Night 3: Just a Taste

This is part of The Noughty Nest: A Sultry Escapes Series. Start with Night 1 for the full experience.

Night 3: Just a Taste

I've only sucked his tongue.

Felt the way he moaned when I pulled it--like the tip of his cock.

But everything else?

Only imagined.

How he'd lick.

How he'd suck.

How his mouth might find my clit and never leave it alone.

I haven't had his mouth between my legs.

Yet.

But I've thought about it so often...

I swear my body thinks it's already happened.

It was risky.

Too risky.

Camila had already stirred once last night.

And the moment I slipped back into bed--flush from Marko's kisses, lips still tasting like him--

She turned over and whispered, "You okay?"

I lied.

"Yeah... just needed water."

But my throat wasn't dry.

My whole body was.

Until he touched me.

After tonight, we both knew--this can't happen in shared space.

"I don't want your friend to feel disrespected," Marko said quietly.

"And I don't want to share you with silence."

He has a roommate too.

Crew quarters. Small. Barely private.

Even worse than ours.

But he'd be off at midnight.

"Let me find a place," he whispered.

"Tomorrow. I'll text you. We'll make time after my shift."

And just like that--we were planning.

Not just another kiss.

Not just another close call.

But an actual place.

An actual night.

Just us.

Because the next time his fingers slip between my thighs?

I want no distractions.

No interruptions.

No reason to stop.

But even with all that said...

We were still trying to figure out where to meet.

Crew quarters--with a sleeping roommate?

That doesn't sound like desire.

That sounds like distraction.

And yet...

I'd still go.

Just for his kiss.

Because I'm already soaked.

Not from his hands.

Not from his mouth.

From watching him.

Tonight, I saw him help a drunk guest--steadying the man with one arm, guiding him back to his room.

But even as he walked away, he looked back at me.

That look?

It kissed me harder than his mouth ever has.

And I stood there--legs clenched, lips dry, panties ruined--wanting him more than ever.

Later, after he returned, he texted:

"Are you okay? I'm off now. Need a shower... do you want to see me?"

My heart pounded.

My panties were already ruined.

I didn't hesitate.

A million times yes.

Not together. We both have roommates.

But the water running down my skin?

It wasn't just a rinse.

It was anticipation.

A silent rehearsal for the moment I finally let him inside me.

And with every drop that slid between my thighs, all I could think was--

"I'll be clean now.

But not for long."

Marko

I haven't even felt her heat yet.

Haven't run my fingers over her folds.

Haven't tasted the slickness I know she's been saving for me.

But in my head?

I've already spread her thighs.

Dragged my tongue along her center.

Sucked the head of her clit like it was mine to keep.

And if she says yes--

Tonight, I'll find a way to take her.

We met again.

Third-floor bathroom.

Same place we first kissed.

He locked the door behind him.

We moved the little décor off the counter, careful not to break or make noise.

Then he kissed me.

Slow. Deep. Like his mouth had been waiting all day.

He lifted me onto the counter, my legs parting as he stepped in.

He kissed down my neck, heat rising between us as he placed my hand on his cock through his pants.

When he reached between my thighs and pulled my panties to the side, I hesitated.

"I'm not shaved," I whispered. "Didn't think this would... actually happen."

He kissed my cheek, his voice smooth.

"Don't worry. I'll just taste. I'll bring you a razor when we go back. And next time... I'll feast."

His fingers dipped into me.

He smeared my wetness across my lips--kissed me like he needed to claim it.

Then did it again... licked his fingers clean.

"Sweetness."

Then he dropped to his knees.

My legs over his shoulders.

My hand in his hair.

"Pull it tighter," he said. "Talk dirty to me."

"What's your fantasy?"

"A threesome."

"I don't like girls," I said. "Would you consider another man?"

"Whatever your fantasy is... I'm in."

Just talking about it--saying things I'd never said out loud--sent another wave over his tongue.

And he lapped it all up.

He rose, his mouth glistening.

I whispered, "Let me taste you."

I stroked him slowly. He was so sensitive, the head tender under my touch, clean and beautiful.

Even water smells better on him.

"This isn't about my pleasure," he said. "Just yours. Just a taste."

He bent me over the counter.

We locked eyes in the mirror.

He slid the tip in--slow, just enough for my body to pulse around him--

And then stopped.

"Not here," he murmured. "Not our first time."

He kissed me. Deep. Certain. Like he'd made a vow.

When the coast was clear, he left first.

Minutes later, there was a soft knock.

A razor--left at my door.

I took it.

Shaved.

Showered.

And once again, the showerhead became my ending.

But next time?

It'll be his tongue.

His fingers.

His cock.

His name in my mouth--until I come undone.