no longer felt good. Instead, I only felt discomfort. Deflated, I wiped my hand along my thigh, and shaking with pent-up desire and guilt, I fell into an uneasy sleep.

It didn't last long, however. Multiple times through the night, I woke from erotic dreams, and any further attempts to find relief from my sweaty aching desire met with more discomfort. By the time the sun finally rose, I was lying tangled in the one sheet left on my bed, feeling hopeless and bitter.

I was already up and dressed by the time Stephen came knocking on my door. Although his eyes were still puffy from sleep, he was disgustingly chipper. 

"Good morning!" he crowed, and I glared back, resisting a strong urge to hit him. "Uh-huh..." I said, hating his cheerful manner. His grin collapsed a little, and he suddenly looked thoughtful.

"You're grumpy! I thought... I take it my idea wasn't quite successful for you?"

"No!" I said, in a slightly raised voice, ignoring the crestfallen look on his face.

"Well, we'll get there... Actually..." He trailed off and grabbed my wrist.

"What? What?! Why are you grinning?!" I was nearly yelling again as he tugged me into the bathroom. I was going to kill him. Or kiss him – the smirk on those firm lips looked delicious to me in my present state. Ugh. I hated myself even more every time I had one of these awkward thoughts about my friend. FRIEND. I thought it to myself again as I leaned against the wall. Mystified, I crossed my arms and watched suspiciously as he turned on the shower and began making adjustments.

"Stephen, I showered last night?" I said uncertainly.

"You don't need a shower... But you definitely need something, Rach. Be creative!" and he quickly stepped out of the bathroom and shut the door.

What?! "Stephen!" I yelled, pushing on the door but finding it stuck. "Let me out!" Why was it stuck? Was he leaning on it?!

I glanced at the shower again, noting the setting it was on – it sent out three hard pulses every half second or so. I thought for a minute, confused. It hardly looked relaxing... My eyes widened at a sudden thought. What if... I suddenly looked at the door. Was he standing there keeping the door from opening? What was he expecting? Was he imagining me right now? Maybe... me in the shower with that rough stream focused exactly where I needed it?

I felt a flush, but it was more the effect of a hot wave of desire and the warm steam swirling around me than any embarrassment.

Hesitantly, I called out "Uh, maybe I will take a shower. To... to relax."

I stripped quickly, glancing in the mirror, and then on a wicked impulse spread myself to see the red flush of arousal across my inner flesh. After staring for a moment, I stepped in the tub and turned my considering gaze on the warm water spraying out of the showerhead. It wasn't removable, so I would have to angle myself under the water right for this to work. I angled the showerhead as upright as it would go, and then pressed my back against the wall. By stretching my leg out to the side like a yoga pose and thrusting my pelvis out, the water thudded onto me, flickering across my engorged clit at every pulse.

I felt a guttural moan tear from me at the sensation. This was just what I needed... but as soon as I began to lapse into a stupor, my position became impossible to hold. I groaned again – but this time in pure frustration. I reluctantly returned to a standing position, glowering at the stream of water. Now that I knew its potential, I was feeling especially tormented. I stretched out again, but with my muscles already tired I couldn't get the water to reach that crucial point.

Feeling hopeless and aching with frustration, I flopped down, sitting heavily in the tub. What I really felt like was throwing a full on temper tantrum, but I reasoned with myself. As an adult, what I ought to do was calm down and get over it. I sighed and reached for the shower/bath toggle. Maybe a quick warm soak would help to relax a little of my tension if I couldn't have anything else. I started to lean back as warm water rushed in around me. Normally, it would have been soothing, but at that moment all I could feel was the way that each small wave lapped between my legs. God, this was torture!

Suddenly, I jerked back upright, speculatively eyeing the thick stream of water gushing from the spout in front of me. Looking at the distance between it and the wall, I thought maybe – I reclined myself backward, looking anxiously at the water as I bent my knees, spread my legs, and scooted forward. I lay down all the way to push forward the last few inches, and as I hit the limit of my flexibility (and the end of the tub) I cursed. Damn! The water was pounding down delightfully hard – but it was slapping against the cheeks of my ass. It was stimulating, actually, but it only served to add even more to my desperate agony. The swollen mound between my legs THROBBED – I could even feel my pulse beating in one swollen labia.

"Fuck." I said it out loud, surprising myself. The language wasn't like me – but you know what, it felt good. I was pissed – at myself, at Stephen, at this damn bathtub! But I also felt wanton and sexy, and it felt good to give in to my wild side, even just by cursing. Feeling suddenly determined, I looked at the water again. This felt good, and I needed it, so I was going to make it happen!

Basically, I needed a way to get that water to me, since I couldn't get to the spout. I tried shaping it with my feet, but that only gave me a few small hard-to-direct streams. My pussy was aching at this point, and, feeling consumed with fire, I knew I had to cum, fast. I could feel light spasms working their way from my tight entrance to deep within the slick recesses of my pussy, but instead of bringing me the ecstatic relief of orgasm, they were pushing me painfully onto the brink without going over.

Clenching my teeth, I had an idea. Quickly, I sat up a little ways. Although my feet couldn't direct the water correctly, I knew my hands could. It was just a matter of flexibility – and to my sublime relief, I could direct the heavy flow of water to my pussy without so much as lifting my head. 

The water felt delightfully warm across my slippery labia, and it teased everywhere all at once, pounding and rubbing and massaging my thick outer lips, tingling across the flushed and swollen inner ones, and even pounding into the entrance of my aching pussy, giving me a feeling of fullness. I felt my breathing speed up, and everything faded away as my focus narrowed to the delicious sensation between my trembling legs. So, so close – but I needed more. I strained up into the water, hoping to tease my pulsing clit better, and then on an impulse moved one hand from the water stream.

My left hand kept the water pounding into my hungry pussy, while hesitantly my right hand dipped to the apex of my mound. I hovered there for a moment, and then my first and middle finger slowly lowered. I slid them in between my inner and outer labia, and paused for a moment, fingers cocooned in my own moist heat. Then, I pulled the vee of my fingers wider and upwards, and my stiff swollen clitoris sprang free of its hood. Immediately, the water was gushing down on it, tingling and tormenting, and I felt a delicious building start deep behind my belly button. My hips started to squirm, and although I felt an urge to prolong it I felt myself slipping past the point of no return. Knowing I couldn't stop now if I tried, I gave in with full abandon. My suppressed breathy moans slipped through my lips – first soft and high, nearly squeaks, but building, and as my orgasm at last ripped through me and my pussy grasped at what wasn't there, I gasped out a breathy "Ahh – ahhhh!"

Suddenly limp and exhausted, my sated body sank into the bath and I sighed happily. As my pulse slowed and euphoria faded, though, reality crept back in. Slowly, I became sensible of the fluorescent light, the roof, the water cooling around me, and the gold brown blur of the tiled walls through the clouded shower curtain. Then, something else crossed my mind. I sat up slowly, clasping my bent knees to me and feeling the adrenaline of embarrassment and panic. Oh God. Stephen knew. He had to know – again! 

At this point, I decided I didn't care. I felt great, mentally and physically, and he hadn't even been in the room this time. It was time, I though confidently, to own my actions. I tried to ignore the terror that coursed through me – what if he just found me funny? Was he embarrassed? Or even grossed out? As the tub drained and I toweled off, I worked on calming my breathing. As I buttoned my pants and slid on my long sleeved tee, I focused on being realistic. Maybe he didn't know. If he had left the room there was always a chance he just thought I had had a normal shower. As I pulled the brass knob of the door towards me, I trained myself into being entirely nonchalant, ignoring my inner panic. My eyes narrowed as I stepped out and saw Stephen awkwardly across the room pulling at the leaf of a potted houseplant, his back to me. 

I cleared my throat. He jumped (!) and then turned toward me, not meeting my eyes. "I feel much better!" I said, all chipper and chirpy. "Ah, good... um, ready to go then?" he mumbled a little. "Yep! You were right – a warm bath was really soothing and relaxing. I feel totally refreshed now," I replied. He walked across the room in front of me, holding his folded sweater a little awkwardly in front of himself, and as I got the direct side view, I realized that it was not quite hiding a bulge in his khaki shorts. Delight flashed within me – obviously, he wasn't horrified. In fact, it seemed like for once I had the power in our interactions, instead of being the naïve awkward one the whole time! I couldn't help but push my luck, buoyed by my recent success. I filed away my consideration of how sexy that bulge was (not to mention its size) and wiped the smirk off my face as best I could, and then , sounding as startled as possible said, "Stephen!!" He glanced at me in surprise and I looked significantly at his crotch. 

However, instead of the guilt or awkwardness I expected, he met my eyes fully and flashed that breathtaking grin at me. "Oh, this, Rachel?" He moved the sweater. "It's just a normal guy thing – mornings, you know. I didn't realize you were so interested in it! Next time I'll let you get a better view – might even leave the shorts off!" My eyes were unfortunately still glued to him as I felt the smile slip off my face in panic and my ego deflate again at his joking. Damn. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, as they say. I really, really ought to know better by now.



Rachel and Stephen Ch. 04



Hi again, everyone. Sincere apologies about taking so long to continue this. I've got 2 chapters to upload right now and I'm going to try to go ahead and finish the story within the next month or so.

Fair warning – if you couldn't figure it out from the title, this is part of a series and not the beginning. I highly recommend starting with chapter 1. This is also not a quick fuck – there is plot involved, even if not much.

Thanks for reading.

****

Back in the truck and on the road again, Stephen and I were both uncharacteristically quiet as we rolled along. I kept quiet because I didn't know what to say after the events of the last few days, and quite frankly I was terrified of what the conversation might lead to topic-wise. This game of sexual chicken had to end – I didn't have the confidence or comfort with the topic to ever make him back off without backing off myself. Especially considering my current state and all the tension that kept building, I was afraid that my hormones would force me in to making a move, humiliating myself and possibly ruining the friendship when Stephen was just joking. 

I looked over. I really didn't know why he was staying as silent as I was. Embarrassment as well? Probably not – although, I was almost certain that he had lied to me about his earlier erection. I was pretty sure it hadn't been present when he first came in to the room... which meant he had been listening to me in the tub. He really hadn't seemed embarrassed, though, I mused. Another thought struck me: maybe he was quiet on the subject because he was afraid I would interpret it as a sign of interest, when it was just a bodily reaction to an arousing situation. That definitely seemed more likely.

I reached to turn on the radio and narrowed my eyes when I noticed that this time Stephen had a faint smirk dancing around his lips as he gazed down the road. Ugh, this brought to mind a third option. It seemed as though he might be plotting more about his "proposition," which was yet another thing I really didn't want to think about.

I finally broke the silence. "Stephen?"

"Hmm?" He said, absentmindedly, faint twist still on his lips and eyes still on the road.

"Ah, about yesterday, and your... proposition..."

Before I could awkwardly continue, he snapped out of his reverie. "Oh, right, right, we never finished talking about it!"

Um... what? He grinned at me as he kept talking. "Rach, what I was actually proposing was a bet."

My competitive streak kicked in and I looked at him in challenge. "What kind of bet?"

"Well..." he paused. "Do you mind if we just speak really plainly? Think you can manage without dying of embarrassment?"

I bristled defensively at his tone. "Yes!"

"Okay then," Stephen said, "the bet would be about, well, you learning to masturbate." He looked over, and seeing that I was still quiet and listening, continued. "I think you need to start doing it, if only so you don't drive me crazy with your deprived bitchiness, heh."

I wasn't laughing.

He went on, "I think you definitely have the drive and ability, and being moderately good with women," he smirked, "I'm pretty sure I can get you to the point where you will be so desperate that you will get past all your reservations." He glanced at me, and seeing the worried frown that I felt crinkling my brow, hurried to say "Trust me, I don't mean involving us in anything sexual. I'm not trying to seduce you, or anything."

I wasn't giving any consideration to actually doing this, but the competitive side of me is strong (there's a reason I work in the business world) and I couldn't help weighing the odds and seeing them in my favor. My reservations were strong – stronger than he probably realized, and I had a stubborn streak to boot.

"What would the stakes be?" I cleared my throat, hoping my voice didn't sound as shaky as it felt. "And what would the specifics be in terms of what qualified as losing?"

"Well, the end goal I guess would be you getting off entirely by yourself, with no outside help of any kind." That damn smile was still on his face. "So, to put it in exact terms, uhm... You and your fingers, uhm, all the way to orgasm."

I was frozen in shock from hearing him say it so plainly, and jumped like a scared deer when he suddenly reached over and cranked the air conditioner on.

