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Day 3 BBM (Before Ben’s Mouth)

Rey’s a little drunk.

And a week ago she didn’t even care about baseball.

Her roommates told her that she had to watch the World Series with them. Every single night of it.

“C’mon,” Poe said over one of Finn’s Norwegian yogurts. “Where’s your Chicago pride?”

Poe, Finn, and Ben went to school in Cleveland, hence their diehard allegiance to the Indians. Which makes her, by default, the single purveyor of Cubs pride. Not a thing she thought she’d ever resort to in life.

She has a complicated relationship with Chicago. It was where her parents left her outside a fire station at the age of five. But it was also where she was put in the arms of Maz Kenata, an older woman who eventually adopted her, after years in the Illinois foster care system. The city lost some of its gleam when Maz died during Rey’s senior year of college at Loyola. When she got her job in D.C., she didn’t think twice about moving.

The final night of the World Series is a Wednesday. The Cubs and the Indians have won three games each. Rey’s not afraid to admit that she’s pretty invested in this by now.

Which is why, on this final night, she’s let the boys ply her with beer.

And more beer.

Until she’s reached this level of tipsy.

Poe and Finn have admitted defeat. But not Ben. Ben, who grew up outside of Cleveland, whose vowels still retain a hard Midwestern lilt.

“Ben, buddy, you gotta call it,” Poe says.

He and Finn have cozied up on one side of the couch, Rey on the other side with Ben in the armchair.

Ben’s wearing his sweat-stained Indians shirt – maybe it was once white? – and has his feet firmly on the ground, upper body forward, eyes intently on the screen. He doesn’t look back at Poe but shakes his head. “Are you kidding?”

“Yeah, buddy,” Rey says. “Call it. The Cubbies have it in the bag.”

It’s the ninth inning, and the score’s tied, but the Cubs are playing far better than the Indians.

Ben snorts, clearly unimpressed with her talk. “You really think the Cubs are going to beat my Indians?”

“Yeah,” she says, his cockiness fueling her competitive spirit. “I do.”

Finn, also a little – or a lot – drunk, leans forward to take a handful of popcorn out of the bowl on the coffee table. “Those are betting words, my friends. How much are you guys willing to put on it?”

Ben, whose leg was jiggling incessantly, freezes. Wide eyed, he looks at her.

Rey may be blitzed, but she knows why. She’s broke. In debt. And cheap.

“It doesn’t have to be money,” Ben says, his arrogance temporarily gone.

Though he’s trying to be nice – considerate, even – of her financial situation, it only makes her angrier. “Yeah, okay, so what do you want out of it?”

He darts his eyes between the TV and her, trying not to miss any of the action. “Well,” he says, cheeks pink underneath the light of the TV. Probably from the beer. “Work has this stupid Christmas party coming up—”

“You’re Jewish,” Poe says, frowning.

“And I need a date.” Ben now staunchly stares at the TV, leg jiggling worse than ever.

Poe snorts.

She looks at him confused, but Finn elbows him in the side.

Weird.

“You need a date?” Rey asks.

Sure, Ben might be a bit unconventional looking, but he’s not ugly. In D.C. he’s definitely a 7. He’s built – not jacked, which she thinks is an important distinction – with silky black hair. When the roomies go out, he always places himself between her and traffic. He makes sure she orders first. One time he even pulled out her chair. (Finn and Poe teased him so badly that he hasn’t done it again.)

Honestly, if she stares at him too long her heart races, so she tries not to do that.

Why would Ben Solo, big pharma lobbyist and certified Hulk (hunk) need help getting a date?

“I mean,” he says, “it wouldn’t be, like, a date date. Just a plus one. You know. Moral support.”

Poe snorts again.

She moves to get some popcorn. “Free food? I’d do that for nothing.”

His head whips around. He opens his mouth then closes it. “Oh.”

His lips are so full. They’re pretty. Ben, a rugged mountain man with legs like sequoias, has pretty lips. She giggles.

His tongue darts out and licks them.

Rey knows she’s a little drunk (heading swimming with the craft beer Ben insists on buying from the overpriced store down the block) but that doesn’t stop her from blurting:

“If the Cubs win, you have to blow me for a month.”

Ben is clearly more sober than her. This isn’t hard when you’re built like a bear and were raised by a beer-guzzling mechanic, like he was.

What?” Mouth open even wider than before, a flush goes down his face. He’s as still as a statue.

Poe makes a coughing noise and Finn elbows him again.

She always forgets that she’s not “one of the guys.” Also, that these guys are not those kind of guys. Guys who wager sexual favors like poker chips. With all the sports-watching and beer-drinking of the past few days, she’s let herself think that they are a band of manly-men. Obviously, she knows gender is fake and toxic masculinity is the root of many societal problems, but she’s been a little drunk and wearing a backwards baseball cap and spouting out Cubs cheers. She’s not exactly herself.

With all three men staring at her, she’s losing her bravado.

“Um,” she says.

“No,” Poe says. “I think that’s a great idea. Right, Ben? Since the Indians are definitely going to win?” He flashes Ben his signature smirk, meant to goad.

Ben scowls. “Fine. If I win – which I will – you have to clean my room for a week.”

Finn barks out a laugh. “There’d be nothing to clean!”

His nostrils flare. “Whatever. We’ll play it your way, Rey. If I win, you have to blow me for a month.”

