Narrator: Crystal Jennings
The four most prominent moles on his lower chest were arrayed elegantly like the four points of a compass. It was a beautiful coincidence. I traced my wet finger from one to the next, in a diamond shape, 'til my finger was dry.
His jaw was clenched and he was trying to lean as far forward as he could, despite his arms being securely wrapped and cuffed around the headrest of his seat. His lips curled out into a sneer, his nose flared full and his soft brow cast a handsomely angry glare down at me.
I smiled innocently, one hand caressing the edge of his ribcage, the other moving towards the CD case Greg had handed him. As I suspected, it was Cameron's own mix disc. Every song was listed in blue marker around the silver topside.
"You wouldn't dare," he said with vivid contempt.
I tilted my head on its side melodramatically, and read the list. Once I made up my mind, I slid the disc slowly into the stereo as my index finger turned it on. Meanwhile, my other hand dug my fingers into his side, causing him to groan reluctantly.
"Oh, I'd dare," I told him derisively. It was the same artist I'd been hearing when I entered the party, at the lowest point of my day, but I wanted to hear more. Still stradling him just above his knees, I moved further along his upper legs, my bare legs rubbing against the dark, soft denim of his jeans.
The keyboard began to play softly, soon accompanied by an even softer padding of a drum.
Instantly, his twitching, seething grimace melted from his face. It seemed as if I'd chosen just the right song. I was glad, because I'd almost opted for the one lewd title I'd spotted... but I wasn't in the mood for a hand-job. Then, a smile emerged slowly on his calm face.
I wrapped my arms around him, digging my fingers in as I did so. His body felt feverishly warm from struggling against me. He was surprised to now be snuggling against me.
My body moved close against his, pressing his tumescence against my mound as slowly as I could manage, not wanting to overwhelm him with the wrong impression.
"I wasn't looking for it," they sang. "I wasn't ready for the rii-iide..."
I arched my back so that I wasn't shoving my breasts into his face, and leaned into the nook of his neck. He somehow managed to kiss my shoulder just before the lyrics resumed, and he continued to sing along. I felt his diaphragm push out against me as he took in a deep whiff of my hair.