"Hot in here," he said, frowning. "Anyway, stakes would be if I'm successful and you actually end up doing it, the entire trip that we're on now will be my treat. All your meals in Vegas will be on me, and I'll even finance your gambling. In fact, I'll even buy you a new outfit to wear there; I saw how upset you were with all your old clothes. But, if you can actually resist (which is highly unlikely, haha) then you are going to have to treat me to a really nice dinner, place of my choosing."

"Uhm, Stephen... Isn't that kind of the opposite of how bets work? Shouldn't I be paying if you win, instead of the other way around?"

"Well, yeah," he replied, "But this way you have some extra motivation to do what I really want. It will basically be a win win situation – you'll be happier, I'll be happier because you won't be all crazy tense all the time, you'll get a free vacation... There's really nothing to hold you back except some silly inhibitions that you need to get past."

"Ah..." I had no clue what to say, but I was getting more and more irritated by his overconfidence. "What makes you so sure it will be easy for you to win?!"

Stephen just looked at me and grinned that adorable, infuriating smile. "Just call it a gut feeling."

I snapped. "All right, bet accepted, Mr. God-Among-Women! I will be buying you dinner this weekend, and then we will never be talking about this again!"

Stephen just laughed. "Okay, Rachel, bet's on then."

I sat there staring out the window at the alpine forest racing by, feeling quite smug over what I felt was a guaranteed victory. As long as he only won with me using my fingers – well, I could still use the lovely bathtub technique from this morning, no matter how desperate I was. Mmm. I shifted in the seat, thinking about it. It had really been fantastic – and I still felt great about myself. No guilt, just release. I was definitely going to take another bath at the hotel tonight.

The next few hours flew by much more comfortably than the rest of the trip had so far. We had left around 10, and by mid-afternoon the golden light was slanting across scrubby foothills, with only a few sparse evergreens scattered among them. After waking up from a relaxing nap, I felt much better, and Stephen and I had been talking like always, mostly about work and remembered college escapades. Even as our conversation dwindled, the scenery outside held my attention, so different from the thick Oregon forest I was used to. 

As we finally crossed over the border into Nevada, my stomach was growling and I was getting cranky. I had lost all patience by the time Stephen rolled into a midsize town at a little over the 35 mph speed limit, looking all over but showing no signs of stopping.

"Stephen!" I snapped, sounding meaner than I meant. "I'm hungry! Do we have to starve??"

"Oh, right!" he said, unflappably cheerful. "Actually, stopping here would be great." He pulled into a sub shop, saying cryptically "I have to run a couple errands, but can you order me a sandwich and a big soda, please?"

With that, he jumped out of the trunk and strode off across the parking lot and around the corner. I sat for a minute, bemused, but was really too hungry to worry about what he was up to for too long.

By the time he finally strolled around the corner again, two blank white plastic bags in his hands, I was sitting in the truck, my sandwich already gone. "God, it's about time," I groused, but really I was feeling much more cheerful after getting some food.

"You ready to go?" he asked, starting the truck without waiting for confirmation. "I'll eat and drive so we can make better time."

"What exactly were you up to?" I asked suspiciously as he backed up and pulled out of the parking lot, looking innocent. "I was bored out of my mind waiting."

"Ahh, well, I thought you might be bored! All this driving, you know." He reached behind him into one of the mysterious plastic bags, and pulled out a garishly pink book and tossed it into my lap. "I got some reading material for you!"

I stared distastefully down at the book. "It's in His Kiss," proclaimed the cover in golden swirls. Behind the letters a man pulled the shoulder of a woman's old-style gown down and devoured her ear as her unrealistically massive breasts strained to pop out of the dress and her mouth opened in a cheesy gasp. Oh no. Absolutely not. I might be bored and still mildly horny, but I had some self respect. I was not reading trash like this.

Ten minutes down the road, I reached over and clicked on the radio, hoping that I could find some sort of talk show or something. I glared in protest when Stephen clicked it right back off. "What! I'm bored!"

"I know, Rach. That's why I got you something to read. If you're bored, open the book."

I clamped my lips together, frowning. It wasn't going to happen.

Stephen looked over and laughed at my mulish expression. "If it helps, one of the exes really liked that author. I don't quite remember which one... But you know I don't sleep with stupid women."

Nope. I sat silently a few minutes longer. "So, have you talked to – "

I growled when he cut me off. "Nope, no conversation," he smirked. "If you're bored, you have a book."

Fine. I was going to look out the window then. 

A long 3 minutes later, I decided that this was a stupid desert. There were no cactuses, no red rock mesas, nothing but this blasted scrub brush everywhere and scatterings of cows. 

Two minutes after that, I sighed and opened the book. I knew what Stephen's plan was – but I also knew that something this cheesy was not going to affect me.

Surprisingly, I was enthralled by the Viscount and his escapades with Jane, his little sister's best friend. And so far, Stephen's plan had backfired – they hadn't even kissed, although Jane had been hopelessly in love with him her whole life. I sighed wistfully along with her as she watched the rake Viscount twirl a beautiful society miss around on the dance floor... and shrieked as icy cold Coke gushed across my chest and onto my lap.

"STEPHEN! WHAT THE HELL! OHMYGOD IT'S COLD! COLDCOLDCOLD!"

"Ooh, Rachel, that's a bummer..." he said, overly sympathetic sounding.

I tried to glare, but I was too busy dancing around in my seat trying to keep the icy icy liquid out of my unmentionable regions.

He pulled off the highway onto a small dirt pullout. "Gosh, that looks cold... must be uncomfortable. You might want to change clothes."

"Stephen! Seriously, what the hell are you up to?? Now I have to get all the way in the back to my suitcase, which is under everything, and I'm not even sure I brought enough clothes!"

I opened the door, but still sat in my seat, feeling overwhelmingly infuriated.

I didn't even pay attention when he reached into the back again and rustled around. It dawned on me finally when he tossed a bundle of fabric into my lap – this was all part of his plan to win the bet. That infuriating man. Anger fueled my stubborn commitment to this farce of a bet even more. Fine. I could meet any damn challenge he pleased. Uneasily, I looked at what he had handed me – it looked to be plain blue cotton, but I could see some black lace peeking out of the middle. I was uneasy about what exactly I might be getting into, but at the same time I was cold and sticky – and I had a bet to win. I sighed, defeated. "Okay, fine. Where am I supposed to change? There's nowhere here."

He grinned. "Well, you'll have to work something out – you aren't sitting in my truck all covered in soda! In fact, I'm not letting you back in or driving anywhere until you're changed!"

I panicked, looking around. There was absolutely no cover around us – just miles of highway and the truck, and I had seen plenty of traffic along the road today. I glared at Stephen, not liking to feel trapped this way.

"Rach," he said in a slightly softer voice, "I won't look. I promise."

All right, it was time to be a big girl. I trusted Stephen, and if he said he wasn't going to look then he wasn't. And admittedly, there were no cars within sight distance along the highway. I hopped down out of the truck and closed the door, sitting the bundle of clothes on the edge of the bed. I separated the items out one by one – a blue skirt, black shirt, and then, the embarrassing part – a matched lingerie set in black lace. My face burned, knowing that Stephen had picked this out himself, and that to do so he must have been imagining my body pretty clearly. But really, there was no going back now, and in all honestly it wasn't worse than something I'd have picked myself. I stripped down quickly, unwisely taking my top and bra off and then going for my pants without thinking to cover up at all. I had trouble with my jeans, sticky with soda and clinging to my thighs, and I was wriggling to get them off when I heard the sound of a car cresting over a distant hill. 

Shit. I wriggled faster. Pants off, pants off, okay, pants off. My panties followed urgently, landing on the ground on top of my jeans, and I snatched the bra off the truck. It fit exactly, which I found irritating, but what I really noticed was how much of a pushup effect that it had. There had to be an inch of foam in the bottom of each lacy cup, and once it was on I felt like I had cleavage up to my ears. Rolling my eyes, but secretly liking the effect, I glanced at the road again. Shit, shit, shit. The car was closer – close enough that I could see the vague shape of human figures behind the windshield. I grabbed the panties, barely looking at them, and yanked them over my legs and up. They weren't a thong, but they were definitely cut higher on the cheeks than I usually wore, and the lace was transparent. Oh well. I didn't have time to be modest. The car was rushing towards us, and I could definitely see what looked to be two men inside. I grabbed the shirt, pulled it on frantically, jumped into the skirt, and then yanked open the door and leaped into the truck. Right then the car passed by – at about ten miles per hour, the two teenage guys inside rubbernecking and wide-eyed the whole way by. 

Dammit. I blushed, and looked down at myself, frozen in a moment of dismay. The skirt was fine – flowy blue and ankle length, but the tight black tee was a deep vee neck. All that new cleavage was pouring out. Surprising even myself, I busted up laughing. This was too ridiculous – I looked like some kind of sex goddess, and I had definitely just given those guys a free strip show.

Stephen was guffawing next to me too. "Ohmygod, Rachel, hahaha, ohmygod, did those guys just see all of you?"

I nodded, almost crying from laughing so hard. "Pretty sure... I just made... their day!" I gasped out.

We finally collapsed into a companionable silence, flopping against our seats, and after one last giggle worked its way out I looked over at Stephen, meeting his thoughtful gaze already on me.

"What's this all about, anyway?" I asked, grinning. "That wasn't sexy or anything – that was insane!"

He sat up and wiped his eyes. "Okay, I'll admit that last bit wasn't necessarily part of the plan... I was just getting you into something nicer! Making you feel sexy is step one of the plan."

I started to protest that I wasn't exactly vulnerable to seeing myself in low cut shirt, but he looked at me and warmly said "I've got to say, I have great taste in clothes, too... or maybe great taste in friends. You look gorgeous."

Something lit up inside me at his words, and I smiled back at him happily. "Come on, you cheesy man. I'm immune to flattery. Let's try to make the hotel before midnight, okay?"

With that, he started up the truck, and I opened my book back up. Maybe he was right about feeling sexy. I considered my undergarments and smiled, deciding that if Jane had these, maybe she wouldn't have so much trouble getting her hands on that heartbreaker the Viscount. Even though the panties seemed to have bunched up, giving me an awkward camel toe, I still felt like hot stuff.

100 pages later, I was absolutely entranced. Jane had just slipped into the wrong room in her nightgown, trying to find her way to bed as a guest in an unfamiliar house, and there stood the Viscount, shirtless. She was breathless and frozen, waiting for his reaction, and so was I. "Jane," he said in a rough voice. "You shouldn't be here." Her breath caught in her throat (and so did mine) as he strode quickly towards her. He grabbed her chin firmly, and tilted her face towards his, dragging her gaze off his chiseled chest. My eyes widened in alarm and excitement. Was he angry - or vulnerable? Was he finally going to kiss her?? "You need to leave," he rasped. Jane opened her mouth to explain, but his eyes fell to her lips, and his body heat radiated against her, and she felt herself swaying into him and slipping her lips between his. I breathed out heavily. This is what we had been waiting for, Jane and I... He hadn't stopped her, he must love her! Jane was utterly lost. The Viscount was kissing her urgently, moist hot lips parting hers as his free hand threaded through her loose curls, tugging her to him. Unschooled as she was, she kissed him back enthusiastically, moaning as his tongue swirled against hers. I breathed heavier and bit my lip, feeling the twinges of arousal within me – and froze at an unfamiliar sensation. Something twinged between my legs – almost like a faint vibration. I wiggled backwards in the seat, trying to pull myself off my bunched up panties. I clearly needed to calm down. My eyes focused back in on the page. "Harry," murmured Jane between hot urgent kisses, "Harry..." saying his name over and over again to assure herself that it was actually him, there, kissing her. He pulled back for a moment, eyes dark with arousal, and – I could not get the feeling between my legs to go away. It was wreaking havoc on my composure, tickling away against my slit. My forehead furrowed as I finally looked up and thought about it. I glanced over at Stephen, who seemed to just be driving along, unaware of anything I was doing. He had one hand on the wheel, and the other hanging down at his side, nodding his head along to the faint sound of the radio.

"Uhm, Stephen?" I said thickly, trying to sound composed.

He glanced over, looking decidedly bored. "Yeah?"

Hmm. "How much longer till we get to the hotel?" I jerked as the vibration suddenly leaped into a full-fledged thrumming and then faded away just as suddenly.

Stephen looked back over at me again, holding my eyes for a minute. I was definitely feeling suspicious as he casually said "Say that again?"

The vibration reappeared as faintly as it had begun. I gritted my teeth and said carefully "How much longer till the hotel?"

"Oh, probably about an hour – just long enough for you to finish your book. I don't mind if you turn on the overhead light, since it's getting dark." Midsentence, whatever it was pulsed hard directly on my clit, and I gasped as my muscles clenched. "Uh, are you okay?" he continued.

