Sweeter than Anything
Sweeter than Anything
Pairing: Jessica / Yuri
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Not real. I wrote this as sort of a sequel to Only Your Kisses, but this can really be read on its own.
The dorm is quiet and empty, a scene that has become the norm since our popularity skyrocketed. It would not be weird if the house were empty for a few days at once; some of us don't even live here anymore. Everything is just the way it was when I moved out, most likely because everyone has become too busy to change anything in here. The hallway leading to the lounge feels stuffy, although it is unexposed to direct sunlight. In the lounge, the afternoon sun streaks in from the large windows, unshielded by the curtains drawn neatly to the sides.
I pour myself a glass of water at the kitchen counter and finish it in one swig, the cool liquid soothing my parched throat. I am unsure of what to do next; I feel like a intruder since I haven't been in the dorm for a long time. As if on autopilot, I walk into the room that Yoona and Yuri share. Perhaps I can find something that explains what Yuri called me over for. Her bed stands at the end of the room, unmade, with an assortment of t-shirts strewn all over it.
Seriously, how hard is it for this girl to decide between five boyfriend t-shirts? They are all grey in color too, albeit in different shades and they have small variations in design. She's only getting dressed for school today anyway. I know that because she has been neglecting me to study for an exam that she had to sit for this morning. I sweep her clothes aside and slump onto her bed.
Covering my face with one of her pillows, I sniff the combined scents of her shampoo, soap and body lotion. My mind rewinds to that spring night a couple of months ago; the night when we had last fucked properly. I can still remember her little whimpers when I refused to give her what she wanted right away. That night was almost perfect; I say 'almost perfect', because I had woken up next to an empty spot in my bed, the crumpled up lines she left behind on my sheets mocking my neediness. I just want to fuck an entire night, on a nice soft bed, cuddle to sleep afterwards, have pancakes in bed the morning after, followed by a hot shower, every few days or so. Is that too much for a girl to ask?
It is, apparently, because our time together since that night has been reduced to cheap fifteen-minute thrills. Quick fucks in random bathrooms, because we have to get it done before the filthiness of doing something like that in a bathroom gets to our heads. Quick fucks in cars, mainly mine, because that girl is too busy to even shop for a car. Quick fucks in her dorm room, because she is still sharing it with Yoona. Quick fucks in my own room, because my parents and Krystal are rarely out of the house simultaneously.
All these thoughts about sex make me feel warmer, and neither the sultry air in the room nor the scent of Yuri on her pillow helps to cool my temperature. I make my way into the kitchen again. An icy blast of air welcomes me when I open the freezer compartment of the refrigerator, and I scan the contents of the freezer for a few seconds before I spot a popsicle tray sitting inconspicuously in the corner. I push a few packages of frozen sausages aside to retrieve the tray.
Homemade ice pops, flat and rounded at the bottom, with blue plastic sticks. I assume that they are strawberry-flavored, or at least some sort of berry mix, because of their striking red color. I contemplate between the popsicle tray and the freezer for a few moments; I just know either Sooyoung or Yoona will have stashed a couple of their favorite chocolate-coated vanilla ice cream bars for their midnight food cravings, but I'm feeling too hot to bother looking for them.
I draw a popsicle out, hoping they were made recently and not some forgotten experiment from months ago, before returning the tray to the freezer. Plopping onto an armchair by the window, I look at the view of the park outside our dorms as I sample the popsicle cautiously, only letting my tongue brush against the top lightly. I silently thank whoever it was that made the frozen treat; the sweetness of the strawberries is a heavenly match with the hint of lemony zest.
The jangle of keys unlocking the door snaps me out of the reverie that I had sunken into from the summer heat and the cold dessert. I turn my head back and see a voluptuous figure walking in from the hall, dropping her leather satchel on the floor by the dining table. She plunks her butt on the couch, and leaning back to rest her head, she lets out a soft sigh.
Yuri is dressed in a red and navy blue plaid shirt, tied at the ends to reveal a tiny strip of her navel, just enough skin shown to make hearts skip a beat when it's noticed. Her shorts, ripped at the pockets and hem, are of the light denim variety, which contrasted with her lightly tanned skin. I focus on a bead of perspiration, rolling down from the center of her collarbone, into the deep valley of her bosom. I look up and catch her eyes; her lips curve in a knowing smirk.
