Love Consequences (Season 2 of Nata & Phillip's Romance)

18. They would be billionaires

Nata

I'm kissing Phillip Van Der Heuvel, and I like it. No. I love it. It's better than breathing. It's like out of all the lone Os of oxygen atoms floating in the atmosphere here on planet Earth, his O atom and mine were meant to be the pair that forms the O2 of oxygen gas. The shape of his mouth fits mine even though I'm on the tiptoes, and he's bending down at an angle that must be uncomfortable. But the pleasure in his blown pupils and his cheekbones tinged the slightest pink paint a picture of bliss, not torture, awkward angle be damned.

We've never made it past the hallway of my side of the duplex and the top parts of both his tux and my dress look like we were two adults who just returned from a date at the opera. Our bottom halves are those of horny college students who only remove the clothes that absolutely have to be removed to reach the desired body parts. He steps out of his pants and boxers, sliding his socks off as well.

His still partially hard dick, cock, penis ... none of the words feel right in my mouth. I wasn't an English major for a reason. Words are not my thing. Finding the right ones might never be possible but the feelings, those are all over me. The feeling of him in my mouth. I've done oral with Samson many times before, and it was fun sometimes but it never ever felt like I absolutely had to do it or I wouldn't be able to survive another minute. Him in my mouth felt right. His mouth on mine as he came, giving me the millisecond-by-millisecond feedback was better than if a sports commentator were there explaining every sensation that ran through Phillip's body.

Phillip Van der Heuvel kissed me, and my dreams came true. The dreams of a 21-year-old me whose imagination played out thousands of scenarios of how and when Phillip van der Heuvel would kiss me. Dorm room. Park bench. Library stacks. The desk in the classroom. But even in my college days I would not have come up with this option.

Phillip van der Heuvel kissed me because he wanted to and because I absolutely needed him to. Because somehow over the months of living next door to him I developed feelings that went beyond an old college crush. The sexiest feeling I have found with this man is trust. The sexiest role he's played in my daydreams has been a partner who is honest, who tells me things, who I know wouldn't shy away from hard conversations where I am concerned.

I stand up higher on my tiptoes, and Phillip's hands wrap around and under my butt. I follow his nudge and hop up. His arms form a perch under my thighs, and our mouths are at a considerably less awkward angle. This kissing of tall guys is much harder work than I anticipated but I am ready to do any personal training or Pilates to improve the strength of my upper back and neck to maintain the previous or this kissing pose for extended periods of time.

Phillip separates his lips from mine. "Upstairs, or do you prefer my side?"

"Upstairs," I say as quickly as possible as glue my mouth back to his.

He chuckles, but he doesn't complain. He gives me a nudge, so my legs have a chance to clasp around his waist. Phillip takes steady strides to the staircase. We should probably stop this ridiculousness, separate, and walk up, but if Phillip has that idea, he doesn't voice it, and I don't either. I kiss Phillip, and he kisses me back without breaking his stride. I float as three Os fill me: oxytocin, oxygen, and orgasm. Mouth orgasm is a thing, right?

I enjoy my ride in his arm up every step, and my only focus is to not stop kissing Phillip Van der Heuvel. I may be wrong, but I don't want to accidentally break the spell and bring us back to reality when this wondrous dream that I'm having is so much better.

By the door to my bedroom, Phillip frees one hand and rotates the handle. I slide a little down his naked hips, but he catches me in time, and I laugh against our still joined lips.