Dammit. I knew that mischief crinkling around the corners of his eyes and lips. Carefully looking again, I decided the one-handed driving was because there had to be something in his left hand... Probably a remote, I thought, cringing to realize that the second pulse running through me was being caused by him. 

Holy shit. This was a whole new level of – of whatever we were doing. I nearly shuddered in arousal with the thought that the faint pulsing against my slit was coming from Stephen. It may not have been his hand stimulating me, but – sweet Jesus – it was still technically him. I realized that I must have had a bit of an exhibitionist streak, since I was nearly cumming with just the thought that he was watching. My skin prickled with panic and anxiety as I dragged my mind away from that line of thinking. I knew I couldn't deal with cumming in front of him again – I just couldn't. On top of that, Stephen didn't lie to me – and he had promised that he wouldn't try to seduce me.Although this felt intimate, a quick look at his face showed me a smug expression, but no signs of seduction. Clearly, this was about the bet to Stephen, and nothing else. And you know what? There was no way I was going to let him think he was winning. Challenge accepted. I was absolutely not going to admit this was getting to me. I would focus on my book and keep my composure for the next hour, and then as soon as we got to the hotel dive into the bath for some well-earned relief, with Stephen none the wiser.




Rachel and Stephen Ch. 04



"I think I will turn on the light," I said calmly and oh so carefully. Another hard vibration throbbed against me momentarily, but I was ready, and kept my face smooth and controlled. I reached up and clicked the button on the light, and then, feeling sly, leaned back and put my legs up on the dash. This kept what I had decided had to be the vibrating panties from making as direct of contact and made me look relaxed to boot.

I stopped feeling so smug when another hard pulse started against me, this one going on much longer than the others had. I clenched every muscle in my body and glared pointedly at the book. – and stared... and... and stared... AND STARED INTO HER EYES. Phew, okay, I could do this. The vibration tapered off again, and I glanced at Stephen out of the corner of my eyes, just in time to see him jerk his head back toward the road, looking faintly irritated. Hah. Okay, back to reading. "Jane," he said shakily, "do you know what you're doing?" She nodded wordlessly, knowing that she would give up anything to him at this moment. He grabbed her hand, shoving it onto his hot arousal through his trousers. "This, Jane, are you prepared for what this is, what this will mean? Because this is your last chance to run."

Well, hell. This was not helping at all. I flipped ahead a couple pages ...cried out softly as he tore through her maidenhead, but the pleasure overrode the pain until she was gasping... HELL.

I decided to pretend to read instead of actually reading. I was bored again, but at least the radio was on, and at least I wasn't getting any more turned on. I was afraid if I got much wetter I was going to soak through onto the seat.

Then the vibrations kicked back on and I decided I didn't care if I soaked through, only cared about not moaning in front of Stephen. I decided to try to talk to him, in hopes of distracting him from what he was doing and distracting myself from that pulsing feeling.

"Stephen," I stuttered out, "which hotel are we staying in tonight?"

"Not sure yet," he said. He grinned over at me, but mercifully turned the vibe off for the moment.

"What?!" I said, genuinely irritated. "Stephen, it's 8 pm! You didn't make a reservation or anything?"

"No..." he said, "and I didn't make one for last night either. That was just to get you out the door. Rach, these are tiny towns, you don't need to worry that it will be full." And then that wicked grin was on his face again, and he cut any more protests I might have made off as the vibe suddenly leapt to life against my swollen lower lips again.

The next thirty minutes were utter torment. Every time I decided that Stephen had finally gotten bored with torturing me, the little buzzing sensation would reappear just long enough to keep me on the edge. I fidgeted at first, glancing out the window as our headlights flashed along through the dusk, and finally just clung to the handle anchored to the wall of the cab, clenching my muscles desperately and willing myself not to make noise. I was drunk on arousal and couldn't think of anything but my determination to win, so instead of admitting that this wager had finally gone too far, I counted sagebrush and gritted my teeth – anything to pretend that there was no vibration, no man at the other end of the remote (not to mention a man that I wasn't allowed to be attracted to), nothing but desert. We finally pulled in to the next small town and parked in the surprisingly full lot of the Best Western, which seemed to be the only hotel in town. It wasn't exactly the Ritz, but it looked like salvation to me.

I watched Stephen warily as he turned the key back in the ignition and flicked off the headlights as the engine went still. As he looked over to me, I marveled at the beautiful planes of his face, enhanced by the single streetlight that shone through the window. His lips were soft and full, and his eyes dark and mysterious, and I wondered what kissing him would feel like. I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn't know what. I wanted to lean over and kiss him and taste his tongue against mine and beg him to lift me up on to him right here in the truck and fill me and finally finish what had started with the damn underwear.

In fact, I was desperate enough that I was considering going and asking the hobo that I could see going through the dumpsters at the edge of the parking lot to do the same, but I ruled this out as not thinking with my brain.

Anyway, Stephen was gorgeous, and right here. But I couldn't make myself say the words, couldn't make myself move even. Finally, he broke the silence, tilting his head a little at me like he was trying to figure out what I was thinking. "So, we should probably get in to our rooms. Seems like maybe you've been a bit impatient to get here." He flashed a few straight teeth at me in a quick laughing smile, and then opened the door and hopped out. Being a gentleman, he carried both the suitcases and I trailed behind him feeling lost as we walked into the pastel lobby. I stood there next to the luggage as he murmured with the receptionist and tried to center my spinning head. All I wanted was to be taken care of, suddenly, feeling lost and needy and wanting Stephen, more than anything, Stephen to pick me up and carry me to bed and help me get over this achy desperate need and back to my normal grounded self. In that moment, it didn't matter that he was my friend or that I wasn't attracted to him. I just needed sanity, and I knew that was only going to come via orgasm.

I wandered over next to him, wondering what was taking so long, just in time to see the receptionist shake her head and say "I'm sorry, but with the off-road race this weekend, we've been booked up for quite a while." Stephen leaned in towards her, reading off her nametag, "Rita, please? My friend and I have been on the road all day, and we have nowhere else to stay. Isn't there anything you can do?" He flashed his megawatt smile at her, and I felt like rolling my eyes as I watched her melt.

She typed into her computer a little more and finally sighed. "Okay, look, I can give you a suite, but you'll have to pay suite price, and it was closed for cleaning so you'll need to wait while I get someone up there."

"Not a problem, Rita. You're a love." Stephen smiled and handed her his credit card.

"Okay, dear, it'll be about an hour," she said, reaching for the phone on her desk.

We walked back outside, and Stephen grinned sheepishly at me. "Okay, Rach, maybe next time I will take reservations a little more seriously... What do you want to do to kill time?"

I considered a few different options in my head. Gosh, let's see. We could go have sex like bunnies in the truck, or go ravish each other on a blanket behind those bushes over there... or we could go to the cheerful looking bar and grille that was lit up across the street.

Bar it was. "How about a couple drinks and a snack across the street? I could use something to help me unwind," I said quietly.

Stephen pulled out a stool for me once we were inside, and we settled in. As I waited for my margarita and cheesy fries, he nursed the beer that was already in his hand and stared off into the distance.

"Stephen? Hello?" I said, waving my hand in front of his eyes.

"Oh! Sorry," he said ruefully, shaking his head, "I'm just a little tired. Or distracted, or something."

Um, okay. Welcome to the club. "So did she say suite?" I asked.

"Uh, yeah."

"Two bedroom?"

My heart sped up a little as he shook his head no, but I knew this was actually a bad thing. With my head stabilized somewhat, I wasn't even sure I actually wanted to take our friendship that direction if he was interested, and I was pretty sure he wasn't. On top of that, this meant there was no chance that I was dealing with this horniness problem on my own tonight without him knowing.

Ugh, oh well. I grabbed a fry from the dish as the waiter set it in front of me and thoroughly burned my mouth. This night was not improving.

*****

Having talked about absolutely nothing of consequence, we finally headed back to the hotel, but I was just relieved that the bet hadn't come up. Stephen had seemed a little subdued, but finally things were feeling normal again. As normal as I could be when sexually frustrated, anyway. I slipped into the door of our suite ahead of Stephen as he pulled the keycard out, and stilled as I flicked on the lights. It was all one giant room – a fridge and stovetop built into a small counter on my right, a dining table and two chairs in the back corner, a giant bed in the center of the room, and a door that probably led to the bathroom on my left. I looked again – definitely nothing but the one bed. 

"No couch or anything... Weird suite." I muttered to Stephen.

He just laughed at me. "Rach, stop whining, at least we got a room. I don't mind sleeping on the floor."

Rebelliously, I decided to be grumpy anyways, stalking over to throw open the bathroom door. I sighed inwardly when I saw the shower stall – no tub here. This night really could not get any worse.

We took turns changing into pajamas in the bathroom, and while he was in there I flopped on the bed in my mid-thigh length sleep tee, grabbing the remote and starting to flip through the channels. I barely managed to will my eyes onto the screen as he walked out in boxers and nothing else. He lay down on the bed next to me, and I swear I could feel the heat radiating off of his bare toned chest.

I sighed loudly, and sat up, stacking two pillows behind me against the headboard. "Nothing on... Did you see anything you liked?" I asked, still feeling sullen.

"Not especially," he said. "That old western will be fine though." I clicked back to it, and the last thing I remember is the sight of a cowboy riding across the desert on his trusty horse before my eyelids slowly fluttered shut.

The next thing I knew, I was shifting under a blanket, squeezing my eyes shut as I tried to puzzle out what was happening. My pillow was really warm under my cheek, and the bed felt unfamiliar. But what was really jarring was the sound of a woman's loud moans that had woken me up. Groggily, I lifted my head a little ways and then suddenly lurched up fully. My "pillow" was actually Stephen's bare abdomen, and the lump wrapped under my back was his arm. I must have flopped over onto him when I fell asleep, I realized as I scrambled back over to my side of the bed. 

My eyes finally cleared enough to look at the TV and find the source of the noise – porn, which the movie must have phased into once it hit late night. I watched for a minute, unable to look away, as a slender brown-haired girl with enormous boobs lowered herself up and down on the largest penis I'd ever seen, screaming and moaning the whole time. My mouth felt dry as the camera zoomed in closer, revealing a pulsing vein throbbing on one side of the well-hung man's equipment, and the sheen of moisture that the girl's shaven pussy was lubricating everything with.

Stephen sighed a little in his sleep and turned his head toward me, and I lunged at the remote and stabbed the power button. I sat frozen, but he didn't seem to move any more. The adrenaline pounding through my system finally faded after a few minutes, and I sank down in the dark bed, relaxing a bit as I stretched out.

The room seemed incredibly quiet and dark now, and I would have felt lonely except for the faint sound of Stephen's slow even breathing. All I had to focus on was the damp heat radiating between my legs as I pictured the scene on the TV again. The more I thought about it, the more I heated up. I could feel my nipples straining against the cotton of my shirt, and it felt like I was on fire, more turned on than I'd ever been. Feeling an urgent need to cum, I suddenly remembered that the panties I still had on were the ones with the vibrating apparatus. 

I felt incredibly furtive and guilty as I slipped out of bed and over to the faint pile of dirty clothes I could see against the smooth hardwood floor, but the idea was too appealing to ignore. Urgently, I felt my way through the clothes until I reached the pocket of Stephen's jeans. I wanted to cheer in excitement when I finally fished out a small rectangular remote with a simple circular dial on the face.

I slowly rotated it on with a click, and a faint moan slipped out almost immediately at the soft pulsing against my clit. It faded off quickly, though, to the faintest buzzing, and then to nothing. I frowned, turning it on and back off, but this elicited nothing more than a momentary murmur that I barely felt. Damn, damn, damn. The battery must be dead. So much for my plans of relief, I thought, thoroughly disappointed. 

Back under the covers again, I was desperately trying to sleep to the point of actually counting sheep. Nothing was helping, though. My brain was stuck on erotic thoughts – the way it had felt to cum on that road with the naughty feeling of Stephen watching, the way I wanted something to stretch me out like that thick penis in the porno, and the forbidden thoughts of slipping my fingers down to my aching core to bring release. I fluffed my pillow and turned over restlessly, but nothing was helping. It actually felt like my juices were starting to run down my ass. Curiously, I slipped a hand down, holding my breath as I slowly moved it towards the junction of my thighs. 

I wasn't really going to masturbate, I reasoned, just satisfy my curiosity about the moisture accumulating down there. I slowly slid my index finger across my inflamed lips, marveling at how incredibly slippery and hot the pool of moisture at my center was. Without thinking, I started to spread the juices around my aching pussy. My finger dipped down into my opening, and then pulled slipperily along around all the outer folds again and again, feeling almost hypnotic. On my third round, I barely crossed against the upper edge of my clit, and I moaned a little as my hips jerked up an inch or so.