"Hey, Sica," she says, arranging her hair into a bunch onto her right shoulder so that I am granted a better view of her chest. "It's so hot today, isn't it?"
"Mmm," I reply. Two can play this game; I move my body so that I am facing her directly, and hang my legs over the arm of the chair to dangle them freely. I watch at her as I swirl my tongue on the rounded tip, and slide up tongue up from the bottom, of the ice pop. "But I'm so lucky I found this in the freezer."
My actions must have worked because Yuri shifts around in the sofa uncomfortably, brushing her hair onto her left shoulder, and wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. I waste no time in exploiting this moment of weakness in her. "Yuri, are you alright? Is it getting too hot in here?"
"Y-yeah," she lifts her shirt, making it puff up, and flaps her hand at her neck, as if the flapping would make the air around her any cooler. I continue licking the popsicle, making sure she can see the whole of my tongue in action. She stops fanning herself and drops her hand on her thigh. She looks away from me abruptly, but that only makes the protrusion of her throat, formed by gulping, even more obvious to me.
"Yuri-yah," I call out to her. She faces me again with an expression so guilty I can barely keep myself from gloating at how she's totally falling for my teases. "Why don't you take those clothes off? You look awfully warm in those."
She gulps again, this time I swear I can hear it too, and begins undoing the buttons of her shirt. I chuckle loudly, which stops her in her act. "You're in the lounge, Yuri! Change in your room!"
Like a soldier following a command, she rises swiftly from the couch, retrieves her bag by the dining table, and marches stiffly into her room. I watch her as I eat my popsicle, at the same time, suppressing my urge to giggle at her awkward movements.
After making another trip to the refrigerator hastily, I walk into her room, licking the thin layer of white frost off a fresh popsicle. Yuri is already lying on her bed, with a forearm over her eyes, wearing nothing but a pair of black cotton boy shorts. I suppose she really is feeling the heat. I stand at the foot of her bed and ask, "Feeling better, babe?"
"Yeah, a little," she mumbles, not moving to cover herself up.
"Here, I got a popsicle for you," I say, extending my right hand towards her. She looks up at me and raises her arm to take it, but I draw my hand back. She furrows her eyebrows and her mouth forms a pout. Her expression becomes confused when I laugh. "Move in, I wanna get on the bed too," I say, not offering her an explanation.
Yuri remains supine and wiggles up the bed until her head rests on a pillow. I slap her legs lightly with my left hand and they spread apart, creating space for me to kneel between them. She bends her knees, so her legs now flank the sides of my waist.
Putting my left forearm over her shoulder, I hover over her and give the popsicle a long lick before putting it on her lips. When she opens her mouth, I pull away, leaving her craning her neck. Her head falls back onto the pillow and I place the popsicle on her lips again, only this time, I insert it into her mouth as she opens it. I slowly thrust the popsicle in and out of her mouth as she sucks the melting ice, and I keep from shoving too deeply.
"Feeling better now?" I ask, ceasing the thrusts but leaving the popsicle in place. She manages to mumble a word of approval and swallows the liquid collected in her mouth. Hitching the popsicle out, I use it to paint a straight and slick trail down her chest, her abdomen, and stop just above the edge of her underwear. I lean over her, supporting myself with my left arm. Her torso heaves as I follow the sticky trail using my tongue, going upwards from down, and ending the journey with a quick peck on her lips, I return to my upright position again.
Yuri looks at me motionlessly, as if waiting for my next move, but I remain still, only licking the popsicle to keep it from dripping on her bed sheets. She takes a few seconds before understanding my intentions, and with the skill of a yoga master that she is, she stretches her legs upwards to remove her underwear, before replacing them in their original position and flashing me an arrogant smile.
The sight of Yuri, in all her naked glory, lying coyly on her bed reminds me of that night again: of the way she had laid in my bed and given me commands, of the desperation she made me feel, of how much I wanted her, and of the times we spent together since then that always left me wanting for more. An idea pops in my head and I know just how to make her want me equally bad.
"Yuri, I think there's somewhere else on your body that's feeling unbearably hot too, no?" She nods, and reaches for the popsicle in my hand, wanting to finish it for me. I know then, what she is expecting me to do next. But I haven't nearly teased her enough yet.