“Ooh,” Finn says. “Let’s make it more interesting. Whoever does the blowing can’t expect anything in return.”

Rey chokes on a kernel.

It’s after midnight when the Cubs win. After the tenth inning they beat the Indians 8 – 7, the Cubs winning the World Series for the first time since 1908.

Finn and Poe hoot while Ben throws the empty – aluminum – popcorn bowl on the ground, where it dings around the crappy hardwood flooring. Then he stomps off to the bathroom down the hall, slamming the door behind him.  

The three on the couch can no longer stifle their giggles.

“I did it!” Rey says. “I won!” She hasn’t won a lot of things in her life, so winning a bet opposite Ben Solo is pretty monumental.

Unfortunately, she’s sobered up a little, and the weight of what she said dawns on her.

Ben Solo’s going to eat her out for a month.

 

Day 2 BBM

Her hangover isn’t terrible, but the pounding in her head along with the anxiety of running into Ben are enough to keep her longer than normal in her room before work.

She finally creeps out to see Ben standing in the kitchen. He’s in a pair of khakis and a pink button-up. Hand-made pottery mug in hand. Staring right at her.

“Good morning,” he says, taking a sip.

She squeaks out a greeting. Has he been waiting for her? At this point she’ll be late for work. He’ll be late for work.

“We should talk,” he says.

She nods, trying to seem convincing. “Totally. After work?”

He smirks. “How about now?” He pushes her Loyola coffee mug to the end of the counter.

He’s definitely been waiting for her.

“Is that from your French Press?” she asks, eyeing it warily. Ben never lets anyone use his French Press, let alone share his coffee. She pads forward to where he stands, feeling woefully underdressed in her pajamas. Tentatively she drinks from the mug.

He rolls his eyes. “You guys are impossible. Anytime I do something nice, it’s like the world is ending. I’m a nice guy.”

She snorts.

He scowls. “I am.”

“You’re nice to me,” she concedes.

He blushes. “Yes. Which is why I want to talk to you now. Sober.”

Her heart dips. “Is this about …”

He nods. “I wanted to re-evaluate your … proposition.” He stares down at the counter, sliding his pointer finger across the faux-marble and then inspecting it for dirt.

He has the largest hands she’s even seen. Each finger is thick and long with well-taken care of nailbeds. If lobbying for a soul-sucking oil group doesn’t work out, he could definitely become a hand model.

Would he use his hands on her, too?

God, she needs to get a grip.

His words register, and her stomach drops. What if he doesn’t want to? What if he feels uncomfortable? “Oh my god, Ben, you totally don’t have to.” She isn’t going to make him eat her out. “I’m not going to force you.” Which seems a little silly since he’s twice her size. She can’t physically force him to do anything.

Plus, guys don’t like licking the carpet, right? Her last few boyfriends made it clear that they’d do it, but they’d much rather be on the receiving end.

“I’m a firm believer in consent,” she says.

His eyes widen comically. Clearly alarmed.

“And if you don’t want to,” she says, “I can come up with something else for you to do, okay?”

He purses his lips and stares down at the counter. His pointer finger now moves up and down the mug.

It’s practically pornographic.

“Is it—do you not want me to?” His eyes meet hers. He looks a little unsure.

The idea of her not wanting this is laughable. “Believe me, Ben, I want to. But I’m not going to make you.”

His shoulders relax. Shrugging, he says, “No, I don’t mind it. I just thought we should iron out some logistics.”

That makes sense. “Right.”

“As you may be aware, months are typically 31 or 30 days.”

Now it’s her turn to scowl. “Thank you for the lesson on the Gregorian calendar.”

This gets her a small smile. “I propose 30 days, starting on the date of your choice.”

Part of her wants to start today, but she has a feeling that could be a disaster. At 24, she knows herself well-enough to understand she needs a transition period to sufficiently freak out and adjust to the coming change.

The change being Ben’s mouth.

And fingers.

“30 days starting on Saturday,” she says. “Is that good?”

A long breath escapes him. He smiles. “Perfect.”

 

Day 1 BBM

Despite giving herself time to process that her platonic friend, Ben, will be eating her out for a month (and expecting nothing in return), she does her best to ignore it. Until Friday night.

She paces the (small) length of her room. How will this even work? What time of day? Is there a good time of day to get your pussy eaten? She’d laugh if her heart weren’t pounding so hard in her chest.

She might throw up.

Not at the prospect of Ben using his mouth on her. That sounds nice. More than nice, actually. He’s so intense, she can’t even imagine what would happen if he directed that to eating her out.

But he’s her friend. Will it be weird after?

Then again, Poe and Finn are together and it’s not weird living with them. What does it matter if she and Ben do stuff?

Except, that of course it’s not weird living with Poe and Finn in a three-bedroom. They’ve been together forever and will probably get married in a couple of years. She and Ben are just roommates. Friends. Someone she’s known only a year.

They’re all so good about including her, that she forgets she’s the interloper. She barged in on their friendship. She’s the fourth musketeer.

Is there a fourth musketeer?

What if things go so badly that she has to move out? She’ll become someone they mention in stories a few years from now. “That’s back when we rented our third room to Rey, this girl from Chicago.” A random bystander in their memory. Just a blip in their friendship’s history.

A knock on her bedroom door makes her jump.

“Um, who is it?” she calls.

“Ben.”