At the noise, Stephen rolled onto his side toward me and murmured something in his sleep. I froze everything, even holding my breath. He was close enough that I could feel his warm breath brushing across my left shoulder, and I thought that moving at all might be enough to wake him all the way.

The seconds ticked by slowly. He didn't move anymore and the need I was feeling was only getting stronger, leaving me quivering like a pile of Jello and wetter and wetter at each faint warm tickling across my arm as he breathed out next to me.

I finally slipped off the bed as carefully as I could, tiptoeing across the floor. I stopped just inside the doorway of the bathroom, sinking down to sit on the startlingly cold floor. As my finger slipped down to the forbidden wetness again, I watched Stephen, his face illuminated faintly by a bar of light that had slipped through the blinds. I told myself it was to make sure he was asleep, but the longer I stared, the faster my finger moved.

Experimentally, I slipped an index finger inside myself, feeling the muscles tighten up momentarily and enjoying the liquid heat. I ran the finger up and around my clit, but even that felt too direct. I settled on rubbing the flat of my hand in a circular motion against my mound, stimulating everything gently, letting all those wet swollen parts rub against each other. I was breathing hard after a minute of this, but I needed more. I extended my middle and ring finger and sank them into the hungry mouth of my pussy, letting them push in exquisitely slowly and sink into a faint curl, putting pressure on my inner wall. Oh, God. Molten heat flashed through me, and my eyes closed as I resumed my circular massage. I was moaning faintly, but couldn't control it, jerking a little as I felt myself sinking closer and closer to release, as each circle rubbed across my swollen bud and jerked my fingers up in my sensitive canal.

A soft noise shot through the room to my ears, and my eyes opened. Stephen stood by the end of the bed, eyes trained directly on me. I couldn't seem to stop my hand, even with so much adrenaline and panic rushing through my chest that I thought I might pass out. Our eyes holding each others, my palm rubbed another slow circle, and the faintest noise of pleasure squeaked past my lips.

"Rachel..." His voice gusted toward me, barely a whisper.

"I just... oh, Oh, I just needed to, oh..." I fought to get the words out intelligibly, but lost any attempt to when my eyes fell on the way his boxers tented out, pointing at me like an accusing finger. "Stephenn," I moaned, rubbing faster.

My eyes fluttered again and I thought I might cum - and then he was there, pulling me up and kicking his boxers to the side and trailing hot moist kisses along my neck and ear as he gasped "Rach, baby, let me help, let me help you..." and I couldn't say yes, couldn't do anything but moan and kiss him with all the pent up passion rushing through me. But it was enough, and he backed me against the wall, lips never leaving mine, tongues slipping and dancing against each other. His strong capable hands were slipping under my thighs, pulling them up, and as I felt my arms go around him I realized my right hand was spreading a streak of my wetness across his shoulder blade, but then the very tip of him brushed my most sensitive area, burning me as he lined his cock up to plunge into me, and that was all I could think about.

At his first stroke, I felt the tingling start in my toes, and as he ground into me as I was fullest, I felt myself start to cry out. I realized that this was everything I needed, he was why I had been insatiable, and I gasped his name again and again as my legs locked around him, pulling him into me even deeper. And then all thought was gone, and I was falling, spiraling off. As I finally exploded, clenching tight around him over and over, longer than I could ever remember happening, I felt him gush hotly into me.

I collapsed limply, head nestling into the hollow where his neck met his shoulder, and barely hung on as he carried me over to the bed. I mewed a little in protest when he pulled me off, half-soft cock slipping wetly out of me, but he laid me sweetly in the bed and slipped in next to me, arm thrown across my abdomen as he brushed a kiss across my shoulder and I drifted off into satisfied sleep.



Rachel and Stephen Ch. 05



As evidenced by the title, this is part of a series. I highly recommend starting at the beginning. 




I slowly drifted awake the next morning, sensing the golden light of daytime through my eyelids but too sleepy and cozy to open them. I felt inexplicably overjoyed, and I tried to catch the remnants of what I thought had been an amazing dream, although I had no clue what it was about. 
Stephen crossed my mind, making me smile sleepily, and I decided the dream must have been about him. My legs shifted a little, and I felt an odd soreness between them. 

It all came rushing back then, and I grinned happily, wriggling into the mattress. I knew it had really happened, and I didn't have a single regret. In fact, I mused cheerfully, I wouldn't mind trying the whole thing again right now, but I didn't feel the warmth of another body in the bed.

I finally forced my eyes open in order to find Stephen. The groggy haze in them cleared slowly, and confirmed what I'd thought – he definitely wasn't in the room. Disappointed, I reached for the clock on the small bedside table, trying to drag it close enough for the red blurs to resolve into numbers. 9:38. Hmm, I had slept in pretty late for me. As I placed it back, my arm brushed across a notepad, and I picked it up to read the note written there. I blinked at it a couple times, and as the last of the blurriness cleared from my eyes, it turned into Stephen's familiar all-caps scrawl, followed by a simple sad face.

RACH –

I CAN'T TELL YOU HOW SORRY I AM ABOUT LAST NIGHT. I NEVER MEANT TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THE SITUATION I'D CREATED. PLEASE FORGIVE ME?

THIS WON'T AFFECT OUR BET AT ALL, AND I'M HOPING IT WON'T CHANGE OUR FRIENDSHIP EITHER.

I'LL BE DOWN IN THE BREAKFAST ROOM WHEN YOU WAKE UP.

-- S.

I sat the note back down slowly, feeling crushed and confused. This definitely wasn't the happily ever after I'd been hoping for – but what had I been basing that off of really? One pleasurable encounter when both of us had been desperate and in a situation filled with sexual tension? We had figured out long ago that we weren't compatible, and I decided he was taking this the right way. I even managed to find a small optimistic streak of competitiveness within me to be glad that this had kept me from losing the stupid bet.

Remembering that the free breakfast ended at 10, I jumped out of bed. After a few cautious steps on my shaky legs, I was good to go, and I jumped into some jeans and a racer back tank, throwing my hair up in a messy ponytail. I realized ruefully that I had no clue where the underwear from yesterday had gone, but I had plenty of extra pairs of cotton ones in my suitcase and I was pretty sure I never wanted to see the others again anyway. After running the brush quickly over my teeth, I grabbed the room key and was out the door and into the elevator.

At the door of the breakfast room I paused, taking a wavering breath to calm myself, and then stepped in.

Stephen was the only one in there. He sat at a central table with two chairs, eyes trained on the TV which was playing some news show. I swallowed and said "Hey," as casually as I could manage. I realized that half my feeling of sickness was actually extreme hunger and zeroed in on the waffle maker as he echoed my greeting.

Three minutes later, I sat down across from him with my steaming waffle, a banana, and a cup of apple juice. After a few bites, I finally looked up and carefully met his eyes, noting that he looked exhausted. "So," I said determinedly, "I think we need to talk about last night. I don't want to lose this... us... and we need to make sure there's no hidden awkwardness." He nodded silently, and I paused, unsure what to say next.

Looking away again, he finally spoke. "Rach, I'm sorry. I guess we should have realized, I especially should have realized, that I wasn't going to be able to resist that situation. I'm just a guy... and any girl, not just you, doing that is basically irresistible. And I had intentionally teased you to a state where you couldn't say no to me."

I jumped in, startled. "Stephen, what? I wasn't a victim in this... I... well, I wanted it," I said, swallowing uncomfortably. "and, uh, it felt good."

He finally met my eyes, looking hopeful. "You aren't upset?" When I shook my head, smiling a little, he grinned in relief. "Oh, good. Can we just call it a normal convenient encounter between two horny people?"

I nodded a little half-heartedly, but he sprang out of his chair and was around to me, hugging me, and I couldn't resist laughing in happiness. I punched him when he added "Anyway, it was definitely a positive outside of the obvious reasons, because it proved to me just how close I am to winning that bet," but I was still smiling. I wasn't sure if I could write this off the way he was, but it was worth it to try if just to keep him happy and grinning like always.

Back on the road, I smiled happily and leaned back in the truck seat. We were only about 3 hours out of Las Vegas, and even better, Stephen had actually somehow been persuaded to let me drive his truck. We had just stopped for lunch (at McDonald's, unfortunately) but nonetheless, my stomach was full and I was happy. Best of all, I didn't have to deal with any desperate overwhelming desire. Admittedly, the thoughts of last night, especially how delicious Stephen had looked naked (even in the bad lighting,) that flashed through my head every few minutes were arousing. But it was a gentle golden thrum in my abdomen, not aching need. 

The driving was relaxing. I stared down the long highway, noting a few dust storms like mini-tornadoes in the distance, all along listening to the calming sounds of Stephen's deep breathing as he took a nap in the passenger seat. 

As the edge of the metropolitan area finally came into sight, I pulled off on an exit that looked like it went nowhere and parked in a dirt area. I leaned over to Stephen in his partially reclined seat, and found that my hand was reaching to brush his cheek. Instead, I poked his shoulder, and smiled as his adorably soft looking brown eyes popped open and blinked a few times, confused. He focused in on me, and smiled a big happy grin into my eyes. "Rachel," he murmured, sounding happy.

"Wake up, you!" I said cheerfully, trying to ignore how much I wanted to snuggle into him. "You said you wanted to drive when we got to city traffic."

"Oh, right, right," he said groggily, sitting up. I quickly sat back into my own seat, not trusting myself if his lips got too close to mine.

After switching, we quickly passed through the outer subdivision area and into what everyone pictures when they think of Las Vegas. Stephen was focusing on the unfamiliar freeway, but I was free to look out the window at the cityscape flying by. I had been here before, but it had been awhile. I tried to anticipate what the city was going to look like once nighttime fell and everything lit up. 

By the time we were checked into the hotel and had our luggage in our rooms, it was only about 5 in the evening. I flopped onto the bed, bored, flipping through TV channels as I waited for 6, when Stephen said he would come by so we could discuss our plans for tonight. I was walking into the bathroom around 5:30 when I heard a key card trigger the door lock, and I knew it had to be Stephen. Even though it was before he said he'd be there, he was the one who had the other card to my room. "Bout to use the bathroom, give me a minute!" I called as I closed the door. I heard him call back "Kay!" followed by some strange clunking sounds, but I decided to ignore them as I did my business. 

Still patting my hands dry, I opened the door again to see Stephen sitting on the bed. He had a small box with a bow on it sitting next to him, and weirdly enough, the closet was open behind him with the ironing board that had been in it leaning against the wall.

"Uhm, what are you doing?" I asked curiously. I eyed the box next to him, wondering what was going on.

"I got you a present," he said, smiling as he handed me the box. I sat down next to him and sat it in my lap, feeling apprehensive. This was out of the norm for him – and on top of that, his eyes were sparkling a little too much for me to think this was totally innocent.

"Why?" I asked, drawing out the question. I really didn't want to open the box.

He stood up and leaned over me, looking almost intimidating. "Rachel, just shut up and open it."

"O-kay," I said, lifting the lid off and setting it aside. I pulled apart the tissue paper and blinked stupidly at what I saw. A soft pink rubber cylinder lay in front of me – about four inches long and slightly bulbous at the tip, with a short rounded spike above the main shaft and a gleaming silver cap on the bottom end. "Uhm, Stephen... What is this?" I said weakly, making no move to touch it.

"You know what it is, Rachel," he said as he walked over by the closet. "Now stop freaking out and come here, cause I have another present for you." 

I wanted to wipe the stupid grin off his face, but I didn't know how, so I just walked over to where he was, box still gripped in my left hand.

"In there," he said, pointing. 

I leaned into the closet, looking cautiously, afraid of what I would see, but before my eyes adjusted he shoved me inside and closed the door on me, cackling like a 12 year old pulling a practical joke.

"Ha. Ha," I grumbled. "Funny." I reached for the door and pushed against it, but it didn't budge. "Stephen! What the hell! What are you doing?!" I yelled, bemused and startled and trying to cover up my uneasiness with anger. The box slipped out of my hand and I reached down, feeling around and finally grabbing the soft rubber surface of the vibrator. I was just standing there stupidly, holding awkwardly onto the rubber shaft and waiting for Stephen to open the door when I heard his voice from right outside.

"Pants, Rachel."

"What?"

"Give me your pants. Underwear too."

"How bout hell no?!"

He sighed dramatically. "Okay, then, I guess I have to come in and take them off you myself."

What? I stood for a minute and then jumped as the door handle started to turn.