I hold the popsicle in my mouth to free both of my hands, and the chill of the ice spreads on my lips. Lifting from the back of her knees, I push her thighs back to fully expose the glistening flesh at the center of her pelvis. A drop of the melting popsicle drips onto her folds, causing her to twitch slightly. She looks at me intently and I smile back; I know what I'm doing next is not anything she is anticipating. I remove the popsicle from my mouth and lick the melting drops off. The popsicle is now half its original size; just the right length that I need.
I let the ice pop rest on the bony bump of her mound before grabbing her hip with my left hand. When I slide the popsicle down to her clit, she jolts back, letting out a cry at the same time, but my hand stops her from moving too far away. I apply more pressure on her hip to keep her steady as I trace the length of her slit with the popsicle.
"Sica!" My name comes out as a long, loud groan when I twist the popsicle around the entrance of her core. Her light pink bed sheets are crumpled by the grip of her hands. "It's cold!" Her breaths are loud and short as she tries to get accustomed to the chill of the popsicle sliding and twisting on her slit. She cannot avoid it; I have my hand clamped down on her hip and I feel every jerk of her body each time the cold ice touches her clit.
"But now you're really feeling better, right?" I ask. She nods energetically this time, obviously unable to bear any more of the torturous chill. There is only a quarter piece of ice left and I finish it in a single bite, tossing the plastic stick away. I grab her wrists and pin then to either side of her head easily. Her lack of resistance makes me worry that I might have gone too far, but when she tries to catch my lips with her own as I bend down to kiss the tip of her nose, I know she's still a couple more teases away from her limit. Denying her mouth, I move on to her neck, raising colors that have long faded since that night.
Yuri's nipple tightens as soon as I put my lips around it, probably because of my mouth, made cold from the last bits of the strawberry popsicle that I had finished hastily. The cry she lets out as I close my lips on the bud confirms my theory. I give it a few licks, and it is completely raised. I move on to the other, rolling the one that I just licked between the pads of my thumb and forefinger. After both of her nipples are satisfactorily erect, I pull them as I rise away from her body.
"Ah, fuck!" She shouts, heaving her chest. When she starts swearing, it tells me she is getting really wet down there. I press my fingers on her pussy, and the wetness that coats around them cannot possibly have all been from the popsicle. I swipe my index and middle fingers in one swift motion up her slit and stick them into my mouth, sucking the moisture off my fingers as I pull them out again. There are two distinct flavors that I can taste: strawberry and Yuri.
"Yum," I say as I replace my fingers on her clit, pressing it, then rubbing it, and pressing it again. "You taste good, Yuri."
"Sica," the movements of my fingers on her clit hampers her speech and she can only manage to say two syllables at a time. "I want..."
"You want a taste of it too?" I ask, knowing exactly what she wants, but I don't want to give it to her yet. My fingers make a slow, deliberate stroke and I ram them into her mouth, touching her tongue. She ignores my fingers defiantly so I move them over her tongue myself. Pushing her lower jaw down with my fingers, I kiss her roughly, invading her open mouth with my tongue. She tries to take over but I pin her shoulders down and kiss her even harder, relishing the domination that I have over her.
Yuri grabs my forearms, trying to weaken my grip. But I maintain my stance by joining my elbows to the bed. My hands cup her breasts, and I squeeze them as I leave a trail of kisses down her torso, making my way down to the center of her hips. There, I graze my teeth at the hood of her clit, causing her to buck her hips and say, "Please, Sica, don't tease me any more."
"Wow, Yuri, you used some manners this time," I chuckle, looking up at her face, her desperate expression telling me I should comply with her request. My tongue slips down to find the thin muscle of her entrance and flicks at it, earning me a few piercing cries. I hook my forearms over her thighs to keep her bucking hips in control. I keep flitting my tongue until her cries subside, then I penetrate her, making her hands fly to my head and clutch clumps of my hair. The movements of my tongue, going in and out of her, is synchronized with the movements of her hands relaxing and clenching my hair and a series of moans louder than the last. My own clit is throbbing and I fumble as I try to remove my bottoms while keeping my face between her legs. When I finally get my shorts off, my hand rubs my clit frenziedly; the relief distracts me and I let my mouth break its contact with her pussy.
"Sica, fuck, I need you!" She screams, her hands mashing my face on her pussy. Her violent gesture does not offend me but her needy demand provokes me to suck on her clit furiously. My hand rubs my own clit with a fury that matches the maneuvers of my mouth.
