My heart is thundering in my chest as I make my way back to my hotel room. My ears are ringing and my throat is sore and for the millionth time I think why the hell did I wait so long to go to one of these concerts.
He had begged me to go tonight. He’d taken my hands in his and listened as I gave him excuse after excuse not to go. My thesis, I was tired, I had to get his next lesson ready, and he stood there, nodding along and when I was finished he leaned in and kissed me, tongue sliding in slowly, giving me a little taste before pulling back. Then he sighed and cocked his head to one side, blue eyes sparking as he said please. The smile that exploded onto his features when I reluctantly agreed was enough to dazzle me into actually being on time.
Once I got over the initial lameless of it all and really just concentrated on him, the way he moved, the sound of his voice, I was entranced. I was fucking mesmerized by him. The way he could stand in the middle of that stage, just stand there, a smoldering look on his face, so much like the one he gives me when he’s ready to rip my clothes off and I’m taking too long to let him, and the crowd just screams for him, the way I scream for him when he does it just right.
My body is still tingling from it all as I fall back onto my bed and wait… wait for him to get back from the arena, wait to throw him down on this bed and tear his clothes off. My eyes flick to the clock and it reads 10:47. He should be back any minute. I wonder briefly if I have time to shave my legs. I want this to be fucking fantastic. I decide against it because seriously, he’ll be here any second now and I don’t want him coming in then having to wait. I don’t want to wait one second.
The phone rings and I reach for it, sighing slightly as I answer. My stomach tightens when I hear his voice.
“I’m gonna be a little longer than I thought,” he says, his voice low and soft and I know he can’t really talk, voices chattering in the background.
“Justin,” I whine, drawing out his name as a flash of heat travels through me, my want for him intensifying to an almost unbearable level.
“I know,” he growls, and I can tell he’s not pleased either. “Lou has us doing this thing in this club. It’s just an appearance. I’ll be there in half an hour, forty-five minutes tops.”
I sigh, my eyes falling closed as the ache between my legs intensifies. I need him right now, not in half an hour.
“Can you do something for me, baby?” he asks and his voice is low, but this time I know it’s not from trying to be unheard. “Will you wait for me in my room?”
“I guess I could do that,” I say, sighing and the line is quiet for a moment.
“Will you wait for me naked?”
I nearly groan out loud. I can tell he’s grinning just from the sound of his voice and I bet he’s chewing on his bottom lip, like he always does when he asks me to do something risqué or sexy.
“Justin…” I say, uneasiness in my voice.
His mother has been known to just go into his room. The mere thought of a scenario in which she walks in to find me naked on her underage son’s bed… Let’s just say jail would be the least of my worries at that point.
“Please, Skylar,” he begs, a slight whine in his voice and I sigh.
“What if your mother-”
“Mom’s with me. She always comes to the aftershow club things we do and she’ll go to her room when I come back. Please Sky.”
“Ugh…” I moan slightly, running a hand over my face. I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. “Alright…”
“Yes!” he hisses quietly and I know he just did a victory dance. I grin at the visual.
“Just hurry, okay?” I say, barely containing the slight whine in my voice.
“Oh trust me,” he says with a snort of laughter. “I’m trying.”
I sigh as I hang up and begin peeling off my clothes slowly, eyeing myself in the mirror on the back of the bathroom door for a moment before pulling on my fluffy hotel robe. I grab a clip, twisting my hair up on my head because he likes taking it down and running his hands through it. I snatch the two room keys off the bedside table – one mine, the other Justin’s – and head down the hall. I’m looking over my shoulder as I slip the key in and let myself into his room.
He has clothes everywhere, CDs piled on the table, a basketball sitting in a chair and I shift awkwardly in the doorway. This room is a testament to its occupant, a seventeen year old boy…who I’m waiting for…naked.
Maybe this has gone on for too long. Maybe I need to just go back to my room and put my clothes on and fall asleep to Leno on TV. I shift again, my thighs slick from the concert earlier and my calves slide against each other, the prickling hairs scratching against my skin. I really need to shave my legs.