“Oh.” She scans her room. At least the bed is made. “Come in.”

He opens the door and leans against the frame, clad in a white t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms. He folds his arms. His massive, meaty arms. God, she can even see his pecs – his nipples – through his shirt.

If he eats her out, will she survive?

“You’re freaking out,” he says.

She shakes her head. “No. I’m not. Not at all.”

He laughs. “I can hear you stomping around through the wall. What’s wrong? Is it the bet?”

“I don’t want to move out!” she practically yells at him.

He raises his eyebrows, lips twitching. “I didn’t know that was an option.”

“It could be. If this goes badly.” Clearly, she’s the only one thinking this through.

His face falls into a kind smile. “Rey, I will not let this go badly. You can back out at any time.”

Like it’s his wager, not hers.

“I’m not backing out,” she says, slightly offended.

“Then why are you moving out? In this completely hypothetical – and impossible – scenario?” He looks at her expectantly.

She splutters for a second. “Because things might be weird between us afterward.”

His lips twitch again. “Weird how?”

She gives him a mutinous glare. “You know how. It’ll be weird because you’ve … you know.”

He smirks. “Because I’ll know what you taste like?”

She rolls her eyes. “Okay, good night.”

Moving to close her door on him, he steps forward and places his hands on her shoulders. No smirk, no twitch of the lips, eyes earnest.  “You are in complete control,” he says. “You know where to find me when you’re ready tomorrow.”

 

Day 1 ABM (After Ben’s Mouth)

Ever since Poe and Finn went out for margaritas at seven, Rey’s been trying to get up the courage to knock on Ben’s door.

He’s such an asshole, making her come to him. He knows she’s freaking out about this. He’s sitting in his room, letting her sweat.

Slightly angry at him now, she goes and knocks on his door.

Ben opens it, hair tousled, shirtless, in the same flannel pants as the night before. He grins. “Is there something I can do for you?”

He’s so difficult sometimes, good lord. “You know there is.”

Nodding, he lets her in. “I thought we could be in my room tonight.”

Can she take being surrounded by his scent? He has a nice musk, and his cologne has hints of bergamot.

“Oh,” she says. “Sure.”

Standing behind her, he moves her hair over her shoulder, then places soft kisses on the part of the neck he’s uncovered.

She jerks away. “What are you doing?”

He scowls. “Warming you up.”

She glances around the room. There are candles lit.

“We shouldn’t kiss.”

Why would she say that? Literally why would that come out of her mouth? She wants to smack herself.

He frowns. “What?”

“It’s just,” she says, scrambling because she’s an incredibly stupid person, “the rules. Nothing else in return. Just my …”

He stares at her for a moment.

His chest is so smooth and nice. Supple muscles with moles dotting his skin. Warm.

Literally what is wrong with her.

“Just your pussy?”

Her exhale is shaky.

“Just that, Rey? Nothing else?” He’s walking closer, backing her up until she feels his bed behind her knees.

She gulps. “Right.”

He shakes his head, looking up at the ceiling, hands on his hips. After a few moments, he nods and gazes down at her. “Whatever you want.”

“Okay.”

They stay like that for a few seconds. Her eyes wander around his room, taking in its neatness. This is getting kind of awkward.

“Rey,” he says.

She looks back up at him.

“Do you want to be naked? Or just bottoms off?” His hand reaches toward her face.

Her body lurches so that his finger jabs her eye. “Oh shit.” She clutches a hand to her face like an eyepatch. “Ben, what the heck?”

“Me?” he says, sitting beside her at the edge of his bed. “You moved! How is this on me?” He gently moves her head to face him and takes away her hand. After closely inspecting it, he rolls his eyes. “You’re fine. Rey, are you sure you want to do this?”

And just like that, at the prospect of this whole thing being taken away, she jumps up from the bed and rolls down her leggings, underwear, and socks.

Ben gapes at her.

And she wants to kiss him.

Which is why she shuffles past him to lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“I’m ready, buddy boy. Are you?”

He moves over her, shifting down and opening her legs wide. Staring at her pussy.

Her nipples harden.

“Fuck,” he says.

Her clit tingles at the attention.

His gaze goes back up her body, until they’re making eye contact.

“I want your fingers,” she basically blurts out.

His eyebrows rise. “I thought this was just my mouth. Isn’t that the deal, Rey?”

She scowls at his teasing. “I need both to come.”

He licks his lips, looking back down at her pussy. “Alright.”

Then he just stares. As if he doesn’t know what to do.

Oh god. What if he doesn’t know what to do? No wonder he’s fine with this – he wants practice!

“Um,” she says as the seconds drag on. “You have done this before, right?”

He gives her a dead expression. “Yes, Rey. I’ve eaten pussy before. Jesus Christ.”

“Then what’s the hold up?”

He snorts. “The hold up is I don’t know where to start. What do you like?”

Visions of his thick fingers tracing her labia, rubbing light circles around her clit, fill her thoughts. “Your fingers. Start with fingers."

What happens next, she’s willing to admit, is her fault.

He sticks a finger up her vagina.

Then starts curling it.

One of his hands braces itself on her upper thigh, the other one goes in and out, lacking the finesse she imagined.

“Are you digging for loose change up there? Missing your lucky penny?”

Ben glares at her. “You said you want my fingers. I’m trying to find your g-spot.”

His finger has gone still inside her, when she really wants it circling her clit.