Yuri screams something that sounds like ‘I'm coming’ but I'm not sure because my mind blanks out right after I feel a spurt of liquid gushing into my mouth. My hand slows down its rubbing as my orgasm wears out. I find myself lying on my abdomen, my own legs having gone soft from my climax. I seem to have recovered faster, because Yuri still has her fingers entwined with my hair and her ejaculation dribbling into my mouth. I penetrate her with my tongue again to feel her entrance contracting and relaxing around my tongue; the convulsions of her inner walls are felt as tremors on my lips.
I lick her clean after the last spurt of her ejaculation. Sitting up, I wipe the dribble off my chin and move over her legs to straddle her hips. I put the middle and ring fingers of my right hand, wet with my own ejaculation, on her lips. She parts her lips to admit them into her mouth. "What do I taste like?"
"Sweet," she says, holding my wrist and licking every inch of my fingers. "Sweeter than anything I've tasted, sweeter than anything I'll ever taste."
"Remember the taste, Yuri," I tell her coldly. "Remember it because it is the taste of all the orgasms that you didn't give me."
"Sica, I'm sorry," she says, tugging me down and I land on top of her. I move to lie on my side and let my head lie on the nook between her neck and shoulder. She runs her fingers through my hair sticking to the back of my damp neck. "I can't help it, if it isn't work, it's school."
I remain silent while I use my index finger to draw random shapes on her skin, which is shiny with sweat. I know I cannot be angry with her; I should understand since we are both doing the same job, and we are both the same. She kisses my forehead and a few moments of contemplation pass between us.
"Did you enjoy those popsicles, Sica?" I hear her chuckle. It sounds deep and amplified because my left ear is pressed on her neck. "You used them so well."
A sudden wave of comprehension hits me and I prop myself up to look at her. "I made them," she says, grinning widely. She has been manipulating me into doing what she wanted all afternoon; getting me to come to the dorm when the sun is scorching, the curtains drawn up to make the entire dorm warm, the suspicious popsicles in the freezer, and the gulping, the dramatic gulping! I yank a pillow that Yuri is resting on by its corners and swing it at her abdomen, yelling:
"I'll get back at you for this, Yuri!"
Pairing: Jessica / Yuri
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Not real. I wrote this as sort of a sequel to Only Your Kisses, but this can really be read on its own.
The dorm is quiet and empty, a scene that has become the norm since our popularity skyrocketed. It would not be weird if the house were empty for a few days at once; some of us don't even live here anymore. Everything is just the way it was when I moved out, most likely because everyone has become too busy to change anything in here. The hallway leading to the lounge feels stuffy, although it is unexposed to direct sunlight. In the lounge, the afternoon sun streaks in from the large windows, unshielded by the curtains drawn neatly to the sides.
I pour myself a glass of water at the kitchen counter and finish it in one swig, the cool liquid soothing my parched throat. I am unsure of what to do next; I feel like a intruder since I haven't been in the dorm for a long time. As if on autopilot, I walk into the room that Yoona and Yuri share. Perhaps I can find something that explains what Yuri called me over for. Her bed stands at the end of the room, unmade, with an assortment of t-shirts strewn all over it.
Seriously, how hard is it for this girl to decide between five boyfriend t-shirts? They are all grey in color too, albeit in different shades and they have small variations in design. She's only getting dressed for school today anyway. I know that because she has been neglecting me to study for an exam that she had to sit for this morning. I sweep her clothes aside and slump onto her bed.
Covering my face with one of her pillows, I sniff the combined scents of her shampoo, soap and body lotion. My mind rewinds to that spring night a couple of months ago; the night when we had last fucked properly. I can still remember her little whimpers when I refused to give her what she wanted right away. That night was almost perfect; I say 'almost perfect', because I had woken up next to an empty spot in my bed, the crumpled up lines she left behind on my sheets mocking my neediness. I just want to fuck an entire night, on a nice soft bed, cuddle to sleep afterwards, have pancakes in bed the morning after, followed by a hot shower, every few days or so. Is that too much for a girl to ask?
It is, apparently, because our time together since that night has been reduced to cheap fifteen-minute thrills. Quick fucks in random bathrooms, because we have to get it done before the filthiness of doing something like that in a bathroom gets to our heads. Quick fucks in cars, mainly mine, because that girl is too busy to even shop for a car. Quick fucks in her dorm room, because she is still sharing it with Yoona. Quick fucks in my own room, because my parents and Krystal are rarely out of the house simultaneously.