The clock on the bedside table says 11:07. Justin should be back in about fifteen minutes. I chew my bottom lip, debating what to do. It will take me ten minutes to shave my legs, one or two to dry off, one or two to get back here, a few to position myself on the bed. It would cut it too close. I sigh, my eyes falling on the bathroom door and I have an idea.
I step inside and look around the counter, searching for his razor. Oh god, what if he doesn’t have a razor? What if he doesn’t need to shave yet? Panic floods me for a moment, the guilt gnawing at my insides but my common sense kicks in, remembering a few times when he would kiss me goodbye in the morning, the soft hairs on his upper lip tickling my cheek. I tug the shower curtain back and find it lying on the soap holder.
I sigh, turning the knobs and water pours from the showerhead. I let my robe fall to the floor, stepping under the spray. I let the water caress over me for a moment before reaching for the small soap wrapped in paper that’s sitting on the side of the tub.
As I begin to shave, my mind wanders back to an hour or so ago. I just can’t get the way he moved out of my head. He was different up there on that stage, less bumbling and shy, his voice always confident and strong. I was amazed at how he could sing and dance on a stage in front of twenty thousand people and not even blink over it, but so often he’s fidgeting and nervous sitting in front of me just analyzing a piece of art.
God, the way he moved, his body seeming to just glide across the stage, hips rolling and shimmying and the crowd fucking loved him. And he took it all in, smiling and laughing and pointing when someone did something he liked. And this thing he did with his mouth, holding the microphone to his lips and shimmying his body, pulsing beats coming through the speakers and I stood amazed, wondering how the hell he did that. He would bend over his shoulders jerking this way and that with the beat his mouth was setting and then tipped back again, a high, almost beeping sound that his twitched his hips in time to. I’d have to ask him about that later…
But his voice! God it gives me chills just thinking about it. His voice caressed those notes like his hands caress my body behind closed doors. And at one point during a song about God spending time on something or other, their shtick seeming to be that Justin refused to end the song, his eyes met mine and he gave me that small smile before cocking his head to the side and bringing the microphone to his mouth and the sound that came out was so…Christ, I can’t even describe it. And he brought his hand above his head, just like the four other men on stage, and he let it fall, his finger pointing at me, a smile tugging at his mouth before looking away and scanning the arena, the crowd going wild.
By the time I’m finish shaving I’m so hot I can barely breathe. I lay his razor back in place and turn the hot water down, the spray instantly chilling my skin, my nipples tightening almost painfully. My eyes close as I run my hand down my neck, in between my breasts and down over my hip, just trying to breathe. God, the shit he does to me and he’s not even here.
My eyes fly open and I nearly scream when I hear the curtain pull back and someone steps in behind me. My body relaxes when I feel Justin’s hand slide around my stomach.
“You know, when I told you to wait for me naked I was just thinking you’d lay across the bed or something,” he chuckles, his breath tickling my ear, “but shit this is so much better.”
I moan a little, leaning back into him and he hugs me close, my hands sliding over his arms, feeling the goose bumps prickling his skin.
“Whew baby…” he says and I feel the shiver shake through him. “Why’s the water so cold?”
He leans down, reaching out to twirl the hot water knob and the water warms instantly and so does my skin because I can feel him pressing into me. I just want to devour him. I spin in his arms and capture his mouth, taking him a little by surprise as I press my body fully against his. He moans into my mouth, his hands sliding down to grip my ass in his hands.
I nibble at his bottom lip, my hands roaming up and down his chest, nails skittering over his abs, feeling his stomach tremble under my fingers. He moans into my mouth as my hands hold his hips, fingers pressing into his skin.
“What’s gotten into you?” he breathes, his mouth wrenching away from mine.
“I saw the show,” I pant breathlessly and he laughs, his head falling back and I take the opportunity to lick at his neck, his laugh melting into a moan.
“Liked it did ya?” he grins, tilting his head back down to look at my face, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.
“Oh yeah,” I tease, a finger trailing down his chest. “Especially that thing you did…with your mouth.”
He cocks an eyebrow at me, looking at me curiously. “My mouth?”