"Stephen, wait! What's going on? What are you doing?" He must have heard the tremor in my voice, because he stopped with the door.

"Rach, you didn't think I had actually forgotten about the bet, did you? It's for your own good – and I like to win. I'm not hitting on you... I'm not being some sort of creepy voyeur; I'm just enacting a plan to win the bet. Now give me the pants or I'm seriously coming in. I'll close my eyes, but I hear I'm good with my hands, so I should be able to get them off anyways."

"What do I have to do after I take them off?" I asked in a small, subdued voice.

"Once I have them, nothing except hang out in there in the closet for a while." I could hear the smile in his voice

Alright, fine. I could man up and play along. I knew there had to be more to it than this, but it wasn't like he could see me or anything. Not to mention he'd seen it all last night. I slipped out of my pants and then tucked my cotton bikini briefs into the leg on one side before folding them and sticking them out of the door. "You better not sniff my panties or something weird," I said warningly. Stephen just laughed.

I sat down on the closet floor now, nothing to do but wonder about the flexible vibrator in my hand. I knew what it was, but I'd never been comfortable with the thought of using one. The extra swelling that looked like it was for clitoral stimulation was intriguing, but I really was not in the mood to think about it right now. I sat it back down on the heap of spilled tissue paper and tapped my fingers together.

"Stephen? I have to use the bathroom." 

No answer.

"Really bad... I'm going to pee all over this closet." I heard a chuckle from up against the door, and then he said, "Nice try, Rach. You just used the bathroom. You're fine."

"... But I'm bored."

He laughed even harder, sounding a little mischievous this time, and I wondered what this was all leading up to. I heard his weight move off the door and then footsteps, and I thought about making a break for it. At the same time, I was entirely naked from the waist down except for a pair of socks, and I thought the humiliation of diving out of a closet in that was a little more than I could handle. A few moments later, the noise of the TV filtered through the door, changing rapidly as he changed channels and then finally settling on one. It was just quiet enough that I couldn't tell what was going on as it came muted through the door. The volume shot up, resolving into 70s disco music as the door flexed with Stephen's weight again.

"There you go, sweetheart," he said absently through the door. "Entertainment for you."

'Sweetheart?' I thought, taken aback. I finally decided he was trying to be funny. Sick of sitting, I discovered that there was enough room to lie on my back in the closet if I bent my knees and put my feet flat on the wall, so I did so.

I closed my eyes and listened curiously as the bad disco faded out and new noises streamed through the door. Heels clacked rapidly along a hard floor, and then some kind of metal clanged and a feminine gasp echoed out from the TV. Horror movie? I mused idly. A breathy woman's voice rang out then. "Oh no! Are you here to arrest me?" Slow dramatic footfalls sounded one after another, and the dramatic bimbo gasped again. "I'm afraid I have to, Ma'am... unless you can convince me that you're innocent." The new voice was gravelly and extremely deep. Low budget crime movie? I wondered.

The girl spoke again. "Oh, sir! I'm so sorry, I'm afraid I did steal the money... But... part of me is still innocent! Maybe if I showed you, a big strong police officer like you could help an innocent off – ahem, out – and then you could let me go." She dropped to a breathy whisper. "I'm a virgin, officer... I've been waiting for the right man..."

Oh, Jesus. First the trashy romance novel (which, okay, had been better than expected so far) and now this. I couldn't believe I was listening to this crap. I never watched porn – I hadn't even realized that it was this badly acted. Although, I guessed this could just be a bad porno. I heard cloth ripping, and then the girl moaned. "Oh, yes, officer, yes!"

Trying to picture the scene, I was suddenly a little bit interested. More cloth noises, and then I heard "Oh, officer, do you think I could touch it, sir?" Now he moaned, and I was more interested. The guy had to be gorgeous, considering that this was all about visual appeal... I wondered if he had a huge penis. Probably. I kind of wanted to see it – I really hadn't seen all that many in my life, and none that were unusually large. 

Considering penis size, I thought about Stephen's last night, which was only a little longer than average, if any, but quite thick compared to my last ex. Anyway, I thought a little dreamily, what really mattered was the amazing way he had used it... The female porn star's cries of "Oh!" were echoing through the hotel room now, and I could hear a wet slurping noise (licking?,) so as much as I wanted to think about something other than sex, I was having trouble.

I sighed. I knew what Stephen's game was now – and how he planned to get me to lose the bet. I leaned forward a bit, sliding my folded hands under my head with elbows out to the side, and grinned when my elbow hit cool rubber. Clearly, Stephen hadn't calculated everything well – I had a tool right here to get me off without losing the bet.

I picked up the vibrator, considering it thoughtfully as I ran my hands along it feeling the contours. Realizing my line of thought, I dropped it, feeling its weight on my stomach as I blushed. This wasn't like me at all – this was dirty, the sort of thing that girls like the porn star would do (she was shrieking now: "Yes! Yes! OH, yes!") not girls like me. I realized uncomfortably, though, that I wanted to be dirty.

"Oh, Officer... Do you think I could suck you? If you let me suck your big thick cock, I can play with my own cunt..."

I started a little at the words. Je-zus. I was getting really turned on – and a little uncomfortable with the fact that all this was turning me on. Was I actually some kind of nympho? This was all too hardcore for me – I liked healthy American sex as much as anyone, but this seemed to be crossing a line.

I thought about it for a while, lying there, hearing the moans and grunts pouring out of the TV speakers. I realized that so far, I hadn't had any regret from helping myself out in the tub, which was less than I could say for some sexual encounters that I'd had in committed relationships. As much as there was a stigma against it, I just didn't see why – this wasn't going to hurt me or give me some sort of disease. And I wanted it, really really wanted it.

I thought about Stephen sitting against the door, less than a foot away from me, and felt even hotter at the thought of getting myself off with him there. He knew (or at least was hoping) that that was exactly what was going on, but it still felt incredibly naughty and secret.

Screw it, I thought. I was going to be sexy and naughty for once in my life, and I was going to fuck myself with my new toy until I was spasming, and I was going to feel damn good about it. I picked the vibe up off my chest, exploring the curves again, reassuring myself that it wasn't terrifyingly large or anything like that.

I slipped a finger down between my legs, testing the pool of wetness down there, and was gratified to find that I was already headed towards soaking.

Mmmm. My finger slipped along between my inner and outer lips, and it felt sooo good. For a moment I let myself slip the juices from my center all along the length, lubricating everything and sighing in contentment at the wet warm pleasure that this resulted in. I considered how I would look right now to an outside viewer and my arousal increased as I pictured the scene. I was laying there on the floor, stripped naked from the waist down, a finger buried in my shiny wet pussy, exposed by my spread legs and bent knees, and my eyes were closed as I sighed a little, enjoying the sensations. I let the index finger nestle perfectly between my inner and outer labia, snuggled in tightly and pushing my labia together in a delightfully slippery way, and then slid my middle finger into the same area on the other side. This was nice. Very nice. I wanted to luxuriate in the pleasure all day – but it didn't feel like enough to push me to orgasm, and on top of that, I vaguely remembered that I couldn't let that happen even if it was going to. The bet – and the vibrator. Right.

Running my hands over the soft toy again, I finally twisted the silver cap at the bottom, feeling four clicks and, suddenly, what seemed to be a very loud and aggressive vibration. Startled, I turned it back off quickly, terrified that Stephen would hear. Feeling a little uptight about everything again, I didn't want to put my hands back where they had started just yet – but my bravado wasn't gone and I was determined to cum right there in the closet. Instead, my right hand wandered up to my chest, remembering the intense pleasure I'd had the other night on brushing my nipple as well as how much it'd made me squirm when Dave used to expertly suck them. 

I tweaked on my left nipple gently, pulling it outwards, enjoying its stiffening as a slow sigh seeped through my lips. I settled into it then, switching between right and left, tugging just a little on each one before trailing my fingers across to the other side. Then, leaving the vibrator resting gently on the curve of my stomach, I slipped my other hand back between my legs, just letting it rest cupped over me. I started to breathe harder, feeling a little restless and acutely aware of Stephen's presence less than a foot away. I pictured him, leaning there, trying to eavesdrop on me, and probably watching the bad porno. I wondered if he had an erection. My fingers started to move between my legs as I thought about that, pictured it. 




Rachel and Stephen Ch. 05



Suddenly, the door made a crackling sound as his weight shifted, and I jumped – but even with the panic racing through me, my fingers didn't stop. I felt guilty for a moment, fantasizing about something that I knew was off-limits, and tried to focus on the sensation coming from my hand instead, as my finger circled around my clitoris, dipped lower to a pool of moisture, stroked along every sculpted edge of my labia. As my thigh muscles stiffened and my eyes fluttered shut, though, I gave up fighting what was clearly a losing battle. I quickly turned the vibrator on one click, and feeling its gentle hum, hovered it just over my labia, and my imagination went to work. As I slowly lowered the silicone tip to my folds, in my mind's eye I saw Stephen. I imagined him sitting just outside, cock stiff and bulging through his jeans. I imagined myself plunging the vibrator into myself for hands free enjoyment, throwing open the door, and as I nestled the tip into me and my breathing sped up, I thought about ripping off his jeans, yanking down his boxers, and engulfing his thick cock in my mouth. I was dying to feel his silk against my lips, and as I thought about it my hips unconsciously jerked up and the vibrator slid in me all the way.

I jerked, breath catching as the vibrations filled me, buzzing through every inch of my depths, but especially as the upper nub slipped directly against my clit, shooting sparks straight into the swollen bud. It was too much straight on, so I levered my new silicone best friend in and out of me, with tiny little thrusts. As everything tightened, a tiny whimper snuck out of my throat, and, hearing myself, I was gone over the edge, cumming hard as I shamelessly imagined sucking Stephen's cock. I whimpered, escalating, little "mm, mm, mm, mM!"s, barely more than a breath at first but growing each time, and I brought that quivering nub straight against my own quivering nub, vibrator meeting clitoris directly, and felt the contractions that exploded through me torque on the shaft of the vibrator, making it twitch with each wave of my pleasure. 

As the spasms finally died off, I sighed slowly, releasing the air that had pent up in my lungs as I came. I slowly clicked the vibrator off, but didn't have the energy to pull it out, and just lay there collapsed on the closet floor, legs splayed above me. Just as I began to be aware of the itchiness of the carpet against my buttocks and lower back, the door opened just a crack, and my jeans and underwear, folded neatly, were dropped inside before it clicked shut again. Feeling a little shy, I pulled the vibrator out of me and began to wiggle back into my panties. After my jeans were on and buttoned (no small endeavor in that cramped space,) I stood up slowly, feeling the weakness in my legs still. I hesitated before opening the door, not knowing what to do with the vibrator, which was slippery from my juices, and shy about facing Stephen, who clearly knew what had just happened. When I finally tried the handle, though, the door swung open easily, and there was no one in the room. The TV was off, as well, and I wondered when that had happened. Stealthily, I walked quickly into the bathroom, rinsed my new toy, and tucked it, wrapped in some toilet paper, into the drawer next to the requisite hotel bible. I stood there for a minute, feeling ridiculously guilty, and then quickly opened the drawer again and sat the bible on the top of the dresser instead. I wasn't even religious, but it just felt wrong to have a sex toy right next to it, I thought, blushing.

As I walked back toward the front of the room, the door jumped open and Stephen walked in carrying a can of soda, presumably from the vending machine down the hall. 

"Hey," I said with studied casualness. 

"Oh, hey," he said, and I fought off irritation, because his casual attitude seemed to need no feigning. I sat down in a chair as he cracked the top and slurped down Mtn. Dew. 

"Uh, so, were we gonna talk about plans for tonight?" I asked, refusing to acknowledge anything that just happened if he was going to be so freakin' nonchalant.

"Yeah, sure," he responded, somehow having already finished the whole can of soda. "I was thinking pretty mellow for tonight. We've got 2 more nights ahead of us, and I don't wanna burn out to quickly."

"Sounds good," I said, still scanning him for any sign that my closet session had happened earlier at all, but his face revealed nothing.

"So do you just wanna grab dinner here at the hotel and check out the casino here?"

"Yeah, sure!" Certain now that there would be no awkwardness, I was getting excited about the trip. "And, well..." I looked down, feeling silly, "do you think you would be up for some kind of touring thing or something? I just, uh, it's been a really long time since I've been here and I'd like a chance to see the city."

I looked up hesitantly, but relaxed when I saw him smiling indulgently at me. "Rachel, of course! Let's go! That sounds great, and the point was for you to enjoy yourself. However..." He walked over to the minibar and pulled out a few small bottles. "Let's make sure you're loosened up, you'll have more fun."

