Becoming Sweet Girls Page 14

  Allan’s hips shifted against her once more, and then he was pressing at her entrance, insistent but patient. He waited until she pushed up to meet him before he carefully and slowly began to sheath himself inside of her.

  Fingering herself had felt good, but it was nothing compared to the sensation of being stretched wide around Allan. He was methodical in opening her up, holding himself steady until he was seated fully inside and she’d stopped whining.

  “Ready?” he murmured low in her ear, voice heavy with lust, and she responded by arching up off the mattress to wrap her legs around his back tightly. The movement somehow allowed him ever so slightly deeper, stuffing her fuller than she’d ever thought possible. Seeing the pleasure evident on her face from the new pose, he raised her shoulders from the bed until she was sitting up once again, straddling his lap like she had in the kitchen—only this time with fewer clothes.

  They quickly fell into a steady rhythm of fucking, meeting each other’s thrusts halfway. Riley’s head fell onto his shoulder and she realized she could hear his heartbeat, thrumming loud and strong beneath his skin as they moved together in a tangle of limbs. His hands were stroking her back lazily, as if he was unaware of the action, so focused was he on that wet, tight place between her thighs. Her walls squeezed around his cock every time she moaned and he was addicted to the sound—he wanted to always hear her like that, losing herself in the pleasure of what he was doing to her body.

  It wasn’t long before she felt a familiar rush low in her belly and a roaring behind her eyes.

  “C-Close…” Riley gasped in his ear, and Allan responded by reaching one hand between the slippery, sweaty mass of their bodies. His fingers found her clit and the unexpected sensation made her cry out as he toyed with the bundle of nerves, playing with it like an instrument in time with his thrusts. She was gone in her own delirious oblivion by the time he’d set another rhythm, flying over the edge of pleasure without any control left to her.

  She shuddered and gasped in his grasp, her walls clamping down almost painfully tight in a series of quick, intense, rhythmic squeezes around the base of his cock as she came. Riley was lost in the moment—lost in the best orgasm she’d had in the past few weeks, lost in the feeling of being wrapped tightly in Allan’s arms, lost in the pleasure of a really, really good fucking by someone she genuinely cared about, who genuinely cared about her too. If she could have stayed there forever she would have, living in the back and forth of this moment, just enjoying the feeling of Allan’s body pressed up against her and his cock deep inside of her.

  He didn’t last long after her. Just as she was beginning to come down from her high, she felt something hot and sticky explode into her insides. His cock twitched, shooting bursts of pleasantly warm cum deeper inside of her than anything had ever been before. Riley weakly thrust her hips against the sensation, exhausted but determined to make his orgasm just as mind-blowing as hers had been. Allan’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut but he was moaning in time with her movements, twitching and jerking as he finally spent himself inside of her.

  They stayed motionless for a minute after they had both returned to themselves, panting and basking in the afterglow. His cock quickly softened, but he made no move to pull it out of her, every minute movement of his body stirring the seed inside of her. Riley was immensely thankful to the local clinic and to the birth control ring they’d implanted for her after a visit.

  A firm hand grasped her jaw, and she tilted her head up to gaze at Allan, who was watching her every move with a soft, rapt expression. It made her feel self-conscious in a way that was wholly novel for her—he was looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Like she was something precious, something to be adored and loved and worshiped.

  “Are you okay?” he whispered, and she nodded quickly, a breathless giggle erupting from her chest.

  “Are you kidding?” she replied, finally pulling away from him to fall back against the pillows on the bed. Allan carefully removed himself from her and disappeared into the bathroom, reappearing a few seconds later with a damp washcloth. He handed it to her and collapsed onto the sheets next to her while Riley wiped herself clean and tossed the cloth into an empty corner of the room.

  “We can talk later, okay?” he said, his hand returning to her hair and stroking gently. Nodding, she wiggled over to him in the bed so that she could curl up under his arm and rest her head against his warm, reassuring chest. His heart was still beating quickly, a drumbeat under his skin that acted as the best lullaby in the world, soothing her off to sleep.

  Chapter 6

  “Careful with the dresser!” Krystal called out to the movers as they struggled down the sidewalk with said dresser held aloft. They were drenched in sweat and had long since turned bright red beneath the harsh glare of the brilliant afternoon sunshine.

  Riley felt bad for them as she watched them slowly moving along, but there wasn’t really anything she could do to help—Russ might have been able to, but Riley was absolutely not strong enough to make any difference in carrying Krystal’s heavy furniture, and she already had a few cool glasses of water set out in the house for when the movers made it inside and could put their burden down. There was nothing to do but lounge beside her new roommate on the couch and watch as her own bedroom furniture was either moved into Allan’s room or carried outside to be hauled away.