“Yeah,” I say, nuzzling his nose with mine. “It was…” I trail, not even knowing how to make the sounds he made, “it was like drums.”
“What this?” he asks, and presses his lips together and this sound, like nothing I’d ever heard before, comes out.
I nod, mesmerized, my fingers going up to brush his lips, feeling them vibrate before he stops, licking his lips.
“That’s beat boxing,” he says nodding his head assuredly and I smile at him. “It started with Doug E Fresh and Biz Markie in the 80s and-”
“Do it again,” I say softly cutting him off, and he smiles widely at me before licking his lips.
He presses his lips together again, setting a beat that has my heart pulsing, my hips itching to swish. I bring my hand up again to touch his lips, completely intrigued. He pulls back a little laughing.
“It’s hard to do when you press on my mouth, babe,” he grins, licking his lips again and I can’t take it.
My lips crush to his as my hand finds his dick, hard and ready, giving him a slow stroke. His mouth opens against mine in a silent gasp of pleasure as my thumb swipes over the head. He drops his head to my shoulder, whimpering softly as I work him slow, his hands sliding up my back to cup my shoulders. I grip him tighter, the water pouring onto us making my hands slippery as I pepper kisses along his ear.
“St-stop,” he pants softly, his fingers gripping my wrist and tugging my hand away from him.
I pout at him slightly as he pulls his head up, his heavy breath fanning my lips and he kisses me hard, his hands moving around my stomach and down, parting my folds with his long fingers. I reach to grip his shoulders but he’s sliding down to his knees, grinning up at me. He grips my ankle softly, tugging a little and I reach one arm out to steady myself on the tiled wall of the shower as he slips my leg over his shoulder.
“You know,” he whispers, taking my free hand and pressing it to myself, nudging it with his nose and I make a “v” of my fingers for him, receiving a grin in return. “I’ve always kinda wanted to try this.”
I give him a confused look but he just licks his lips before dipping his head and I wait for his tongue to touch me. I moan loudly when I feel his lips vibrate against me, the beat he’s setting slow and deep and I feel my knees tremble. His hand slides slickly up my outer thigh that’s resting on his shoulder, caressing me softly as his lips work between my fingers, vibrating and shivering against my clit. My entire body is trembling and shaking and I whine when he pulls back, smacking his lips as he looks up at me, grinning before dipping his head again..
I let my head fall back and I hiss when I feel his fingers pressing into me, stretching me open and his beat stutters for a moment as he moans.
“Fuck, babe,” he pants, watching his fingers work in and out slowly. “You’re…god you’re soaked.”
My free hand wraps in his hair as he brings his lips to me again, pulsing and vibrating against my clit and I can feel it building in me. My fingers pull from his hair as I reach out to grab onto the shower rod, my knees threatening to give way any second, as the pleasure pulses through me. I moan his name and I feel him growl against me, his beat becoming more furious as his fingers work me harder and I cry out, my body clutching at his fingers, my voice echoing off the tiled walls.
I’m shaking hard as he slides up again and I grip onto his shoulders for support, my eyes still closed. His hands are turning me around slowly and he moves us so I’m under the spray, the water beating soothingly down onto my chest. His fingers come up, and I feel the claw release my hair, sending it tumbling down over my shoulders and he hums softly as it tickles across his chest and neck. He clasps the clip around the shower rod, his arms circling around to hold me, my head laying back on his shoulder as he presses his lips to my temple, humming softly, swaying me slowly.
My skin is tingling and my body is buzzing, feeling him pressed up against me, his arms holding me tight. His hand is pressed flat against my stomach, rubbing slowly in a soothing way, his hips wiggling against me as his lips slide down my neck, sucking the skin softly. I can’t wait anymore. I need him inside me now. I reach out bracing myself on the wall in front of me and lean forward, water cascading down my back, chewing on my lip, waiting.
When nothing happens I glance over my shoulder and find him staring at my ass, his mouth slightly agape. His hands are massaging over the rounded flesh of my bottom, just staring, his tongue snaking out to wet his bottom lip. I giggle a little, biting my lip as I shimmy my hips against him.
“Come on, Jus,” I tease, and his eyes meet mine. “You know how this works.”