How can she phrase this without offending him? Men don’t take her constructive criticism well in any setting, particularly the men with whom she’s had sex. Any gentle guidance she’s ever given has been met with defensive comments and a reminder that they’re doing her a favor.

Ben takes his finger out of her. She must look pretty pathetic, because he smiles very nicely at her. “Rey, you can tell me what you want. This is supposed to feel good for you. That’s what this whole thing is supposed to be about.”

Mentally weighing her options, she twists her mouth back and forth. “I like the anticipation. Light touches. I want to feel desired, I guess. Not going straight for the kill.”

The hand on her upper thigh rubs up and down her skin encouragingly. “I can do that. Tell me if you like something I do, or if you don’t.”

She nods.

He drags her body to the edge of the bed and he kneels on the floor.

“Woah,” she says.

He looks up at her, a pleased smile there. “Put your feet on my shoulders.”

She complies.

“Good girl,” he says absentmindedly.

The compliment makes her cunt clench.

“Very good girl,” he says, seeing arousal beginning to drip out of her.

His face at the same level with her pussy, his hands go underneath her hips, gripping the upper thighs to spread her open. Then he leans in with his nose, and nuzzles her thighs, his breath making her shiver. He inhales deeply. “You smell so good,” he murmurs.

But he doesn’t start lapping at her. Instead, he places a kiss above her pubic hair, and then on her thighs, getting closer and closer to her labia, while his thumbs rub soothing circles into her skin.

She whimpers. “Ben.” Not to spur him on, not a complaint, she just wants to say it, to test it into the air. It sounds nice. Ben is a very nice name.

He hums, then noses her labia, running soft rings around her, never quite making contact with the zones she wants.

It causes her clit to pulse.

“Ben,” she says again. A hand migrates to clutch the hair she’s always wanted to touch. Just as soft as it seems.

He groans.

Arousal seeps out of her.

Ben darts his tongue out and softly – ever so softly – drags his tongue across her pussy, picking up the beads of her.

“Oh,” she says, her whole body very warm now, tingling.

“Fuck.” He catches her eye. “Rey, you taste so fucking good.” He says it a little pained, as if this were the worst-case scenario. “Fuck.”

He dives in for more, still keeping with the gentle movements, but now a wildness accompanies them. One of his arms goes around her hip and lays across her lower stomach, the heaviness making it so she can’t move away.Not that she’d even want to.

She’d rather die than move away from what Ben’s doing to her.

Her legs slip, so that the heels of her feet rest on his back.

“Ben,” she moans.

He swipes his tongue across her over and over in different patterns, trying to catch more of the arousal escaping her pussy.

A finger pushes her labia back, allowing him to better place his puffy lips over her cunt. He drags his tongue up and down inside of her. Sweet licks that slowly journey over her every ridge, coaxing more and more out of her.

“Such a sweet little cunt you have,” he groans.

Once it seems like he can stand it, he brings his tongue to the area around her clit, painting sweet circles around her, using her moans to pinpoint the paths that make her feel good. His tongue runs zigzags over her clit, long licks, before migrating back to the teasing circles until she feels like she might combust.

“Inside,” she gasps out, trying to control her bucking hips. “A finger. Inside.”

This man is very good at following instructions.

He slowly eases one finger into her body. “What do you think Rey?” He places a kiss on her clit. “Do you think I’ve earned your g-spot, yet?”

Everything about her body is desperate. She’s not sure how long it’s been – he’s made time disappear. She wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve completely escaped time and were loosely floating in their own universe.

Eyes dark and hooded, hair in his face. She was right; his passion, when aimed at her, is stifling. Seeing him between her thighs makes her clench.

He clearly feels it on his forefinger. His eyes roll back, and with the movement the light shifts slightly to show his lips stained by her arousal.

“How do you like this, sweetheart?”

Her chest warms at the endearment.

“Huh?”

The finger slowly goes in and out. “Is this the way you like it?” His voice gravelly.

She’s feverish. “Yeah. Like that.”

“My mouth, too? My mouth on that cute little clit of yours?”

Her face crumbles, the pressure too much. “Please,” she barely gets out.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”

With every slow, deliberate kiss he gives her clit, she quivers around his finger. Part of her wants him to speed it up, but another part of her wants him to take his time. Doesn’t want this to be over.

And then he finds her g-spot.

A keening sound unlike any she’s ever made rings across the room. She closes her eyes, arm flung over her face. Is she crying? She thinks she might be crying. Her hips chasing his mouth wildly.

But he doesn’t change his pace. He keeps going.

Slow. Deliberate.

Tears stream down her face.

He uses his tongue again and flares of heat go through her. She’s getting close. Her body jerking wildly.

“Please keep going. Please don’t stop. Please. Please.” She’s incoherent, rambling at him.

The arm sprawled across her lower stomach is firmer in weighing her down, keeping her in place.

The finger inside of her gently presses down on her g-spot, developing a rhythm in tandem with the machinations of his tongue.

Wave after wave of heat runs up and down her body. Out of control, limbs flailing, her cunt spasms around his fingers.

When her orgasm subsides, Ben slips the finger out from inside her and licks it clean. He places kisses on her upper thighs while aftershocks go through her.

Once her heart rate stabilizes, she props herself up on her elbows. “Ben.”

He crawls up the bed to lay next to her. “Rey.”