  “They’re doing the best they can,” she chastised Krystal, rolling her eyes at her friend’s antics. The other girl stuck her tongue out at her and returned to watching the movers, glass of lemonade clutched in one hand and sunglasses in the other. The couch was set out on the porch—a pleasantly cool location underneath the shade from an awning. It was one of the first things to be brought out of the house—Krystal had a much bigger couch she was moving into the living room for all of them, big enough that they wouldn’t need to relegate guests to dragged-in kitchen chairs.

  It still felt slightly surreal, looking back on the past few weeks of her life. When they’d woken up from the post-sex haze, she and Allan had talked for hours about their feelings for each other and what the future was going to hold. She learned that he’d had a crush on her from the very first moment she walked down the stairs in Krystal’s old clothes. He’d been trying to act natural around her for the whole night at the club, but it was taking him time to get used to his best friend now being an insanely hot girl and process all of the feelings he’d been having about that.

  Until the creep started to hit on her, that was. He had absolutely no problems coming to her rescue on the dance floor, and it’d been exactly the sort of situation he’d needed to release all his tension about the night’s happenings. Her being harassed hadn’t been a good thing, he was quick to say—but he’d realized that though his role might have shifted slightly in the relationship, Riley was still the same person he’d known for years.

  That also meant he’d had to quietly watch the parade of people she brought through the house as she adjusted to her new body and the new lifestyle it afforded her. She’d wanted to apologize to him for putting him through that, but Allan was quick to shut the apology down. She hadn’t known about his feelings, and was just living her life new life—it wasn’t her fault that he hadn’t told her about his attraction, or about his frustrated thoughts on her late night callers whose place he’d wanted so badly to take.

  To his credit, he was now doing his best to keep up with her utterly ridiculous libido.

  For her part, Riley felt pretty embarrassed and pretty confident at the same time about the fact that it had been love at first sight for him. Not for the first time, she’d silently thanked Madame Orlando and whatever the hell had been in that bath for completely changing her life around. She was a beautiful, sexy, confident, smart young trans woman with the best boyfriend she could possibly have had and a friend who didn’t mind teaching her things about what it meant to be a woman.

  Now that Riley and Allan were together, they were sleep
ing in the same room and had had a spare bedroom in the house. Krystal had been their first stop, before posting to message boards or websites about needing a new roommate; they’d known her forever, and having an extra person around to help with rent was never a bad idea. She’d been delighted to take them up on their offer, and as soon as the move was complete the trio would be living together for the foreseeable future.

  It was dark by the time the movers finished hauling all the furniture into place, including removing the raggedy old couch both girls had curled up on to watch them. They moved inside with a few beers, playing video games on Allan’s console until he got home from work, but Riley was finding herself once again increasingly distracted by the all-too-common heat that rose up inside her when she went a few hours without sex or attending to herself. With the movers around, she hadn’t had time to deal with her needs, and Allan was too close to being done with work to make masturbating worth it.

  “All this happened and I still have my original problem,” Riley complained, trying to ignore the aching need between her legs as Krystal’s character lapped hers on the brightly-colored track for the second time that race. Her new roommate whooped loudly as the finish line came into view, and she breathed her own sigh of relief that the torture of losing so badly was finally over. As punishment for losing, she raised the beer to her lips and took a deep breath before starting to chug it, ignoring the burn that built up in the back of her throat.

  Riley slammed the glass down on the table when she was done and Krystal cheered again, taking her own celebratory drink.

  “It’s not fair,” the brunette whined, and the red-head rolled her eyes so hard they seemed like they might pop out of her head. “I love being a girl, but I still can’t get enough sex. Allan can barely keep up.”

  “The psychic did say that this wouldn’t fix your problem, remember?” Krystal replied with a smirk. “Good thing he loves you so much.”

  Before she could retort, light flashed across the back wall of the living room, signaling Allan’s return from work. Riley was off the couch in a flash and sped to the door, throwing it open so that her silhouette stood out in the glare of the car’s lights. She posed in the spotlights, feeling equally silly and seductive, but Allan wore a large smile as he came to the door with his bag strapped across his body. He’d hardly had a chance to take in the new room configuration before Riley was dragging him by the front of his shirt, over to the stairs and up to their new bedroom.

  “Whoa, whoa, babe, at least let me get out of these work clothes?” Allan muttered with a chuckle.

  “Shut up and come on. I’ll take care of your pants for you,” Riley replied. “You don’t know how badly I need this.”

  As the pair disappeared down the hall in a flurry of dropped clothing, they heard Krystal whistle loudly from the living room.

  “Get it girl!” she called.

  Riley paused in her flurry of kisses and grinned as she slammed the bedroom door closed.

  Her libido might still be a small problem, but it was one that the both of them could live with happily for the rest of their lives together…

  The end… for now. Thanks for reading!