He chuckles softly, hands still rolling my flesh, and I feel him press intimately against me. “We’ve never done it this way before,” he pants breathlessly and before I can even respond he nudges in slowly.
I hang my head forward as he pushes completely in, his hands holding my hips steady, a low groan tearing from his throat. I feel him shiver hard, fingernails biting into my skin and I’m panting already.
“Fuck... it’s so…” he gasps lowly, “…tight.”
I grin, licking my lips, bracing myself against the wall as he pulls out slow and slides back in, a low moan rumbling from his chest and I need him to do this. His hands are moving from my hips, slipping wetly up my back, sliding down over my shoulder blades and down, cupping my breasts. He gives a gentle squeeze as he pulls out again sliding back in smoothly, as his hands slick down my stomach and he grips my hips again.
The pace he’s setting is slow but deep and I’m moaning with every stroke, body tingling with pleasure, hands scratching at the tile wall. I’m so into it that I guess I don’t hear the hotel room door open and close. He must be too because the way he’s working me, shit I could just…
“Justin, baby!” his mother’s voice floats in from the other room.
We both freeze and I gasp as I hear the creak of the bathroom door as its pushed open. Justin’s hand moves quickly, covering my mouth to suppress the sound, and my entire body tenses. My entire body. I feel him shiver against me, the hand still on my hip gripping almost painfully.
“Mom…” he pants, his voice slightly strangled. “What…what are you doing in here?”
I’m panicking…completely and utterly falling apart but I’m paralyzed by fear, unable to move. I knew…I knew this would happen. Why didn’t I listen to myself? Why didn’t I listen to Tiny? I’m going to be fired. I’m going to jail! All for what? Some sex? Why…why didn’t I listen! But then I know why when Justin shifts nervously behind me, his dick, still buried deep inside me, nudging that spot and a small strangled sound comes from my throat. His hand tightens over my mouth, his fingers digging into my cheeks hard enough to bruise.
“Just getting your dirty clothes. The show was great tonight, honey. You did a good job,” she says and I hear her rustling around just outside the curtain. This is not happening right now.
“Uh…thanks,” Justin replies, swallowing hard and it feels like he isn’t breathing.
“I know you think you messed up during “You Got It” but I think you’re wrong,” Lynn goes on and this is not happening to me right now.
“Yeah,” he responds shortly and I’m wondering how the hell is he still hard. But he is. The miracle of a teenage boy’s body. I nearly sob at the thought. This is too much right now.
“You know I was talking to Trace’s mother earlier today,” Lynn says and I hate my life. I hate my entire existence. Why didn’t I listen?
Justin hums an uninterested response and I know he’s just trying to get her to shut up. His hips wiggle a little and I bite at his fingers. He can do that right now. He just can’t. I know this has to be torture for him because I’m still tense but, Jesus, he can’t fucking do that right now.
“She had just gotten some film developed and one of the rolls was those pictures of you and Trace in Rachel’s homecoming dresses,” Lynn says, the laughter evident in her voice. “You and that glitter eye shadow. You made a very pretty girl, Justin.” Lynn chuckles to herself.
I’m done. It’s over… wait… what? My brain jams at Lynn’s words. Justin? In a dress? I turn my head, trying to look at him but the grip he has on my face is holding my head steady. My panic slowly begins to ebb as the visual of Justin dressed as a girl floats into my brain. Justin – the kid who does everything in his power to seem as manly as possible at all times – wearing a pretty pink dress. And something happens that can only be explained by blind panic, I get the horrifying urge to laugh.
“Mom!” Justin exclaims and I’m fighting the giggles that are bubbling in my throat. “That… that was a long time ago. We were just playing around,” he adds and I know that is more for me than for her.
“Oh honey, that was just four months ago… remember because Rachel was gonna wear the purple one to the prom and Trace ripped the zipper out,” Lynn corrects and my body is shaking with repressed laughter.
“Yeah well…” Justin trails and I’m pretty sure he’s blushing.
