One Plus Two Minus One by Tess Mackenzie Page A

and…?”
    “ Pretty
much. I could still remember how you
felt. How wet you were. How your mouth felt.”
    She lay there
for a while and looked up at him, and decided it was hot, not
creepy. It was fucking hot to be wanted
that much.
    “ Um,” she
said. “Yes. Don’t ask me shit like that,
because it’s rude, but if you must know, yes.”
    “How much?”
    “A bit.”
    He kept looking at her.
    “ Shit,” she
said. “Most days.”
    They looked at each other and she was
suddenly breathlessly turned on.
    “After lectures?” he said.
    “ When I got
home. On Thursday I think,
yeah.”
    “Straight after?”
    “A bit after.”
    “So while I was at home, thinking about you,
you were at home thinking about me.”
    “ Oh shit,”
she said. “Oh shit, fuck me.”
    He fumbled
around with the condom while she bit her lip and made herself
wait. She wanted to scream, or snatch it
away from him and do it herself, but she stayed still. He got it in
the end, and slid on top of her, and she grabbed his cock and
pulled it inside herself. Pulled this hard solid thing inside
herself, and couldn’t think or breathe for a moment as it went
in.
    She’d had it
before, but this was different. She had
time, and was in her bed, and he wasn’t hurrying now. She’d never
quite got the hang of comparisons, could feel a difference when
they were inside her, but couldn’t remember one against the next to
look at. Ethan was about as long as her hand, and as thick as her
fingers would go around, and that was perfect, more than enough. He
was fucking her wildly again, enthusiasm rather than finesse, and
she left her hand between them, her fingertips steering him back
inside when he slipped.
    He fucked her until she couldn’t think.
    He watched her, and told her she was hot, and
told her he loved her body, that he wanted to watch her come.
    “ Soon,” she
said. “When I do.”
    He said he
couldn’t believe he was doing his professor, and Beth glared at
him. “Don’t say that,” she said. “Fucking
seriously.”
    “Sorry,” he said.
    She was
too. “Just don’t,” she said. “Fuck
me.”
    He turned her
over and did her doggy, and filled her. She’d forgotten sex could be like this. He was pushing into
her hard, bumping her up the bed. She had to grab the bed-head and
hold on to keep her balance. She was close. Closer because she was
face-down, not being stared at and she didn’t want him seeing her
orgasm face. Closer because he was behind her and she kept fucking
him like that. He was trying to grab her clit from behind, getting
tangled, messing up his timing.
    “ No,” she
said, and pushed his hand away. Pressed
on it herself. After a minute, wondering why she said it. “Hold my
wrist.”
    He did, and
she came. She must have been closer than
she realized. She came, a long, breathless, gaspy orgasm, and
worried as she finished that she’d been louder, more
whorey-sounding, than she’d meant to.
    “ Yeah?” he
said. Gasped.
    “ Yep,” she
said. “Go.”
    He must have
been holding back. He shifted, went
faster. She put her face down, leaned on her arm. She could see his
face in the mirror, under her other arm. He was staring down at
her, watching her. Watching his cock go into her, maybe. Or just
watching her back, the back of her head. She couldn’t quite work
that one out, then she did. He was watching like he couldn’t
believe he was inside her. Like he had a crush, and wanted this,
and he couldn’t believe he’d got it.
    She liked
that. She was starting to trust him, to
believe he meant everything he said. She knelt there and watched
his face. She could feel when he did, inside herself, but she could
see it on his face too, when he closed his eyes and stopped moving
for a second, and opened his mouth, and was done.
    He lay down
on her back, so she slowly tipped forward. Lay on her and hugged her and kissed the back of her head.
She was hot. Her skin was sweaty. She couldn’t breath properly
underneath