  - xoxo, Alyson

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  Becoming Hers (Book #3)

  BECOMING HERS

  by

  Alyson Belle

  Copyright © 2018 Alyson Belle

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  All characters in this book are over the age of 18 (18+ only). All characters, locations, and situations are entirely fictional representations and any resemblance to real world scenarios are entirely coincidental.

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  Chapter 1

  “You never were man enough for me anyways, Tom! Look at you! You’re so pathetic.”

  I rubbed my temples, my girlfriend’s words playing over and over again in my mind.

  Well,ex-girlfriend.

  Those words still hung heavy in my mind and felt foreign on my tongue. It had only been two days since my partner of three years had broken it off with me and I was still reeling. I had no idea it had been coming, and I still couldn’t believe that she had kicked me while I was down.

  But that was exactly what she had done.

  “I can’t be with someone who obviously has no idea where they’re going in life!”

  I grimaced at that. Just a week earlier I would have been able to argue that I had an amazing job that paid our bills and allowed her to live in relative ease. But that I couldn’t say that any longer considering the fact that I had lost my job that Monday.

  I’d been working there since college, specializing in advertising for a large firm. I’d gone from unpaid intern to a project lead, putting in hours and hours of work, only for them to lay off half of our department in one fell swoop.

  Sure, I had an alright severance package, but it had been such a blow to my ego that I’d sulked in our two-bedroom apartment for a solid chunk of time, only coming out to go to the bathroom. And then, on the third day, Stacey had dropped her big break-up bomb.

  It had been playing over and over again in my mind on repeat until I practically had it memorized. I could still see the curl to her lips as she insulted me, feel the relief flow through her as she told me it was done. I could still hear my heart thumping in my chest and my blood rushing past my ears.

  Just think about something else,I urged myself, looking at my phone for maybe the millionth time out of pure habit, even though I knew nothing would have changed.

  “Waiting for troubling news, young sir?”

  The interruption startled me, and I looked up at the passenger next to me. She was a dark-skinned woman with elegant features, her eyes lined in what looked like the expertly applied cat eye eyeliner style that my ex had always tried to draw on but never quite succeeded at.

  Who talks to their seat-mate on airplanes? Jeez, lady,I thought, annoyed that she was butting in and forcing me to make small talk with a stranger on my already bad day. Week. Life.

  “Uh, no. I’m fine,” I said sullenly, putting my phone face down. “It’s in airplane mode anyways.”

  “Are you sure?” she murmured, seeming to see right through my clumsy protest.

  I took a second look at her, feeling uncomfortable under her direct gaze. Her hair was done up in meticulously kept coils with beautiful glass beads woven in. Her clothes were loose but still stylish, like something from one of the hippy magazines that my girlfriend would pour over for hours.

  Ex-girlfriend,I reminded myself, feeling a slight sting.

  “Pardon me for prying,” she continued. “But I couldn’t help but notice you seem… anxious. Like someone waiting for something they’re not sure will even be happening.”

  “I, uh-”

  That was ridiculous.

  Except… I supposed it kind of wasn’t. She’d nailed the situation exactly. How had she done that?

  “I’m just going to NYC to visit a friend that I haven’t seen in a long while.”

  “Oh, are they a very good friend?”

  That was one way to say it.

  Lyla and I had been friends since we were teenagers, when I’d been little more than an awkward sack full of hormones and pimples. W
e had been thick as thieves, going through the worst times of our lives together, but we had drifted apart after we graduated college.

  “Yes, definitely,” I answered. I didn’t know why I was telling a strange woman this, but for some reason I felt sort of at ease with this lady. Maybe it was just nice to talk to someone about everything going on inside of me instead of keeping it all bottled up for a change. “We trust each other with everything.”

  Well,almosteverything.

  The secret being that I was madly in love with Lyla and always had been.

  I wasn’t sure when it started. Maybe it was when I was a wimpy freshman who spoke with an occasional stutter and she was nice to me anyway and hung out laughing with me at lunch. Maybe it was when we both got leads in the school play and had to share a stage kiss. I supposed thewhendidn’t really matter. Just that somewhere in our long friendship, it had turned into something else for me. Something more than platonic.

  I wanted to tell Lyla for ages, but I knew how those things usually went. I loved being with her and didn’t want to ruin what we had. So I kept it secret at first, telling myself that it wasn’t real—that it was just puppy love. But I knew in my heart that it wasn’t. It got so bad that eventually I knew I had to confess my feelings to her, take my shot, or regret it forever. Then we both got into the same college, and I had the perfect opportunity.

  I’d tell her during our freshman year together, away from home, family, and all the friends that knew us both. That way, if Lyla didn’t return my feelings and it made things awkward between us, it would be easier to either work through it or go our separate ways without the gossip mill churning all around us.