All these thoughts about sex make me feel warmer, and neither the sultry air in the room nor the scent of Yuri on her pillow helps to cool my temperature. I make my way into the kitchen again. An icy blast of air welcomes me when I open the freezer compartment of the refrigerator, and I scan the contents of the freezer for a few seconds before I spot a popsicle tray sitting inconspicuously in the corner. I push a few packages of frozen sausages aside to retrieve the tray.
Homemade ice pops, flat and rounded at the bottom, with blue plastic sticks. I assume that they are strawberry-flavored, or at least some sort of berry mix, because of their striking red color. I contemplate between the popsicle tray and the freezer for a few moments; I just know either Sooyoung or Yoona will have stashed a couple of their favorite chocolate-coated vanilla ice cream bars for their midnight food cravings, but I'm feeling too hot to bother looking for them.
I draw a popsicle out, hoping they were made recently and not some forgotten experiment from months ago, before returning the tray to the freezer. Plopping onto an armchair by the window, I look at the view of the park outside our dorms as I sample the popsicle cautiously, only letting my tongue brush against the top lightly. I silently thank whoever it was that made the frozen treat; the sweetness of the strawberries is a heavenly match with the hint of lemony zest.
The jangle of keys unlocking the door snaps me out of the reverie that I had sunken into from the summer heat and the cold dessert. I turn my head back and see a voluptuous figure walking in from the hall, dropping her leather satchel on the floor by the dining table. She plunks her butt on the couch, and leaning back to rest her head, she lets out a soft sigh.
Yuri is dressed in a red and navy blue plaid shirt, tied at the ends to reveal a tiny strip of her navel, just enough skin shown to make hearts skip a beat when it's noticed. Her shorts, ripped at the pockets and hem, are of the light denim variety, which contrasted with her lightly tanned skin. I focus on a bead of perspiration, rolling down from the center of her collarbone, into the deep valley of her bosom. I look up and catch her eyes; her lips curve in a knowing smirk.
"Hey, Sica," she says, arranging her hair into a bunch onto her right shoulder so that I am granted a better view of her chest. "It's so hot today, isn't it?"
"Mmm," I reply. Two can play this game; I move my body so that I am facing her directly, and hang my legs over the arm of the chair to dangle them freely. I watch at her as I swirl my tongue on the rounded tip, and slide up tongue up from the bottom, of the ice pop. "But I'm so lucky I found this in the freezer."
My actions must have worked because Yuri shifts around in the sofa uncomfortably, brushing her hair onto her left shoulder, and wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. I waste no time in exploiting this moment of weakness in her. "Yuri, are you alright? Is it getting too hot in here?"
"Y-yeah," she lifts her shirt, making it puff up, and flaps her hand at her neck, as if the flapping would make the air around her any cooler. I continue licking the popsicle, making sure she can see the whole of my tongue in action. She stops fanning herself and drops her hand on her thigh. She looks away from me abruptly, but that only makes the protrusion of her throat, formed by gulping, even more obvious to me.
"Yuri-yah," I call out to her. She faces me again with an expression so guilty I can barely keep myself from gloating at how she's totally falling for my teases. "Why don't you take those clothes off? You look awfully warm in those."
She gulps again, this time I swear I can hear it too, and begins undoing the buttons of her shirt. I chuckle loudly, which stops her in her act. "You're in the lounge, Yuri! Change in your room!"
Like a soldier following a command, she rises swiftly from the couch, retrieves her bag by the dining table, and marches stiffly into her room. I watch her as I eat my popsicle, at the same time, suppressing my urge to giggle at her awkward movements.
After making another trip to the refrigerator hastily, I walk into her room, licking the thin layer of white frost off a fresh popsicle. Yuri is already lying on her bed, with a forearm over her eyes, wearing nothing but a pair of black cotton boy shorts. I suppose she really is feeling the heat. I stand at the foot of her bed and ask, "Feeling better, babe?"
"Yeah, a little," she mumbles, not moving to cover herself up.
"Here, I got a popsicle for you," I say, extending my right hand towards her. She looks up at me and raises her arm to take it, but I draw my hand back. She furrows her eyebrows and her mouth forms a pout. Her expression becomes confused when I laugh. "Move in, I wanna get on the bed too," I say, not offering her an explanation.