“And you and that PURSE, Justin,” Lynn exclaims laughing. “I swear I have never laughed so hard in my life as when you walked down those stairs in high heels-”
“MOTHER, PLEASE!” Justin exclaims finally, the hand on my hip releasing me and I know he’s covering his face. It is taking every ounce of will power I have not to just fall over laughing, the image of Justin in a pink evening gown playing over and over in my mind.
"Justin…” Lynn trails, and I can hear the discomfort in her voice. “Am…am I interrupting you or something...."
My entire body seizes again and he gasps, his hand coming back down to grab my hip roughly. She knows. She knows I’m in here and she’s going to rip me out of this shower by my hair and kill me. And then… I’ll be sent to prison.
“What?” he asks, panting slightly, his fingers digging hard into my flesh.
There’s an uncomfortable silence and then, her voice soft. “You know...”
Her trailing sentence lingers in the air and it takes me a minute to realize what she’s implying. I don’t know whether to sigh in relief or laugh out loud. Justin’s hand moves from my hip again and I hear the smack of skin on skin as he hits himself in the forehead.
“Oh my god,” he breathes, “NO, MOM…god…”
“Because that one time…”
"MOM" Justin practically screams, his voice jumping an octave and I bite his fingers again to keep from laughing.
“Honey, are you alright,” Lynn asks with an exasperated sigh. “You sound stressed.”
“Mom!” he exclaims again and I can tell he’s almost to his breaking point. “I'm in the shower...naked...can we please just talk about this later!”
I can hear her huff slightly “Alright, alright,” she sighs and I can hear her shoes smacking against the tile as she turns to leave, muttering all the while “…seen you naked since the day you were born… you act like its something I haven't seen before...”
We wait to hear the snap of the door as Lynn leaves his hotel room and both of us heave a sigh of relief, Justin’s hand trembling as he pulls it away from my mouth. And I just can’t hold it in anymore, giggles bubbling up from my throat.
“Shut. Up,” he says breathlessly and I look over my shoulder at him, finding his face flushed, digging the heels of his hands into his forehead.
“A prom dress, J? Glitter eye shadow?” I can barely breathe as I say the words, the laughter just rumbling from me, the relieved tension making me a little slap happy.
But my laughter is abruptly cut short when his hand comes down hard on my ass and I gasp, half from shock and half from pleasure. I can feel his body lean over mine, his chest slick from the water and his voice is right next to my ear as he whispers, “I said. Shut. Up.”
I moan slightly as his lips press against my ear and I feel him grin, straightening back up again before pulling out and sliding back in. I hang my head forward, bracing my hands against the wall, just letting him work me. I should probably tell him to stop. I should probably be a lot more freaked out right now than I really am. That was close…what two weeks ago would have been too close for comfort. And that’s when it hits me. I don’t feel as guilty anymore. I mean I have my moments, but now… right now, him fucking me is the only thing on my mind. Not getting caught, not the moral ramifications. Just his cock inside me.
He’s torturously slow, his dick massaging in and out of me sensually and each time he pushes in he nudges that spot inside me that makes my knees tremble and pulls the air from my lungs. If he would just go a little faster…
“Is that good for you, baby?” he asks lowly and pleasure tremors through me at the husky sound of his voice.
He’s taken to talking to me lately, whispering questions breathlessly, growling instructions. It still amazes me how much he’s changed sexually since that first time. He’s less inhibited, more vocal, less afraid of doing something wrong, more adventurous. But he still has that eagerness to please and the look on his face every time I tell him yes…god it’s enough to set my skin on fire.
“Please… Justin, please,” I moan, my nails trying to dig into the slick tile, and I say something I’ve never said to him before. “Fuck me.”
I hear him gasp and his rhythm falters slightly before a deep groan is pulled from his chest and his hips slam into mine. I cry out, staggering forward a little, the side of my face pressing into the tile wall as he works me hard and fast. I use my arms for leverage, pressing back against him needily, gritting my teeth as I feel it build inside me.