Too worn out to give into his light mocking, she heaves herself onto her side. “Ben. You’re like … the pussy whisperer.”

He snorts. “I’m really not.” His lips are almost swollen from exertion.

She wants to kiss him.

“You practically made me into a squirter.”

A fully belly laugh comes out of him. “Not exactly, but I’ll take the compliment.”

His chest looks so warm. She wants his branch-like arms to hold her. To feel the heat of his skin pressed against hers.

But she’s usually like this after sex; needing to be held.

Though it vaguely kills her to do it, she uses her elbows to prop her shaky body into a sitting position. “Well, I should go.”

An expression flickers across Ben’s face, but before she can decipher it, he gives a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

She nods, but internally the comment brings her up short.

How will she survive 29 more days of this?

 

Day 4 ABM

This is Rey’s first time voting in the District.

It’s 7:30 a.m. and she’s standing with Finn and Poe in a long line outside an elementary school in their neighborhood.

“Fuck,” Finn says. “At this rate, I’ll be late for work.”

She can’t help gloating. “I don’t have to be in until noon.” She works at an environmental lobbying firm which gave its employees a couple hours off to vote, if needed.

“We get it,” says Poe. “You work for hemp-loving radicals while we toil under The Man.”

Poe’s fairing the worst out of the three of them. He’s not a morning person. She fully expected him to crap out of their voting plans, which they made three weeks ago. But the magic of Finn has him standing with them, dark circles under his eyes, clutching at his thermos full of coffee.

She is feeling great this morning. Last night, Ben made her come so hard she’s positive she paid a visit to every star in the Big Dipper. She still wants to cuddle afterward (and kiss). That hasn’t changed. But in every other aspect, this bet is one of the best things that’s ever happened to her. (Probably.)

“Ben’s smart,” Poe says. “Voting absentee. Wish I’d never registered in D.C.”

Ben’s stayed registered in Ohio; he mailed in his absentee ballot two weeks ago.

“Why did you let me register in D.C.?” Poe glares at Finn.

Rey bites her lip.

Finn, to his credit, remains bored with Poe’s antics. Which is probably why they’ve been together for so many years.

“When you registered here four years ago,” Finn says, “I told you not to. You’re so grumpy. Drink your coffee.”

Her bottom lip is almost bleeding she’s biting it so hard.

They shuffle forward a few people.

“Should’ve made up an excuse,” Poe says. “Then I could’ve voted absentee, too.”

She can’t help it; she giggles. At her expression, Finn’s lips start to curve upwards, so he looks away.

“Isn’t this beautiful?” she says. “American Democracy at its finest.”

Poe grumbles. “It would be even finer mid-day.”

“It’ll be at its finest tonight.” Finn pushes Poe forward. “Ben said he would grab the beers.”

“I’ll order the pizza,” she says.

“God, I hate those beers,” Poe says. Still determined to be in a bad mood.

She shrugs. “They’ve grown on me.”

“I’ll bet they have.”

Finn bumps him hard with his shoulder.

She chooses not to respond.

***

The boys were glued to the TV when she went down to meet the delivery guy. However, as she opens the apartment door with her back, four boxes of pizza and a house salad in tow, Ben is up immediately.

“Here, let me,” he says.

Their fingers meet while he tries to get a grip on the load in her arms. One hand accidentally grazes her boob. They freeze, looking at each with identical expressions of horror. Unfortunately, her nipple hardens.

God, this’ll be a long night.

They eventually set the boxes and salad down on the kitchen counter.

Low tones of ABC election coverage filter in and out of her ears, but she’s focused on Ben, the way he looks at her.

He licks his lips. “Actually, I have something I want to show you. In my room.”

Her heart rate hitches slightly. “Oh. Yes. Let’s, um, go to your room then.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. She follows him down the hall and into the room.

In a move she previously thought exclusive to movies, he pushes her up against the door as soon as it closes. For a moment, it seems like he might kiss her, but he must think better of it, because he drops to his knees.

Fingers undoing the button on her jeans and then the zipper, he says, “We need to be quick today, okay?” His voice is almost teasing, but she’s too busy shimmying her hips to help him take down her pants to notice.

She nods. “Yes. Yes. Okay.”

Her pants and underwear are flung across the room (narrowly avoiding a collision between his nose and her knee).

Without preamble, he directs her legs open, and then burrows his face into the seam between a leg and her labia. Breathing in deeply. It would almost be weird, but he’s so into it. At least, he seems into it. Then his tongue licks a wide stripe where his nose is, not even minding the stubble. As much as she’s trying to keep a clean bikini line for him, sometimes the hair grows back a little too fast.

He moves to the other side and does the same, before pressing kisses to the mouth of her labia – a stark contrast to his earlier words of speed.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he says.

“Really?” She leans heavily against the door, trying not to squirm too much and make it rattle.

“Mmhmm.”  He guides a leg over his shoulder, causing her to awkwardly hop for a second to regain balance. “I want to suck you dry.”

Before she can laugh, he’s circling her pussy with his tongue, tracing it as her wetness seeps out, catching it. His movements alternate pace and path around her entrance, until she’s dripping so much that he attaches his mouth. Her hips undulate with each suck. His tongue breaches her entrance, coercing more of her arousal to come out.