I rolled my eyes, but grabbed a bottle from him and tossed it back. "Okay, let's go now! We can cruise around for a few hours and then come back to change and head to dinner."



Rachel and Stephen Ch. 06



It's a series. Start at the beginning.



After I switched into walking shoes, we headed out. We had decided against an actual guided tour, since we'd both been here before, and we just set off strolling through town. I was thoroughly enjoying the way the city started to sparkle as twilight fell, and Stephen must not have been too bored, because he was smiling the whole time.

I was in a remarkably good mood as we walked along, feeling like a princess as I soaked in all the glitter around me. I resisted the urge to twirl in a circle as we stopped in front of the Bellagio fountains, but I was still a little wide-eyed as I stared at the glory around me. I didn't notice when Stephen stopped, distracted by all the sights, and it was only when he grabbed my hand and pulled me to him that I realized he'd been calling my name. He smoothly tugged me right next to him, and threw an arm around me, maneuvering his phone to take a picture. I grinned in real happiness at the camera lens, luxuriating in the warm strength of his arm around me, and my grin grew further when a sweet old woman said loudly to her husband "Honey, look at those two. Such a handsome couple." I looked at Stephen, waiting for him to correct them or laugh, but he only smiled down at me, and we walked on with his arm still around my shoulders.

By the time we had gotten much further, I was hungry and my feet were tired, so we grabbed a bus back to the hotel. When I ducked in and emerged in the fluorescently lit aisleway, though, I was dismayed to see only one open seat, and my worn down mood showed when Stephen plopped right in it. "Uh, okay, guess I'll stand," I said sharply, glaring at his handsome profile. 

He just laughed. "No, silly, you won't," he said, and pulled me down onto his lap, with his arms wrapped securely around my abdomen. I sat stiffly, resisting the urge to melt into him as my heart sped up and my body tried to merge with his warmth. I was forced to relax when the bus went around a corner and I nearly toppled off, though, so I let myself sit more firmly against him, doing my best to ignore the feeling of his body against mine. 

I nearly stopped breathing when his thumb started stroking up and down. It was the higher hand on my abdomen, and it nearly brushed the bottom of my breast on every upstroke. By the time we reached our hotel, my pulse was rocketing and I was praying that he couldn't sense the heat I was sure was radiating from between my legs. I dove off the bus as soon as it was stopped, and nearly ran into the hotel and towards the elevator.

I cursed to myself when Stephen's long legs let him catch up to me easily and he slipped into the elevator next to me. "Whoa, Rach, where's the fire?" he asked, laughing at me.

"I just really want to get ready for the night! Need to shower and decide what to wear!" I said in a chipper tone, congratulating myself on the smooth lie.

He just laughed. "Well, you do have at least an hour, Rach. I'm realistic about how long women take to get ready." I just stuck my tongue out in response and wished the elevator were faster.

As soon as I reached my room, I rushed to my suitcase. I had to pick an outfit fast, I decided, and then I could use my new toy and deal with the blasted horniness that was attacking me yet again. As I rummaged through my clothes in irritation, I berated myself for having turned into such a nympho. "Rachel," I said out loud, "What is going on with you? You're absolutely depraved right now. Why can't you behave like an adult? You don't even have a boyfriend to be turning you on! This is all your own crazy head! Weren't you fine without this at all for basically your whole life?" My irritation grew as I reached the bottom of the suitcase. "Rachel, not to mention, where the heck are your cute clothes? Why did you buy these in college?? This," I threw a slinky silver halter top across the room, "is only a third of a shirt, and these," I crumpled a flower print pair of pants in irritation, "are just hideous!"

Giving up for a minute, I reached into the drawer where I had stashed the vibrator earlier, and frowned in confusion when my hand hit a book instead of the cylinder I was expecting. I felt around in panic, and on jerking the drawer all the way open, was forced to admit to myself that there was no vibrator. Just a book, another romance, but not the one from earlier – and with some sort of paper sticking out from the middle. I pulled the book open to read the note, sulking in frustration, and saw Stephen's familiar scrawl.

RACH, SORRY, BUT I'M A MAN WHO LIKES TO WIN HIS BETS. I SKIPPED AHEAD – THE BEST PART IS HERE, I PROMISE.

I closed the book around his note again and threw it on the bed in frustration. There was no way I was losing his stupid bet! "Ugghhhh!" I yelled, flopping facedown in the heap of clothes for a minute. As I lay there, breathing in the lavender of my laundry soap, a knock came at my door. "It's opennn," I groaned listlessly. 

Stephen popped his head in. "Hey Rach, listen, I got a call from work and I just need to –" He trailed off as he saw me flopped there and chuckled. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't have any cute clothes anymore," I moaned miserably, unwilling to tell him the other cause of my frustration. 

He walked over to the bed, and though I stiffened, seemed not to see the book. "Hmmmm," he said, rummaging. After only a few seconds, he tossed a knee length black skirt I'd forgotten I'd packed and a lacy teal tanktop that I wore under suit jackets to work usually. "Here," he said cheekily, "Not great but it'll do," and as he saw my dejected look "and you will make it look gorgeous," he added with an admiring glance at my body.

As I was blushing and trying to process that, he was already walking back to the door. "Anyways, what I came over to say is I have to call work, and you should have at least an extra half hour." And with that he left again, and I was left blushing and horny as ever – trying to think what I could do with an extra half hour that might help.

After a shower spent considering my options, I was sadly forced to conclude that there was nothing I could do. This hotel didn't have a tub either, only a shower, and I knew there was no way my tired legs were going to hold me up in front of the water stream. Dejectedly, I started shoving everything but my chosen outfit back in the suitcase. I let my towel drop and grabbed a thong and strapless bra that I had (luckily) remembered to bring, and as I pulled them across my bed I saw the book again.

Distracted, I sat down to look at Stephen's note again. Hmm, what did he mean by the best part? I flopped back against the pillows as I opened and started to read, and my eyes widened. Elizabeth lay there gasping in frustration, still feeling the searing kiss that George had left her with before retreating to his own room. Her fiery temper flared. It was unfair of him to do this! Unfair to scorch her senseless with his hot kiss, and run his warm tongue down her neck while his hands massaged her breasts! Unfair to grind his thigh at the apex of her thighs to leave this aching sticky heat between her legs – and as she thought this, her hands were pulling her nightgown up and her curious hand was reaching there to see what was happening to her. 

I squirmed, driven to desperation by the parallels to my own situation. I wanted to stop reading, but wasn't sure I could – and as my eyes returned to the page, I let my arousal pull my hands to my core, telling myself that there was no way Stephen would know if I just dealt with this quickly. At first, I wasn't even planning to cum. I slipped two fingers there in a vee, framing my inner labia, and wriggled them around, my breathing shallow, but I swore to go no further.

But then I started reading again. Elizabeth's finger found her very center, and she arched with a muffled whimper. This – this was what her body had needed. Her redhead's temper stayed fiery as the moist curls framing her swollen flower and she thought exultantly that she would show George. She didn't need his kisses, didn't need the love that he seemed determined to deny her, and she cried out as she thought of his kiss again. But little did she know, George, Viscount of Dunbury, leaned his head against the outside of her door at that very moment, rethinking his honorable intentions. He thought of the desperation on his beauty's face, pleading for things she didn't understand when he tore away from their kisses, and was fighting a moan of his own when he heard hers. He froze in disbelief, hearing another whimper that was certainly one of pleasure, and as his rod throbbed powerfully, he threw open her door, no longer able to resist.

I gave up my own resistance, plunging two fingers into the gaping mouth of my desire. I moaned, low and animalistic, as I caught sight of myself in the mirrored closet across from my bed, and switched my view from the steamy words on the page to my reflection again and again as I stroked myself, shaking with need. No longer able to focus on reading, I let the book drop to my side, and stared open-mouthed at the goddess in the mirror across from me. Whoever she was, it certainly couldn't be me. She lounged there, sideways across the bed, and her peach pink nipples jutted proudly up into the air, topping the midsize peaks of her breasts. Her legs were spread wantonly, revealing a glistening mound of deep pink folds with a hand buried deeply in it, and her head was thrown back, staring back at me in ecstasy. I quivered in excitement, arousal burning even higher from looking at this, and proving to myself that it was me, I arched my back, moaning as I tugged on a nipple, and watched as the reflection did the same.

Oh god. I gasped in and moaned out, plunging fingers into me as my palm ground down on my clit. Everything was slick, drenched in my slippery wetness, and my hand ground down harder and harder. I knew I'd hit the point of no return. My whole body tensed in excitement, and I stared directly into my own eyes in the mirror, sprawling to see my whole body flushed pink with excitement, moaning a little louder than necessary because I was enchanted by how sexy I was. I added a third finger, my core greedily sucking it in and clamping down on it as I reached climax, grinding down impossibly hard and thrusting against my hand. As I watched myself cum in the mirror, I cried out hard, not caring who heard me. "Oohhhhhhhhhhhhhh..." I trailed off slowly, still rocking my hips against my hand and exulting in the vaginal spasms that hugged my fingers, still staring at the vision of my creamy skin, peach nipples, and hand fucking in the mirror.

I sighed in extreme pleasure, just laying there then, still staring and feeling incredibly victorious. I could masturbate. I could cum when I wanted, and I was sexy as fuck. I laughed in sheer joy. I didn't know why I'd avoided pleasing my body for this long – it felt amazing, and plus it was seriously hot. 

My reverie was interrupted when the door swung open. I dove under the blankets faster than I thought I could move, but no one came in. I was frozen in nervousness when Stephen's voice reached me. "So, Rach, trip's on me-" he paused to clear his throat, and I wondered at the shaky quality of his voice. "So, throw on some street clothes, it's time to go buy you a new outfit, gorgeous."

He knew. I knew he knew. Fuck.



Rachel and Stephen Ch. 07



It's a series. You'll be totally lost if you don't read at least a few of the preceding chapters. Furthermore, this chapter is ENTIRELY PLOT BUILDING. THERE IS NO SEX. Please, please do not rate badly because there is no sex. You have been warned. 

*

I sat up, letting the scratchy hotel blanket fall from my head, and stared blankly at the wall. I barely saw the textured white surface as I thought about what was going on in my life right now. My legs still shook from my orgasm, and I was naked there. And Stephen knew what had just happened.

It seemed to me that the situation had spiraled far, far out of control. Maybe it had already been out of hand that night on my balcony. I didn't know. All I knew was that I had been getting myself off in close proximity to my (male) best friend on an alarmingly regular basis, and I was liking it. Not just the masturbation -- which was nice -- but the whole Stephen maybe knowing sexual tension thing. And we'd had sex. I pictured his body, felt his lips against my neck as he thrust into me, and I felt like crying.

I was so one hundred percent attracted to him. I had no idea how I'd made it this long thinking I wasn't. Hell, he was the thing I was thinking about to get myself off nine times out of ten!

Slowly, I pulled myself off the bed and over to my suitcase. Without seeing what I was doing, I grabbed some jeans and a random shirt and slipped them on. My walking shoes went back on my feet, and I headed towards the door. I was going to tell him -- what, I wasn't exactly sure -- but this was too far, this couldn't go on like this, this whole fiasco was over. 

When I opened the door to my room, Stephen was there directly in front of me. For a moment, staring at his five o'clock shadow and warm eyes, I forgot what I was going to say.

"I..."

"Yes?" he asked, and he leaned up close to me and reached behind my back to close the door.

I froze with my mouth still open. His body was inches away from me with the movement, and I could feel his warmth. Feeling like I was falling, I leaned back against the door, anything to get away from this incredible tension in me, but he stayed as close as before.

Two inches separated our lips. I could feel his breath brushing across my chin. I knew if I leaned now I could kiss him -- or he could kiss me. Our eyes were locked, and surely he would move any minute now to take my lips.

His tongue peeked out for a moment as he moistened said lips, and a gust of air escaped me. "Rach?" he said lowly, "you were gonna say something?"

"I -- I..." I closed my eyes. I couldn't even talk with him this close. I rushed it all out on one breath. "I just think that this was a bad idea and I know it was good intentioned because you want me to be happy and meet guys but I think we took things too far so this all needs to be over now and I can meet guys like any normal girl in Vegas."

I felt him move away from me abruptly, before I even had my eyes opened. When I looked, he was standing a few feet away, and I thought I saw something like pain cross his face, but then he chuckled and I knew I was wrong. "Rach, it IS over. Obviously. Now just let me buy you an outfit and dinner -- consider it payment for emotional distress -- and we'll forget all about this." 

Something sharp stabbed inside me and I felt tears well up for a moment.

