My Guys by Tanya Chris

from My Guys by Tanya Chris

I stretched my body on top of his, or at least as much as I could in our cramped quarters. Determined this time to participate, I nuzzled my nose against his neck.


“Do you like to be kissed there?” I asked.

“I like to be kissed everywhere.”

“I’ll start here.” I tried to mimic what he’d done to my mouth, and then to my nipples, on his neck—those slowly sensuous, worshipful movements that paralyzed my limbs and reason while accelerating my heart rate.

“Mmm,” he said again, squirming beneath me. “Careful of leaving marks, though. I have to think of my adoring public.”

I shifted to the other side, moving up under his ear.

“That’s nice too,” he said casually, the tone belied by his cock pressing insistently up against me and his hands, a little too tight on my shoulders.

I was trying to concentrate on what I was doing to him, not on what he was doing to me, and I was managing pretty well until he shifted his hands to my ass and used them to press my pelvis tightly against his.

I moaned into the ear I’d been licking.

“Best yet,” he said, rocking me against him so that I moaned again. Then he was pushing at my shoulders, pressing me away from him. I resisted, not wanting to lose contact, but he guided my legs so that I was kneeling across him, my pussy squarely straddling the hardest part of him.

My clit throbbed towards him. I hadn’t been this turned on since perhaps the last time I’d made out in a car. I’d forgotten just how good dry humping felt. Not to the guy, perhaps, but—


He’d taken my hips and pulled them forward and down, arching my pubic bone and clit along his cock in a move that left me breath enough for only that—saying oh.

He did it again. A warm, pulsing throb of pleasure engulfed me. As the wave receded, he did it again. In the moment of time he gave me between strokes, I saw him—his face serious, his eyes open, watching me like I was the only thing in the world.

He did it again. I was going to come if he kept it up.


“Close your eyes, Lissie. Sweetheart. Close your eyes for me and let me.” His voice was the only soft part of him. His eyes steady, his cock hard, his hands firm. Even as he told me to close my eyes he rocked me forward again and the breath burst from me.

I closed my eyes. I felt the rhythm as he repeated it and then I took it from him. My hips told his hands how to move me, and his hands obeyed.

“Oh!” I said one last time as the orgasm erupted through me.

He continued to drag me across him, eliciting aftershocks. Once, twice, three times—each fresh rush of pleasure announced by my whispering squeak—and then I fell against him, nothing left.

His arms came around me and his cheek nuzzled mine. Softly, I wafted back to earth.


He leaned forward to bring his mouth to my pussy and I stiffened. I’d taken a shower before going to the theater, but then I’d been up and down those ladders. I knew I didn’t smell good, plus I’d never enjoyed this particular activity much. I couldn’t bear to be the center of attention that way. The expectation of my enjoyment was too heavy a burden. I pulled at Nate’s arms, trying to tug him away from his intention.

“Let me take off your pants.” I yanked at his arms.

He stood up so his crotch was about eye level. I unfastened that button I’d been trying so hard to unfasten the night before.

“Finally,” I joked, trying to bring back the laughter.

He smiled at me as I undid his zipper and pulled down his jeans. His cock stuck straight out at me, straining to escape through the fly of his boxers. I ran my hand along it, stroking it through the material before he had those off too. Now there was nothing but naked me and naked Nate with naked Nate’s naked cock staring me straight in the face.

I knew what he’d be expecting, so I put my mouth on the head, tilting my eyes to look up at him. He stroked my hair, waiting. I moved my mouth up and down his shaft, my hand firmly gripping the base to hold it steady. Nate’s hand tightened in my hair. He moaned a little, then yelped.

“Gentle,” he said, stroking my hair again.

I returned to my task, trying to be more gentle but unsure where I’d gone wrong. This was my standard blowjob technique and no one had complained before.

After what seemed like enough time, I pulled his dick from my mouth. I sat up and leaned back, waiting for him to take charge again, but when he started to kneel, I grabbed his arms and pulled him on top of me.

“I want you in me,” I said, aiming for sexy rather than controlling. I was ready for my orgasm now, for that pleasure he was sure to bring me which no one ever had before.

Nate scowled at me. “We’re just getting started.”

“I’m ready. I want you. I want this.” I pushed my hips up against his, pressing that hard cock against my pubic bone where I wanted it. I ground myself against him, letting him feel my wet readiness. Nate rolled off me.

“Where are you going?”

“Condom.” He found his jeans on the floor and removed a box of condoms from one of the pockets.

“I didn’t think of that.” I watched him open a foil packet and apply the condom to his dick with practiced assurance. Had I ever used a condom before? With Scott that first time, there’d been a wink, a prayer, and a sincere attempt to pull out in time. Before long I’d gone on the pill. Even between boyfriends it had been easier to keep my prescription filled than to stop only to start again.