He goes on like this for, god, she doesn’t even know. It could be 30 seconds or a handful of minutes. It feels good, but it’s not letting her build to an orgasm. Just when she’s about to yank his head up and direct some of his energy to her clit, he groans. It’s muffled by her pussy, but the vibrations of it cause her clit to twinge.

So, really, how can she pull him away?

When she places a finger around her clit, the movement bumps his nose. His eyes open, his pupils so dilated she can’t make out a single fleck of brown. Strings of her wetness cling to his lips as he brings his mouth away. “Need something?”

“Ben.” Her lips (upper and lower) tremble.

“Okay, okay. I’ve got you.” His tongue focuses on making patterns around her clit, finally letting the heat in her body build until she comes.

When Ben stands, he tries to subtly adjust himself, though it just draws attention to his very visible erection. The last couple of times he was hard afterwards, but she felt too awkward to offer anything.

Pushing off from the door, she gestures to his erection. “Want me to help out?”

He blinks for a moment, then takes a step back. “No, that’s not—you shouldn’t—the rules.”

This is probably a good reminder for her: this is a transaction. So, why does a coldness fill her chest? Why do her eyes burn?

Somehow, she started to think Ben might actually like this arrangement. The things he says, the devotion he pays to her body. They’ve certainly done a number on her. But maybe those things he says when he’s eating her out, maybe that’s all they are. Things he says. Just trying to get her in the mood so he can fulfill his duty.

“Right,” she says. “Of course. The rules.” She shuffles to the side so he can open her door, keeping her head down to avoid eye contact. “See you out there.”

From her peripheral vision, he nods and leaves.

Her first sign that something’s wrong is when she comes out of her room half an hour later, and Ben has his head in his hands.

As she goes to the sofa where Finn and Poe are, Finn sends her a pained look. “This isn’t looking too good, Peanut.”

 

Day 11 ABM

She should probably be more depressed. To be fair, she is quite sad about the state of the world. Going into work, walking around the District, the mood is somber. Even Rose Tico, her co-worker and very good friend, is depressing to be around, and she has a whole blog dedicated to reviewing romcoms. It’s usually hard to get Rose down, but the impending threat of fascism is enough to make anyone sad.

So, she probably should be more depressed. But she’s actually doing all right. Ben’s mouth is the main perpetrator of her good mood. This is a transaction, she has to remind herself. And you’re coming out on top. Maybe it’s a woman thing, but she feels like her relationship with Ben is now imbalanced, like she owes him something. That’s another thing she has to remind herself of: he signed up for this. He agreed.

In the evenings (and sometimes the mornings) she has Ben’s magic mouth. She hasn’t asked to help out with his arousal again, though. Best to stick with the rules, so things don’t get muddled.

Still, there are little moments here and there. This past weekend, the four of them went to an art exhibition in Adams Morgan. While wading through the throngs of drunk millennials, Ben had kept his hand on her lower back. Or, in the kitchen Rey was standing in front of the toaster oven, and Ben gently moved her away from a drawer he needed by placing his hands on her side. Her shirt had ridden up, so she felt the warmth of his hands on her skin.

But he’d have done those things before. Right?

It’s hard to say. The orgasms muddle everything.

So, she tries not to collect these small moments. Or dwell on them.

Day 11 of this is a Tuesday, a workday, and all four of them are bouncing around the kitchen in the morning.

Well, all of them except Ben, who always gets up at the right time and doesn’t ever dawdle. He’s timed his morning perfectly (as usual), so he’s sitting at their kitchen counter, Washington Post in hand, sipping coffee from his mug.

With the same mouth that has …

Yeah.

She flushes, going back to the task at hand: getting a mug from the cupboard. Except, whoever emptied the dishwasher last put the normal mugs on the high shelf and Ben’s fancy, ceramic mugs on the low shelf.

Poe’s in front of the toaster while Finn digs through the fridge, presumably to find those Norwegian yogurts he likes, somewhere behind Rey’s Yoplaits.

Stretching on her tiptoes, she still can’t reach. She’s the same height as Finn and Poe, which means Ben put the mugs away. Every so often he does this, and every time he gets in trouble.

“For Christ’s sake, Rey,” he says. “Just use one of mine.”

All movement in the kitchen ceases.

Rey – very slowly – turns around.

Finn and Poe look at him with mouths wide open, eyes stunned. Rey’s positive she’s doing a great imitation of a fish.

Taking in their three scandalized expressions, Ben scowls harder than normal. “Seriously, you three are the worst. I can never do anything nice—”

Mischief gleams in Poe’s eyes as his face adopts its usual expression: a slight smile with the message, I know something you don’t. And this morning he’s aimed it at his favorite recipient: Ben.

Finn and Rey don’t give him big enough reactions when he needles them, which means he reserves all of his pestering energy for Ben.

Ben just makes it so easy for Poe.

Poe cuts him off. “When your mom sent those for your birthday two years ago, you said, and I quote, ‘I’ll cut your dicks off before letting you maim perfectly good Amish workmanship.’”

Ben rolls his eyes. “I’m sure I didn’t say that.”

“You did,” Poe says, his expression positively giddy. “I wrote it down. I have a whole notes page on my phone dedicated to things you’ve said.”

Finn has returned to rummaging through the fridge, clearly bored with the direction of the conversation. He tips his head out again at this, though, to confirm. “It’s true. Sometimes he reads them aloud before bed.”

Ben’s ghostly complexion has turned red.