No. No, no, no. Oh God. This wasn't just attraction. This was feelings. This sinking feeling of disappointment about the distance between us had nothing to do with my libido. I had FEELINGS for STEPHEN. I didn't want to forget about any of this. If I hadn't been leaning against a wall already, I might have fallen, but instead I just stood there frozen, focusing on my shaky breath.

I couldn't meet his eyes, but he didn't seem to notice. "Well..." I said, low and uncertain.

"Rach, you know I have plenty of money."

It was true. I also knew that I would at least get an hour or two of just us time if I agreed, so I did.

We walked down to the street and hailed a cab, and the whole time my mind was whirling madly. I tried to recapture the confidence I'd had after my little masturbation session, with limited success. There was nothing to be done, no possibility of an 'us' -- that much was painfully obvious to me. If Stephen had wanted an 'us,' he would have just kissed me. 

So the only solution here was to get over it as fast as possible -- and what better place or way? I was in Vegas, I was brimming (kind of) with new-found sexual empowerment, and I was about to get a new outfit. Any other girl would have been ecstatic, so I did my best.

When I stepped into the first store, the excitement started to become real. There were beautiful clothes EVERYWHERE. Stephen slapped my hand every time I tried to look at a price tag, so, giggling, I just started grabbing things to try on.

Once I was in the dressing room, my enthusiasm waned a little. The first thing I did was check all of the price tags -- I wasn't really going to let Stephen spend absurd amounts of money. Sadly, four of the dresses I had were well over 200 dollars, which I had decided on as a limit, so I sat those aside. 

The first one I tried on was about to split a seam over my hips. No go. Feeling fat, I grabbed the second one in the pile -- a shimmery grey dress with cap sleeves and a v neck -- and shimmied into it. It was comfortable, and when I looked in the mirror my jaw dropped.

I looked like some kind of goddess. The tiny little sleeves capped off my shoulders perfectly before the neckline dove down to spill out cleavage. My waist looked absurdly tiny, and I was showing a lot of leg below the flowy little skirt. I spun, admiring my reflection, and then looked at the rest of dresses on the hanger. None of them were going to compare to this -- I was absolutely certain.

I re-dressed and slipped back out, carrying only the grey dress. Stephen looked up from his phone, leaned against the wall, and gave me a startled look. "Rachel, you're done already? You don't need to hurry -- I don't mind waiting."

"Thanks, but I think I found the one I want," I said shyly, still having trouble meeting his eyes.

"Are you sure?" He sounded doubtful. "You didn't even ask my opinion or anything."

I wasn't going to. This dress was for meeting a guy here tonight who would be interested in me -- somebody who wasn't carrying years and years of our friendship baggage. Also, a small secret part of me that I wasn't going to admit to wanted him to be surprised and wowed by my appearance tonight.

"I'm sure," I said. "If you're still up for buying me an outfit, then let's go."

He eyed me for a minute and shrugged. "Of course I'm still up for it, Rachel. I don't break my commitments. But come on, that's a dress, not an outfit. We need shoes, right? And probably jewelry." 

I looked at him and saw the familiar grin and sparkling eyes that had been missing since we'd headed in to shop, and my heart filled with warmth. Maybe our friendship was going to be easier to save than I'd thought, as long as I could restrain myself.

Stephen chose the shoes himself after I held the dress up -- nude pumps. I knew he was right as soon as I saw them, and I wasn't much of a jewelry girl, so we were out of the store in less than an hour total.

By then I had relaxed for the most part, but every time he touched me, hand brushing my arm to get my attention, tap on my shoulder, whatever, I had to fight the urge to stiffen up. 

I was relieved to return to the hotel, and I threw myself whole-heartedly into getting ready for my night out. I put on girl power music -- Pat Benatar, my secret retro addiction -- and focused on how sexy I was as I showered and shaved my legs. I applied more makeup than usual carefully, finishing the look with cat-eye liner. The last touch was to curl my hair and stick it up in a high ponytail. With the pushup bra Stephen had purchased on under the dress and feet slid into my new heels, I was ready to go.

I turned the music off, took one slow deep breath, and headed down the hallway to Stephen's room. I held confident posture and knocked two sharp knocks on the door. When he opened it, muscular frame covered in a blue dress shirt and slim fit slacks, my legs started to shake, but I just smiled at him.

"Hey."

He looked me up and down and I held my breath. Finally, he said "You look like you plan on getting laid tonight."

His face was expressionless and I didn't know whether to be offended or flattered. "I do," I said shortly. "Let's go so I have a shot at making that happen."

His jaw tightened for a minute, but he just nodded and grabbed his keys. 

We went to one of the hotel restaurants down on the bottom floor. It had great reviews and I wasn't disappointed when I walked in and saw neon lights, chandeliers, and glitz. Even the busty and gorgeous hostess couldn't dampen my spirits, and I was getting admiring looks from multiple men, so the night seemed to be off to a good start.

When she asked us where we wanted to sit, I answered, "Bar, please," but Stephen stopped her with an overly charming smile and a hand to her shoulder.

"Actually, we'll take a booth."

Irked, I narrowed my eyes at him. What kind of game was he up to now?

As soon as the waitress walked away, I hissed "Stephen, what are you doing? If I'm sitting at a booth with a guy, I'll have to wear a sign that said 'Single' to get any male attention!"

After a long look, Stephen just said "Trust me."

I threw my hands up in the air, but secretly I was thrilled to have more time with him. He was uncharacteristically quiet, though, and more and more I had an overwhelming urge to stare at him, so I was getting frustrated. 

Finally, I got up to go to the bathroom -- and also to walk slowly by a really cute guy at the bar who kept looking at me. When I came back out and passed him again, he was holding two glasses of wine -- and held one out to me!

I glanced over at Stephen and noticed he was looking at me. Smugly, I accepted the wine and sat down on a stool next to mystery-cute-guy. 

"Hey," he said, in a deep voice that won my full attention. "I'm Aiden."

I smiled sweetly at him. "Rachel. Thanks for the wine." 

Two and a half glasses later, I was giggling adoringly at Aiden. He was funny, cute, and a bank manager -- and also Stephen had managed to get the hostess to take over my spot at the table on her break, and he needed to see that I was having fun too. 

"So, do you have a plan for the night?" asked Aiden.

"Uh, not really. Just hoping to meet someone fun and enjoy myself," I answered, marveling at my daring.

He grinned. "Well, in that case..." He motioned the bartender over and continued, "How bout a shot of whiskey and then we hit the floor," gesturing towards the whirling lights of the adjacent casino.

"Done!" I said, and tossed back the amber-colored liquid the bartender had produced, savoring the burn in my throat.

When I stood up a few moments later, I barely kept my balance. Crap. I hadn't eaten anything, and I was feeling a wee bit over-intoxicated. Oh well, didn't matter. The positive thing was I hadn't thought about Stephen in like 45 minutes, and I was pretty sure I was getting lucky tonight.

Halfway into the casino section, my heel caught on the plush carpet and I stumbled. Aiden caught me with an arm around my waist, and, enjoying the firm male warmth of his arm against my back, I spun up against him and kissed him.

The first meeting of our lips was clumsy, but I steadied myself with an arm around his neck and things smoothed out. His stubble chafed against me in a pleasant way, and even though there wasn't any earth-moving spark between us, his warm lips felt really good and I opened my mouth to him. 

His hands firmly grabbed my hips, guiding me tightly against growing arousal, and I groaned just a little. Yep. I was definitely getting lucky tonight. I circled my tongue around his lips, preparing to kiss him deeply, but a tapping on my shoulder interrupted me.

"Yes?" I said sharply, sucking in air. I turned to see Stephen glowering at me.

"Can we talk for a minute?"

"Uh..." I turned back to Aiden, mouthing 'So sorry...' "You don't mind if I talk to my friend for a minute, do you? I can meet you at the tables in five." His brow creased, but I smiled at him reassuringly, and he finally left.

Stephen wrapped a hand around my upper arm as soon as I turned back to him. "Rachel, what the hell are you doing? Maybe we should get you back to your room already."

I jerked out of his grasp, almost falling over in the process. "What the hell are YOU doing?? Don't be a cockblock, kay?"

He crossed his arms in irritation. "You need to calm down. You haven't eaten, you're half wasted already, and you found the nearest bar lech to glom onto. Don't you see why I'm concerned?"

"What do you mean?! It's Vegas! I can have fun if I want! And Aiden is a bank manager. He's nice! And cute. And INTERESTED! And stop trying to get me to leave -- I'm not going back to my hotel room alone tonight. I though you WANTED me to get laid."

He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair in a familiar sign of frustration. "Rach, you are parading around dressed like easy pickings, and you could do way, way better! Just let me keep an eye out for you! Jeeze, Rach, there are so many other things to life than easy sex!"

What? I was confused and infuriated. "What is even wrong with you? I am getting so many goddamn mixed messages, Stephen! You don't want me but nobody else can have me either? Is that it? Because I am so fucking done! I can't deal with your confusing hypocritical crap right now!"

My voice had been climbing louder and louder, and as I finished I realized people around us were staring. I felt unpleasantly drunk and tacky, and I staggered a little as I stepped back from Stephen. He just stood there frozen, staring at me with a strange look of hurt and frustration.

Quietly, I finished, "Look, I'm going to go back to my room. Maybe I've had a little too much already. And tomorrow I'm getting on a plane and I'm going home. Sorry."

I stumbled off to the elevator, back into my room, and then I kicked off the stupid shoes, stripped of the dress, and booked a flight out in the morning. Then I collapsed into bed and cried bitterly. I heard a knock on the door a few minutes later, but I just ignored it and stayed lost in my fog of self-pity.

The next morning, I didn't feel any better. I had a minor headache, thanks to the wine and the crying, and if anything I felt more humiliated and hurt than I had the night before. Quietly, I slunk out of my hotel room, checked out, and headed home.



Rachel and Stephen Ch. 08



2 months later

It was a Saturday afternoon, but I was still in bed. I had the comforter thrown back, luxuriating in the sunlight that splashed in through my window across my naked body. My window faced open air on an upper story, so I knew the chances that I was being watched through there or through my open door were minute, but I still stretched in an intentionally appealing way as I ran my hands across my breasts, enjoying the tension of my stiff nipples against my palms.

I left my left hand there, massaging and teasing and tugging on those firm peaks, and the other hand began to stroke lower across my abdomen. I watched those muscles tighten as my fingers crossed my belly-button, skimming across my mons, and sighed as I brushed a fairy-light touch across my labia. 

I pulled firmly on my right nipple right as I dipped a finger barely into the pool of moisture between my legs, and my breath sped quickly at the feelings that rushed through me. My finger dipped down again, pressing a little more firmly, sliding just barely into that slick canal, and I felt my back arch up slightly. God, this was good. 

My hand fell into a familiar pattern then, fingers spreading slippery moisture over each and every swollen fold between my legs until I ached with need, and then I let my palm settle gently onto the center of the wet, fiery heat. 

AS I sucked a breath in across parted lips, my eyes fluttered shut and I felt a familiar movie start to play on the inside of the lids.

Stephen.

Nope. Something else. Anything else.

As I started to rub, pleasurable sparks flickering around my labia warmly like the static on clothes fresh out of the dryer, I conjured up the image of a sweaty fireman – but he had Stephen's face.

Nope, nope, nope.

I tried to focus on the sensation alone as I rubbed more and more firmly, pressing into that taut and swollen flesh, letting the rhythm of my body take over, and finally all thought slipped from my mind but the tension growing in my core.

I could feel my breathing grow heavy then, gasping a little, maybe the faintest suggestion of a moan on the exhale. The pleasure was hot, burning, growing, my hand slipping and sliding and grinding against the bud of my clitoris, a swollen pearl against my flesh.

A choked groan echoed against my ears – but not mine.

My eyes shot open, widening at the sight of a male figure at my open door, but my hand – and the rest of my body - was past the point of stopping. Eyes locked with Stephen's warm startled gaze, I came then, spasming and moaning unabashedly. 

The world slowed down, and my body went limp as the electric pleasure faded into a warm feeling of satisfaction. My eyes had shut at some point and I opened them again to see Stephen still standing frozen at the door.

"That key was for emergencies," I said, voice soft. When he just blinked in return I remembered my disheveled exposed state. "Can you hand me my robe, please?"

I gestured with the recently used hand and then blushed when I realized it was still damp. Stephen tore his eyes off me and carefully stared at the wall as he grabbed the light silk of my robe and tossed it over to me. As I stood up and slipped it on, I mulled over what to say.

We hadn't spoken since Vegas. I was just finally starting to unwind his strings from around my heart – was I really ready to talk to him? Not to mention, ready to talk to him in a situation this awkward?