Yuri remains supine and wiggles up the bed until her head rests on a pillow. I slap her legs lightly with my left hand and they spread apart, creating space for me to kneel between them. She bends her knees, so her legs now flank the sides of my waist.
Putting my left forearm over her shoulder, I hover over her and give the popsicle a long lick before putting it on her lips. When she opens her mouth, I pull away, leaving her craning her neck. Her head falls back onto the pillow and I place the popsicle on her lips again, only this time, I insert it into her mouth as she opens it. I slowly thrust the popsicle in and out of her mouth as she sucks the melting ice, and I keep from shoving too deeply.
"Feeling better now?" I ask, ceasing the thrusts but leaving the popsicle in place. She manages to mumble a word of approval and swallows the liquid collected in her mouth. Hitching the popsicle out, I use it to paint a straight and slick trail down her chest, her abdomen, and stop just above the edge of her underwear. I lean over her, supporting myself with my left arm. Her torso heaves as I follow the sticky trail using my tongue, going upwards from down, and ending the journey with a quick peck on her lips, I return to my upright position again.
Yuri looks at me motionlessly, as if waiting for my next move, but I remain still, only licking the popsicle to keep it from dripping on her bed sheets. She takes a few seconds before understanding my intentions, and with the skill of a yoga master that she is, she stretches her legs upwards to remove her underwear, before replacing them in their original position and flashing me an arrogant smile.
The sight of Yuri, in all her naked glory, lying coyly on her bed reminds me of that night again: of the way she had laid in my bed and given me commands, of the desperation she made me feel, of how much I wanted her, and of the times we spent together since then that always left me wanting for more. An idea pops in my head and I know just how to make her want me equally bad.
"Yuri, I think there's somewhere else on your body that's feeling unbearably hot too, no?" She nods, and reaches for the popsicle in my hand, wanting to finish it for me. I know then, what she is expecting me to do next. But I haven't nearly teased her enough yet.
I hold the popsicle in my mouth to free both of my hands, and the chill of the ice spreads on my lips. Lifting from the back of her knees, I push her thighs back to fully expose the glistening flesh at the center of her pelvis. A drop of the melting popsicle drips onto her folds, causing her to twitch slightly. She looks at me intently and I smile back; I know what I'm doing next is not anything she is anticipating. I remove the popsicle from my mouth and lick the melting drops off. The popsicle is now half its original size; just the right length that I need.
I let the ice pop rest on the bony bump of her mound before grabbing her hip with my left hand. When I slide the popsicle down to her clit, she jolts back, letting out a cry at the same time, but my hand stops her from moving too far away. I apply more pressure on her hip to keep her steady as I trace the length of her slit with the popsicle.
"Sica!" My name comes out as a long, loud groan when I twist the popsicle around the entrance of her core. Her light pink bed sheets are crumpled by the grip of her hands. "It's cold!" Her breaths are loud and short as she tries to get accustomed to the chill of the popsicle sliding and twisting on her slit. She cannot avoid it; I have my hand clamped down on her hip and I feel every jerk of her body each time the cold ice touches her clit.
"But now you're really feeling better, right?" I ask. She nods energetically this time, obviously unable to bear any more of the torturous chill. There is only a quarter piece of ice left and I finish it in a single bite, tossing the plastic stick away. I grab her wrists and pin then to either side of her head easily. Her lack of resistance makes me worry that I might have gone too far, but when she tries to catch my lips with her own as I bend down to kiss the tip of her nose, I know she's still a couple more teases away from her limit. Denying her mouth, I move on to her neck, raising colors that have long faded since that night.
Yuri's nipple tightens as soon as I put my lips around it, probably because of my mouth, made cold from the last bits of the strawberry popsicle that I had finished hastily. The cry she lets out as I close my lips on the bud confirms my theory. I give it a few licks, and it is completely raised. I move on to the other, rolling the one that I just licked between the pads of my thumb and forefinger. After both of her nipples are satisfactorily erect, I pull them as I rise away from her body.
"Ah, fuck!" She shouts, heaving her chest. When she starts swearing, it tells me she is getting really wet down there. I press my fingers on her pussy, and the wetness that coats around them cannot possibly have all been from the popsicle. I swipe my index and middle fingers in one swift motion up her slit and stick them into my mouth, sucking the moisture off my fingers as I pull them out again. There are two distinct flavors that I can taste: strawberry and Yuri.
