Midnight Lunch: An Erotic Story about Microwave Omelets
she
responds, which movement makes her breath catch. Sucking made her
groan, so I suck on the other nipple and massage the first with my
fingertips. I suck harder and her stomach jumps. I reach down,
quickly, and stroke my hand firmly up her pussy. She makes the
sound I’m searching for. An open-mouthed moan that judders out,
breath fighting with sensation. I do it again, sucking hard and
stroking her. Maria twists and stretches under me. She lifts her
chest closer to me and pushes her hips down into my touch. I keep
going. The cardinal rule of sex with a girl: when you’ve found
something she likes, don’t stop doing it. Just keep going and
going. Do it for as long as you can. Until she tells you to
stop.
    Maria gets louder and her body keeps coming
apart in my hands. I move back and forth between her nipples,
pulling those dark circles into my mouth. I alternate between
pressing my hand flat against her to rub firm, slow circles into
her clit with my palm, and drawing my fingertips up the length of
her. I can feel my middle finger parting her labia and pressing
just inside. Stroke, stroke, stroke, I can feel the wetness in the
fabric seeping through.
    The best thing about fucking girls is that
it’s not obvious when exactly you begin to fuck. Is it when you
first touch her through her clothes? When your tongue touches her
clit? What about when you’re kissing her labia? What about her
thigh? Is it when you put your fingers in? If you even get that
far, if she even wants that. Or is it as soon as she’s naked in bed
with you? There’s no clear start. You just start fucking somehow,
trip into each other’s arms, and slide downhill into ecstasy.
    Maria is huffing, breathing heavy. Her sounds
are growing higher and clearer. I push back quickly, pull her
underwear aside, and lick up the length of her pussy. I want to
surprise her, to get her worked up with my hands then catch her
breathless with the crisp pleasure a tongue can give.
    It works. She makes the most incredible
noise. If my roommates weren’t awake already they probably are now.
I pull back and slow down. Her inner labia show just a little
between the outer, like four lips in a row. The inner pair are dark
purple and textured, with a thin, clear strand of wetness reaching
out from between them, stretched to a long, wet line in her
underwear.
    I settle my face against her and drag my
closed mouth up her labia, wetting my lips. I use my tongue as
lightly as I can, making her nerves reach for the sensation. It’s
easy to overwhelm a girl, particularly the first time you go down
on her. Turning her on and helping her relax enough to enjoy it
aren’t the same thing, and sometimes everything is so taught you
can only do one or the other. I try to ease Maria back from that
gasping point, where all her muscles are braced but the sensation
is still strong enough to force her breath.
    I wet every crease, pushing my tongue between
her lips just enough to separate each pair. I return to the center
and push the tip of my pointed tongue inside of her. It’s not deep
enough to feel like penetration, but enough for her to feel the
spread. She’s salty and slick. I groan with the tang at the back of
my tongue. I pulse in and out slow, going a little deeper each
time.
    I settle my hands on her hips and squeeze.
Now I’m swimming in it, her smell, her taste, the way the skin on
her mound is nearly white under that dark hair. Something heady and
urgent spikes behind my ears; now we’re fucking. Now I’m inside
her.
    I look up to see her looking down at me,
slack-jawed with lidded eyes. She closes her mouth and bites her
lip with a little smile. I want to say, ‘don’t worry about what you
look like,’ but my mouth is busy. I reach up and tug on her bottom
lip until she opens her mouth again.
    Maria laughs, breathy and soft. She licks the
corner of her mouth playfully. I make a muffled noise against her
and peak my eyebrows in the center, to say, ‘more like that, put

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