Safely covered, I settled on just sitting back on the bed and crossing my arms. Stephen was the one who'd walked in on me. He could start the conversation. A very long moment passed, and at the end of it he was still staring at the wall while I glared. Something inside me felt raw and painful – I didn't know how we'd gotten to this point, but somehow we felt like strangers. My throat felt tight as I realized that this silence meant it really was all over. It was time to get him out of my apartment and forget him.

But maybe five years of friendship paid off in that moment after all. Right as everything felt like it was shattering inside me, Stephen's warm brown eyes finally met mine, hooded in seriousness.

"It was an emergency," he said.

"Look," I said, "Don't be cryptic. Is something really wrong? I'm not really prepared to play verbal games with you right now."

"Rach," he said, stepping closer to me and holding eye contact. "Rach, hush. Something is really wrong."

I started to panic, thinking cancer or bankruptcy or something else terrible but he hushed me again as soon as my mouth opened.

"Just listen, please," he said.

I nodded.

"The emergency," he continued, "is that I've been thinking... a lot. And I realized I was in the process of slowly losing my best friend because of some harsh words and my inability to apologize."

His tone was rough and stilted and I felt my heart soften immediately. "I'm sorry," I interjected thickly.

"I'm not done."

I nodded again, eyebrows raised in confused anticipation.

"Okay," he said, "so, losing my best friend, which is bad enough. But the reason that I froze up – and I've thought a lot about this – the reason I froze up so much and I just couldn't make myself apologize is that you are so, so so much more than my best friend."

My mouth opened again to ask what he meant but I found myself totally frozen, eyes locked to his like a lifeline.

"You're beautiful, you know," he said, and it came out rushed and a little uncomfortable. Before I could reply, he continued, "No, you really are. You are so beautiful. I don't know how I didn't realize sooner. And you're wonderful and smart and responsible and just generally fantastic, and the last two months have been the hardest months of my life. Not talking with you – not being with you – makes me feel like half my soul is withering away inside me, as cliché as that sounds."

Finally finding the ghost of my voice, I croaked out in a whisper, "What are you saying?"

"That – that I'm sorry for yelling at you in Vegas. And I'm sorry for manipulating you into our whole crazy bet. And I'm so, so sorry it's taken me this long to apologize."

A pang of disappointment shot through me. "I'm sorry, too. Is that all?"

He ran a hand through his hair in a tense, jerky way. "No, it's not. I – agh. I really am sorry for yelling at you, Rach, but I'm not sorry I stopped you from going home with that guy. I'm not! Because he was a creep. And because..."

"Because?" I prompted as the silence dragged on.

"Because you shouldn't throw yourself away on a guy like that. Because you belong with, well, with me, not with him! Because I want to be with you." By the end of the speech, Stephen's voice was emphatic but shaky, and his eyes were locked on the floor.

Disbelief shot through me, followed by confusion and panic in quick succession. This was what I wanted. This couldn't be real. I had to be misunderstanding. Stephen wasn't into girls like me.

Shaking, I finally opened my mouth, daring to look him in the eye when he looked up at me. "Sexually?"

His breath hissed out in half a laugh. "God, yes. In any way that you'll let me, Rach! Hell, I'd settle for holding your hand."

"Stephen..." My eyes prickled but I kept talking, choking a little on a tightening throat. "You really want to be with me? Like, romantically?" I was sniffling then, tears blurring the sight of his wonderful familiar face.

"If you're interested," he answered stiffly. A sob slipped out of my mouth then as I nodded and I heard rather than saw him step toward me. "Rach, baby, come here! Don't cry!"

I stumbled my way into his warm arms, sobbing like a child and sniffing copious amounts of mucus back. Needless to say, this wasn't how I'd imagined this moment, but I forgot entirely about that as he pulled me close and my ear settled against the warm thrum of his heartbeat through the soft cotton of a t-shirt.

"What's wrong?" His voiced rumbled into my ear and it took me a moment to hear the panicked edge to it.

"I m-m-m-issed you," I sobbed out shakily.

"Shh," he said softly. "I missed you, too."

"I'm sorry that I acted... stupid," I said. I struggled to find the words to explain the emotional maelstrom within me. "I just – it seemed like everything, Vegas, the bet, was a game to you, but I was falling hard for you. I couldn't deal with that. I didn't want to ruin our friendship or end up hurt, but I almost ended up doing both anyway."

Stephen chuckled weakly in my ear. "Rachel, I acted even stupider. I got a good look at you and next thing you know I was seeing you in a new way and I stopped thinking with my head. I'm pretty sure I've had feelings for you for about forever, if I'm honest, but all of a sudden you were right there in front of me and so damn sexy. I fell for you too – that's why I lashed out when you wanted to go home with that creep. I just couldn't deal with the idea of his hands on you – not on this body and not in that dress, right when it felt like you were almost within my grasp..."

I took a breath. "I love you," I said, surprising even myself.

Stephen was quiet for a minute, and I pulled back to look at his face, terror twisting the pit of my stomach. He was smiling down at me, though, a delighted smile that made his coffee-colored eyes glow, and when he saw my look his smile broadened. "I love you, too," he said, without a moment of hesitation.

I kissed him, then, stretching up on my tiptoes to reach those broad smiling lips. They were so warm and soft as they caught mine, a sharp contrast to the cold tears that I could feel smudge against his cheeks when our faces met, and the kiss was soft and sweet and all-consuming, taking even my breath. I pulled back for air, but he barely let me move before his lips claimed mine again, pulling sweetly at me and sending warmth trickling through my body. We kissed for a long time, our caresses joyous and desperate and chaste in a way that I hadn't felt since my first boyfriend. Stephen's lips lit me on fire, but it burned gently, and we never even moved except for when his hand wrapped around the back of my neck and pulled me closer. 

"I love you, Rachel," he whispered, breaking our contact for a small moment, and I whispered it back before pressing my mouth to his again. 

Finally, I stepped back a few inches, unsteady on my feet and shaking with happiness. "So what happens now? We fall into bed and live happily ever after?" I asked, half joking.

Stephen laughed and hugged me tight to him. "Would you mind if I just held you for a while instead?"

"No," I squeaked out. We tumbled ungracefully onto the bed then, and I oofed out a gasp when his weight landed heavily on me.

"Sorry!" he said, laughing, and carefully rolled over with me positioned on top of him. When his arms were wrapped securely around my back again, I sighed in pure joy. This still felt surreal, but blissfully so. My face tucked perfectly into the hollow between his neck and shoulder and I had to resist an urge to purr like a kitten.

After a few moments of sweet silence, I murmured into the soft skin of his neck, "I suppose I should probably thank you for making me lose that bet. It's a skill I like having."

He chuckled softly, stomach rippling against mine. "I should thank me for teaching you that skill. It's a beautiful thing to see."

I started to blush, but before I could really feel embarrassed Stephen moved to kiss me. I met him enthusiastically, and the warmth of embarrassment spiraled into a different kind of warmth deep within me.

He sucked in a short breath between deep kisses and murmured against my lips, "I might have changed my mind on the whole falling into bed thing."

I just kissed him deeper in response, tongue bumping gently against the soft skin of his lips. His mouth slipped open and our tongues caressed wetly, heat dancing between us. I heard him groan slightly as his hands clamped tightly onto the small of my back, crushing me against his chest, and I squirmed in happiness.

Heat caught quickly inside me, and I could feel the moisture pool between my thighs, only barely dried from my recent orgasm. I gently nibbled Stephen's lower lip, and his sharp intake of breath was followed by him suddenly rolling me to my back. I lay there breathless for a moment, staring up at his eyes, sparkling with deep black pupils, and then gasped when he leaned down and started suckling on my neck. His lips nibbled lower and lower along the sensitive skin until they brushed the v-neck collar of my silky robe. I could see the peaks of my nipples perk up against the thin fabric in response, and I slowly sucked in a breath, hoping to direct his mouth to those twin peaks.

He kissed down my sternum, directly between them, and never even wavered to either side. I whimpered a little in frustration, but Stephen just brushed a kiss across my pouting lips in response. 

I decided to fight fire with fire and untied my robe, then, pulling open the olive colored silk to expose a tensed abdomen, heaving breasts, and the shadowed vee between my thighs. 

"God, Rach!" exhaled Stephen. I just arched upward, shoving my taut nipples toward his face, and he finally complied by swooping down to claim one between his moistened lips. I shivered and groaned in delight. His mouth was magical. I felt his tongue swirl around the swollen point, and then he pulled back, increasing suction and sending warm zings of delight through me. As soon as the pink bud popped free of his lips I was eagerly shoving its twin into his mouth, whimpering when he urgently pulled the whole front of my soft breast into the hot cave between his lips. It felt like hot, liquid velvet brushing across an extremely sensitive part of my anatomy, and I almost protested when he pulled back again. 

However, my distress was short-lived, as his hot tongue began tracing a burning pattern down my stomach and lower. Anticipation built within me, and by the time he placed a small, gentle kiss at the apex of my thighs, I was panting.

"Fuck me," I gasped.

A sharp inhalation told me he'd heard.

"Stephen, baby, fuck me, please!"

"In a little bit," he growled.

"Now!"

"Rachel, listen, trust me when I say I'm planning on it. But right now I want to taste every inch of your body, and get to know what I've been missing out on."

I moaned at that, feeling his breath gust against my moistened core with every word, wordlessly spreading my thighs for him in silent answer.

He kissed me again there on my inner lips, ever so gently, and then his tongue slipped out and traced the outer edges of my folds and I lost all sense of the specifics. Whatever he was doing, it was wonderful, hot and slick and caressing, almost tickling me, til I cried out a little with every movement. As he licked and caressed me, I felt a warm fuzzy tingle start in my feet and I knew I was close – but I didn't want to miss out on a chance to have Stephen inside me.

Panting, I choked out, "I'm close. Stop, stop, I'm close, fuck me please."

His face appeared above mine then, flushed and eyes sparkling. He kissed me, and I could taste myself on his lips. I was past the point of words so I just thrust my pelvis impatiently against the hard rod of his arousal. 

"I love you, you know," he gusted into my ear, hot moist breath teasing me mercilessly.

I just nodded, desperate with need, and pushed myself against him more urgently.

His next breath was shaky. "You still on the pill?"

How incredibly sweet. For a moment I was roused from the haze of desire to kiss his stubbled cheek – most guys wouldn't even ask. "Yes," I whispered.

With that Stephen's last shred of control evaporated and he ground into me with a groan. The pressure was intense, rough, and almost painfully pleasurable. My hands scrabbled at the hard bones of his hips as I yanked his boxers off and he pulled off his t-shirt. Where were his pants? I didn't even care, as long as they were off.

His thick manhood sprang free from the elastic as I pulled, surrounded by a neatly trimmed sprinkling of dark hair, and I sighed in joy. My hand was on him then, wrapped around that stiff rod – like silk wrapped steel – and his breath hitched when I started to stroke.

"Oh God," he choked out. The head of his cock bumped against my core then, hot and urgent, and I released my grip on him to grab a handful of the sheets.

"Ohhh," I groaned, as his tip parted my center and moved slowly inward. It seemed like he was trying to go gently and take his time but I just couldn't take it – I was dripping with need and I thrust upward onto him, feeling his cock slide fully into me. I cried out then, overwhelmed with the feeling of fullness, and he gasped and then we were moving together, his weight slamming into my clit on each downward stroke.

Sensation exploded within me and I panted desperately, teetering on the edge through one thrust, two, and then suddenly tipped past the point of no return. I cried out his name, keening it long and slow as everything froze in one endless moment of intense pleasure, and then I was spasming around him, grunting with each ripple that passed through me.

I felt Stephen's abdomen stiffen then, tensing, and knew he was cumming as well. Overjoyed, I pressed up against him, trying to show him just how much it meant to me to be sharing this moment. He collapsed on me, damp and sweaty and mine, and I murmured a sweet little nonsense noise at him in happiness.

My eyes drifted shut for a moment until he moved again, slowly slipping out of me and falling to my side. His whole body pressed against my back and his arm wrapped around my chest, pulling me tight to him, all safe and secure.

"Thank you," I murmured sleepily.

He just mumbled back at me wordlessly, but I knew he meant the same.

"I love you," I sighed out.

"Love you, Rachel," Stephen whispered somewhere near my ear.

I let my eyes close tightly then, laying there with the late afternoon sunlight warming my face and the smell of Stephen's skin surrounding me, and as I drifted slowly into sleep, I felt utterly complete.

The end.


Thanks so much for reading (and enjoying ;) ) all you lovely people. If you can't get enough of Rachel and Stephen, the good news is a spicier sequel is in the works, and I will be posting those chapters here as I write as well.