"Yum," I say as I replace my fingers on her clit, pressing it, then rubbing it, and pressing it again. "You taste good, Yuri."
"Sica," the movements of my fingers on her clit hampers her speech and she can only manage to say two syllables at a time. "I want..."
"You want a taste of it too?" I ask, knowing exactly what she wants, but I don't want to give it to her yet. My fingers make a slow, deliberate stroke and I ram them into her mouth, touching her tongue. She ignores my fingers defiantly so I move them over her tongue myself. Pushing her lower jaw down with my fingers, I kiss her roughly, invading her open mouth with my tongue. She tries to take over but I pin her shoulders down and kiss her even harder, relishing the domination that I have over her.
Yuri grabs my forearms, trying to weaken my grip. But I maintain my stance by joining my elbows to the bed. My hands cup her breasts, and I squeeze them as I leave a trail of kisses down her torso, making my way down to the center of her hips. There, I graze my teeth at the hood of her clit, causing her to buck her hips and say, "Please, Sica, don't tease me any more."
"Wow, Yuri, you used some manners this time," I chuckle, looking up at her face, her desperate expression telling me I should comply with her request. My tongue slips down to find the thin muscle of her entrance and flicks at it, earning me a few piercing cries. I hook my forearms over her thighs to keep her bucking hips in control. I keep flitting my tongue until her cries subside, then I penetrate her, making her hands fly to my head and clutch clumps of my hair. The movements of my tongue, going in and out of her, is synchronized with the movements of her hands relaxing and clenching my hair and a series of moans louder than the last. My own clit is throbbing and I fumble as I try to remove my bottoms while keeping my face between her legs. When I finally get my shorts off, my hand rubs my clit frenziedly; the relief distracts me and I let my mouth break its contact with her pussy.
"Sica, fuck, I need you!" She screams, her hands mashing my face on her pussy. Her violent gesture does not offend me but her needy demand provokes me to suck on her clit furiously. My hand rubs my own clit with a fury that matches the maneuvers of my mouth.
Yuri screams something that sounds like ‘I'm coming’ but I'm not sure because my mind blanks out right after I feel a spurt of liquid gushing into my mouth. My hand slows down its rubbing as my orgasm wears out. I find myself lying on my abdomen, my own legs having gone soft from my climax. I seem to have recovered faster, because Yuri still has her fingers entwined with my hair and her ejaculation dribbling into my mouth. I penetrate her with my tongue again to feel her entrance contracting and relaxing around my tongue; the convulsions of her inner walls are felt as tremors on my lips.
I lick her clean after the last spurt of her ejaculation. Sitting up, I wipe the dribble off my chin and move over her legs to straddle her hips. I put the middle and ring fingers of my right hand, wet with my own ejaculation, on her lips. She parts her lips to admit them into her mouth. "What do I taste like?"
"Sweet," she says, holding my wrist and licking every inch of my fingers. "Sweeter than anything I've tasted, sweeter than anything I'll ever taste."
"Remember the taste, Yuri," I tell her coldly. "Remember it because it is the taste of all the orgasms that you didn't give me."
"Sica, I'm sorry," she says, tugging me down and I land on top of her. I move to lie on my side and let my head lie on the nook between her neck and shoulder. She runs her fingers through my hair sticking to the back of my damp neck. "I can't help it, if it isn't work, it's school."
I remain silent while I use my index finger to draw random shapes on her skin, which is shiny with sweat. I know I cannot be angry with her; I should understand since we are both doing the same job, and we are both the same. She kisses my forehead and a few moments of contemplation pass between us.
"Did you enjoy those popsicles, Sica?" I hear her chuckle. It sounds deep and amplified because my left ear is pressed on her neck. "You used them so well."
A sudden wave of comprehension hits me and I prop myself up to look at her. "I made them," she says, grinning widely. She has been manipulating me into doing what she wanted all afternoon; getting me to come to the dorm when the sun is scorching, the curtains drawn up to make the entire dorm warm, the suspicious popsicles in the freezer, and the gulping, the dramatic gulping! I yank a pillow that Yuri is resting on by its corners and swing it at her abdomen, yelling:
"I'll get back at you for this, Yuri!"