“Ben,” she says. “Are you sure? I don’t want to put you out.”

His eyes lose their venom. “You’re not. It’s my fault, anyway, that you can’t reach the mugs.” Peering down at his watch, he folds his newspaper. “And with that, I’m leaving.”

A few moments later, the front door slams.

The three look at each other and grin.

“I can’t believe Ben’s letting me use his mug!” She does a fist pump.

Poe snorts. “I can.”

Finn elbows him hard in the side.

“Ow!” Poe yelps.

A cold sensation trickles down her spine. Poe and Finn never bring up the bet, so she thought they forgot about it. She should know better. It’s not like Poe, though, to pass up the opportunity to tease someone, especially when that someone is Ben. What’s his angle?

“What?” she asks. “What does that mean?”

Finn shoots Poe a warning look. “Nothing. It means nothing.”

Poe rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. It means nothing, Peanut.”

 

Day 14 ABM

It’s Friday. Not just that, but it’s the Friday before Thanksgiving. So close to the weekend (and her upcoming vacation time) that her focus isn’t there. If she plays this right, once her boss lets them out of the meeting, she could finish the few case summaries she has left and head home early. Miss the rush hour surge on the metro.

Her phone vibrates quite audibly. Everyone around the conference table looks at her. She blushes, reaching into her pocket. “Sorry, guys.”

She can see the messages on the screen as she silences it.

Benjamin Solo

(3:23 PM) I’m can’t stop thinking of your cunt.

Another one pops up:

(3:23 PM) I’m sitting at my desk, and I’m so hard.

The embarrassment of interrupting her meeting vanishes. In its place is a low ache. Ben’s mouth plays on repeat in her mind. Thank god she’s wearing a thick bra today because all of a sudden, her nipples are hard.

“Rey?” her boss Phasma asks. “Are you with us?”

As if from a daze, Rey looks up from her phone, realizing she never put it away. “Yes. I’m so sorry. I don’t—yeah, sorry.”

Rose frowns at her.

A few minutes later, Phasma calls out Mitaka for not giving his full concentration. This makes Rey feel marginally better. Though, it’s also clear she won’t be able to leave early.

When the meeting lets out, she gets up, her heartbeat pounding. Her fingers itch to check her phone.

Rose sidles up to her, grinning. “That must’ve been some text.”

Their desks are next to each other, so there’s no way for Rey to avoid her. “Oh, it was nothing. Just a CNN news alert.”

Rose raises an eyebrow. “A CNN news alert made you blush like that?”

 

“Yup.” God, she’s not the least bit convincing.

“Alright.” Rose smiles. “Let’s get brunch this weekend. I could use a pick me up.”

Plopping down in her desk chair, Rey says, “Yeah, sounds great.”

She takes out her phone and angles it carefully so that no one can read it over her shoulder.

when do u get home? ill be back by 5:30 (3:33 PM)

His response is immediate.

(3:33 PM) Me, too. Meet then?

Rose coughs. Rey looks up at her, catching a shit-eating grin on her face.

“News alert my ass,” Rose says.

Rey can’t stop her own matching grin from surfacing. “Yeah, yeah.”

perfect (3:35 PM)

(3:35 PM) I’m not sure how I’ll survive.

In a moment of pure genius, Rey texts back:

ill make it worth ur while ;) (3:36 PM)

“If you think,” Rose says, “I’m not gonna grill you about this, you’re out of your mind.”

***

Ben’s taken off his suit coat and has the sleeves of his light blue button-down rolled up to his elbows. Hair in his face, eyes black, he lunges for her. “Take your fucking pants off,” he growls in her ear.

She’d laugh if she weren’t so pent up. He tugs at her waistband. She works to keep up, trying to get off her bottoms as quickly as possible. Then he deposits her on his bed. At this point, Ben has making her come down to an art. He won’t have to warm her up much today.

“Those texts were so hot,” she says, voice higher in pitch than usual.

He’s nosing at her crotch, but at this he looks up, jaw flexed. “Yeah? You liked that?”

She nods.

One of his hands sneaks up below her shirt and lands on her stomach. The heat of his skin on hers sends shivers up her spine.

“You liked knowing I fucked my hand at work? That I need your cunt that badly?”

A moan unlike any other comes out of her mouth. With that, he buries his face in her pussy.

He gets her off in record time. The texts, his disheveled appearance, the absolute need in his eyes as he maintains eye contact, and the assiduous fervor of his tongue and his fingers. He has her cunt spasming within minutes. 

He moves up the bed to lay with her, facing her, but not touching. When she shifts her leg, it brushes against his erection. He emits a small noise.

It’s all she needs; touching his chest, her fingers trail down his shirt to rest right above the button of his pants.

“Rey,” he says.

They’re so close, she could lean in and kiss him, their noses just a hair’s breadth away.

“You’ve been so hard for me,” she says quietly. “All day.”

His eyes search hers. The painful hope in them encourages her. Her pointer finger traces up and down his zipper.

He whimpers. “It doesn’t—you don’t have to. That’s not what this—”

“The rules are no reciprocation.” Her heart is leaping out of her chest. What will she do if he says no? How will she ever look him in the eyes again? “So, I won’t use my mouth, okay? Just my hand.”

Voice shaky, he says, “Okay. If you want. Only if you want to.”

“Please let me touch you.”

He shuffles his pants down and lays on his back. “Get the lube out of my bedside drawer.”