With the condom on, Nate rolled onto his back on the bed. “Come here.” He tried to pull me on top of him.

“Not that way.” It was another center-of-attention, too-self-conscious thing, being on top.

“Like this?” He set himself on top of me with his weight on his elbows.

I nodded, still eager, though not nearly as ready. The preliminaries were dragging on forever.

“OK, then.” He slid into me slowly, then started to move. I moved with him, waiting for the passion to overtake me. It didn’t. The motion felt nice, pleasant, even arousing in a tickly way, but it wasn’t building to any kind of crescendo. I opened my eyes. Nate was watching me intently.

I closed my eyes and moaned. I pushed myself against him harder and moaned again.

“Yes, yes,” I said, pulling at his hips to force him to pick up the pace. “Oh God, oh God.” I raised the pitch of my voice, letting my fingernails dig into his skin. I tilted my head back and gave a particularly loud groan, signaling that I was done.

When I loosened my hold on his hips, Nate slowed his pace. He shifted his weight back towards his knees and brought a hand between our bodies, his fingers finding my clit. Although I tried to kick my feet into his ass to urge him forward into a faster pace again, he kept fiddling with my clit, pressuring me. I faked a second orgasm.

Nate stopped moving. Had he come? I didn’t think he’d come. I felt his erection softening within me even before he withdrew it.

That was it. No fireworks, no thunder, not for either of us. Uninterested and uninteresting. It was no different with Nate because the problem was me. Hadn’t I known that already?

I was crying before I could stop myself.

“Hey now,” Nate said. “Don’t do that.” He rolled onto his side and propped himself up on an elbow to look at me.

I turned away from him, curling into an unhappy ball, the sobs choking me. “You hated it.”

“You didn’t like it either.”

“Yes, I did.” I cried harder to make my point.

“No, you didn’t.” He flopped onto his back with an exasperated sigh. “And if you can’t admit it, then we can’t fix it.”


I took a very deep breath and confessed what I never had to anyone, not even to Donna on our drunkest nights of girl talk: “I was faking it.”

He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed so he was next to me, and put his arm around me. He kissed my temple. I felt the tears return, but softer.

“You hate me now,” I said.

“I’m proud of you now,” he answered. He kissed my forehead again. I curled into him and let him comfort me.

“Why?” he asked when I started sniffling the tears dry.

“I can’t do it. I’ve never been able to.”

“That’s not true. At least, I’m pretty sure it’s not true. That night in the car—that was real, right?”

I nodded against his chest.

“Good. I have nice memories of that night.”

I smiled. I had nice memories too.

“OK, so we know you can.”

“Not with a man,” I clarified.

“That’s a little insulting.”

I peeked up at him to confirm the smile I heard in his voice. “You know what I mean. I can’t do it the right way.”

“Lissie, there’s no right way.” He stroked his hand down my hair, brushing back my bangs so he could see my eyes. “There are only ways that work for you and ways that don’t. Today we learned that straight-up missionary position does not.”

“How did you know?”

He shrugged, making his chest move beneath my head. “I know that most women need something more than a dick moving in and out of them. It was highly unlikely you were coming that easily, that quickly. I hadn’t earned it.”

“So how come no one else ever figured it out?”

“People believe what they want to believe, I guess, and I’d seen the real thing, so I had something to compare to.”

I was glad we’d had that at least, that one night. I didn’t know if we’d ever have more. “What do we do now? We can’t just have sex with our clothes on in the back of a car.”

“Yes, we can, if that’s the only way to get you off. I have some other ideas, though.” He smirked down at me. I was glad to see the spark back in his eyes. “How about we try it my way this time?”

“Um.” I’d gotten a glimpse of his way when he’d knelt before me.

“You owe me,” he said. “Not an orgasm—that happens or not. You owe me honesty. Yes?”


“OK, then honestly, why can’t I go down on you?”

I hesitated, embarrassed to even put into words the embarrassment I felt. “Because I feel like you’d only be doing it so I’d like it, and I wouldn’t like it anyway.”

“Because when you were going down on me, you were only doing it because I’d like it?”

I nodded.

“OK, we’ll work on that later. Here’s what’s important now—I’d like it very much.”

I shot him a doubtful glance.

“And,” he continued. “I think you’d like it too, if you weren’t working so hard at pretending to like it.” He pulled me onto his lap so I was straddling him and kissed me.

My first reaction was to tense up, fearful of what came next, but I couldn’t stay tense, not with his lips tugging gently at mine. I grew warm in his arms. I untied the belt to my robe and shrugged it off my shoulders. Nate made a sound of appreciation against my mouth and moved his hands up to my waist. I felt his penis grow chubby against my bottom.