He’s grunting with the force of his thrusts, one hand holding my hip while the other reaches up to grab my shoulder, trying to tug me back harder against him. I whimper his name as pleasure shoots through me and I can’t fucking breathe, small sounds of pleasure falling from my lips and I can’t stop it. I can’t stop from whining and moaning and breathing his name, my hands clawing at the wall just trying to hang on, the water beating down onto my back, caressing its way down my body. My back arches as the first waves hit me and he groans loud, my body sucking at him and I can tell I’m going to scream. He just feels too good not too.
“Sky,” he whimpers, and by the sound of his voice I know he’s practically there. “Please…”
And with that my entire body convulses and I open my mouth to cry out but no sound comes, every last ounce of energy being used to clamp down on him and he falls forward against me, the hand on my shoulder moving up to press over one of mine against the wall as he comes hard, hips twitching violently against mine.
We hold steady like this for a moment, my face pressed against the tile wall, hands braced at my shoulders. His hand that’s covering mine is trembling, his fingers curling to wrap through mine as he rests his cheek against my shoulder, his breath fanning my skin.
My legs are trembling violently as he straightens and I try and do the same, my body weak and unstable. His hands grip my upper arms, guiding me back against him. I close my eyes as we stand under the spray together, trying to just breathe. He holds me close, pressing kisses to the side of my face, his arms wrapping around me.
We let the water run over us for what seems like days, his fingers caressing my skin softly, my head resting back on his shoulder. I whimper softly when he leans down to turn off the water, shivering from the loss of its warmth. He shushes me gently and I gasp when he hooks his hand behind my knees and lifts me, holding me against his chest as he steps out of the tub.
He sets me down and I place a hand on the counter to steady myself, my eyes still closed, exhaustion making my limbs heavy and my mind slow. I hum as I feel the soft terrycloth of a towel on my legs and this his lips on my thigh as he works his way up, drying me off. I peek at him through heavy lids as he dries himself quickly and when he pulls me to him again I just let them close, letting him take care of me.
I wrap my arms around his neck as he picks me up again and carries me into the bedroom, laying me softly on the bed, before climbing in with me, cuddling against me. He rests his head on my shoulder, his face burying in my neck and his arm draping over my waist. I struggle a little and his head snaps up, looking down at me confused as I try and wriggle my arm free. I wrap my arm around his shoulder and he smiles softly, settling back in again. I let my other hand cup his elbow, fingertips reaching to brush the soft skin of his bicep.
I’m fighting sleep, my brain fading and then snapping back into the moment and when I remember I should be leaving. I cannot stay here.
“I need to go,” I breathe hazily, my voice weak from exhaustion.
“Nooooooooooooooooo,” he whines, snuggling closer to me, holding me tight and it’s the first night all over again.
“Justin, your mom wakes you up in the morning,” I rationalize, and shudder as I add, “being almost caught by her once is enough.”
“No, she doesn’t,” he sighs and I shiver as his breath tickles my skin. “Not anymore,” he gives me a squeeze and I can feel him grin as he adds, “I told her I wanted to be more responsible.”
I laugh at this, and I feel his head lift and I open my eyes to find him pouting down at me. “What?” he asks.
“Getting yourself up in the morning… big responsibility.”
He grumbles softly, laying his hand back on my shoulder and I sigh, the hand on his shoulder sliding up to run through his damp curls. He moans softly as my nails scratch at his scalp and he yawns, his nose nuzzling me softly.
My body relaxes completely against him, my cheek resting against the top of his head as I let myself succumb to sleep… but it doesn’t come. My mind is completely blank but alert. God, with the way he worked me I should be sleeping for days but I just can’t…
My eyes snap open when I realize that my mind is completely blank. The guilt, that bone-crushing, mind-numbing guilt that plagues and consumes me after every tryst is gone. I panic slightly, wriggling nervously and he groans, holding me tighter, trying to still my movements. I settle again, rubbing my cheek against his curls softly and I know I should be happy. Who wouldn’t be if gnawing guilt was finally absolved? But it isn’t absolved only merely pushed down so far that I don’t even feel it anymore.
And for the millionth time I wonder what the hell I’m doing with him. What am I risking my entire future for? And then he shifts slightly, his lips resting against my collarbone and he sighs, his breath fanning my skin and I let my eyes close, eventually succumbing to sleep.