He rotated us, laying me back against the bed, dropping to his knees between my legs.

“Nate,” I squealed, the panic returning.

“Mmm,” he murmured. “Did you know I could smell you in the car that night, right through your pants?”

“No.” I drew back from him.

“Yes,” he said, his hands clamping down on my thighs, not allowing me to get very far away. “It was driving me crazy that I couldn’t get closer to your pussy then. Don’t take it away from me now.” He leaned in and nuzzled his nose right into me. “You smell like sex in a bottle, just the way I remember.”

He stopped talking then, his mouth pressing into me, the whole wet warmth of it melding into my own wet warmth.

“Mmm,” he said again, the vibration teasing me. “You taste better than you smell.” His tongue curled up and around my clit once, making me jump. He was licking all around me softly, his nose bumping against my clit, his tongue coming up beneath it.

I wanted to enjoy it, I really did, but the fear kept coursing through me.

“Nate?” I asked, trying to squirm away.

“Stay still,” he said. “I’m working here.”

“I want to ask you something.” I propped myself up on my elbows to look at him.

He lifted his head. I saw my slimy wetness covering his face from chin to nose and winced.

“Do you really like it?” I asked him. “Swear?”

He linked his hands with mine and yanked so that I was sitting upright. Looking down at him, I saw what he intended me to see—his hard cock jutting out between his legs.

“OK?” he asked me.

“OK,” I said, convinced by the hard—literally—evidence in front of me. I lay back down and willed myself to relax. If it made Nate happy, if it made Nate horny, I could let him lick me for a while.

Finally given free access to my pussy, Nate dove into it with gusto. What had been slow, gentle licks around the edges became more focused pressure directly on my clit. His mouth surrounded it—lips, tongue, even lightly applied teeth all working together to create a medley of sensation.

If I could have vocalized a complaint about oral sex in the past, it would have been one of insufficiency. My own fingers were broad and firmly applied. My partners’ tongues had felt distantly light yet ferociously sharp, like pinpricks of pleasure. Whereas Nate was—


Nate was ... mashing was the only word I could conjure up just then. Nate was mashing his face into me—steady wet pressure surrounding his broad driving tongue, his upper lip grinding down against his lower lip, my clit caught between them in a delightful vice, held helpless.

“Nate,” I breathed out. I tried to pull away, confused and overwhelmed. His hands tightened on my thighs, anchoring me in place. I whimpered, momentarily desperate to escape.

Surrender, surrender, his mouth insisted. His fingers were restless against my thighs. I could feel his passion through them, urging me forward.

Too much, I thought. As if he heard me, he backed off, sliding his tongue lower so that it lapped at the opening to my pussy. Automatically my pelvis tilted, trying to realign his tongue with my clit. He lifted his chin, fastening his mouth over me again and in a heartbeat all hesitation left me.

I needed what he was offering. I put my hands on his head, pulling him into me, pressing forward, holding him captive to my pussy as he eagerly ate it.

I came—pushing, pushing, pushing into him and then, the sensation too intense as my orgasm peaked, trying to pull away. Still, he didn’t allow it, adding a light suction to the frenzy of heat and wet and motion. A second wave of orgasm broke over me, higher than the first. From a distance I heard my own incoherent voice. Needing somehow even more contact I pressed into him again, riding the wave until it broke.

Damp with sweat, although I hadn’t moved more than inches, I melted into the bed. Nate was still between my legs, his mouth lower and slower. I pulled at his arms to bring him up to me.

“Done already?” he asked. “Sure?”

Now that he mentioned it, I wasn’t at all sure, but I sat up anyway, just to check. Yep, still hard. He lifted his head and grinned at me—a pussy-eating grin. He glowed with satisfaction and glistened with my juices. I lay back down.

“More, please.” I threaded my hands through his hair and pulled him into me.

About the book

What happens when happily-ever-after fades into nice-but-routine? That’s when Melissa, nearing forty and trying to finally have that baby, finds out that her husband of fifteen years has been cheating on her. Now separated and adrift, she realizes how much her identity was tied up in Alex. What’s left when he’s gone?

On her road to re-discovery, she meets a wickedly charming actor named Nate. Nate likes older women, but he doesn’t like monogamy, and he won’t tolerate her habit of faking orgasms. Once she learns to be honest, her libido really takes off. She could be happily committed to Nate, if only he’d be happily committed to her.

Forced into non-monogamy, she decides to take advantage of it. Derek, the hot, young climbing stud at her gym, may be bold enough on the rock, but he’s adorably shy when it comes to women. Melissa thinks she might be just what he needs.

With two young lovers and two new hobbies, Melissa’s building an exciting life without Alex, but what’s she supposed to do about the fact that she still loves him?