She finds it easily. Turning around, she sees Ben’s erection: thick and red, precum glossing the tip. She wants to taste him, feel him against her tongue. For the first time in her life, she wants to blow someone, and she’s not allowed to.

Her cunt clenches, imagining how he’d stretch her. She shuts down that line of thinking immediately, even though it’d be so easy to straddle his hips and take him inside of her, her pussy still exposed. The very idea of the mushroom head of his dick notching softly into her cunt has her dripping again, despite her recent orgasm.

If he asked her to, she’d ride him.

But he won’t.

Because this is the outcome of a bet.

She lies on her side, leaning on top of him slightly, hooking a leg over his. She nestles her head on top of his shoulder, lips near his neck.

“You’re so thick,” she says.

He mewls.

She drags her nose up and down his neck. “Can I touch you?”

“Yes,” he hisses.

Her hand reaches down, and lightly fists it, making it twitch.

He puts his arm around her, moving so that their eyes are on the same level. Noses touching. His other hand reaches across her to get the lube she deposited on the sheets.

His breath is minty. Why did she ever say that lips were off limits? Why? She curses her past self.

“Let me,” she says.

She squeezes a few drops of lube onto her palm, and then wraps the hand around his cock, lightly pumping up and down to get it moist enough for the friction.

His cock swells.

“Tease the tip with your thumb,” Ben says.

She does, rubbing the pearly beads of precum over the thick cockhead.

“Fuck. Never could’ve dreamed of this. Speed up a little.”

Ben’s very vocal in her ear, but her eyes are glued to the piece of his anatomy in her hand.

“Tighter,” he says.

Her thighs rub together without her realizing. “Show me how you like it.”

He breathes heavily through his nose and places his free hand over hers, completely dwarfing it. He squeezes her fist tighter around him, demonstrating the rhythm he prefers, a tight twist up the tip.

“Fuck, your hand looks so good in mine. So tiny.”

Her head turns back to him, and they’re close, his hand continuing the motions with hers beneath, while they stare at each other. Nipples puckered, she wishes he could see what he does to her.

Their movements quicken. He exhales speedy huffs that she wants to swallow with her mouth.

She doesn’t, of course. She has no way of knowing if he’d even want her to. Sure, her hand is on his cock, but the guy’s probably been desperate for it the last two weeks. His arousal has less to do with her and more to do with someone helping him get off. So, he wouldn’t want her to kiss him.

But he did try to kiss her that first time. It was her who held him back.

But maybe he thought she expected kissing. Maybe he was relieved when she said no.

“I’m gonna come, Rey. I’m gonna come in your tight little hand, wishing it was—” He bites his lip before he can end the sentence. His face is screwed up tight, like he’s in pain.

His cum leaks all over their hands. He lets out a low groan, his hips bucking up. “Thank you, Rey.”

 

Day 16 ABM

One mimosa in, and she’s told Rose everything. Well, not the more intimate details, but the vague idea. And how hard he makes her come.

It’s been difficult keeping it to herself; she can’t talk to Finn and Poe. Or, for that matter, Ben.

But there’s something about Rose that makes Rey want to divulge her whole life’s secrets (not that there are many to divulge).

Rose has dragged her to a place in Takoma Park. Apparently, Rose has been waiting to try their avocado toast. “It’s the gold standard of millennial foods,” she said to Rey.

“Last night, he finally let me …” Rey looks over at the table next to them. Confident the couple isn’t listening, she continues. “Reciprocate. Sort of. With my hand.”

Rose is enthralled. “This is better than Bridget Jones’s Baby.”

Rey rolls her eyes. “This isn’t some romcom you can rate on your blog.”

Rose rolls her eyes right back. “If this isn’t a romcom, then why is there so much easily resolvable angst? Besides, you wish I could rate this on my blog. It’s been getting a lot of hits since my review of Me Before You.”

“The point,” Rey says, “is that my life is not a romcom.” She takes a few more sips of her mimosa. “But it was so nice to do something for him. I really liked it. I even …” She’s too embarrassed to say it out loud, but Rose is clearly on the edge of her seat. “I wanted to use my mouth.”

Rose squeals in delight. “Oh my goodness! That must be one pretty dick.”

Rey can’t help laughing. “No. Well, yes, but that wasn’t why. I just wanted to make him feel good. He’s made me feel,” she whistles, “like no one else ever has. I want to be that for him, too. But those aren’t the terms.”

Rose narrows her eyes, her mouth open in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? Who cares about the terms? Ride this man all the way to Bone Town, population two!”

“I don’t think he’d want that,” Rey says. Her stomach growls. Where’s the food? Why does Rose make her go to places with bad service?

Rose dramatically smacks her head down on the table, then keeps it there. “Rey,” she moans from her new spot. “Reeeeey.”

The couple Rey observed just moments earlier looks over with concern.

“Please get up,” she says, worried that more customers might notice.

“I’ll lift my head if you promise not to be so stoopid.”

Rey snorts. “I’m not being stupid, I’m being prudent.”

“You’re stoopid with two ‘o’s, I swear.” Rose lifts her head. Her sleek bob shimmies with every disapproving shake. “Do you remember the Super Bowl party you and your roommates threw last year?”

Rey frowns at the change in topic, but she does remember. The guys invited some work colleagues, friends from college. Rey had only lived in D.C. for around seven months, so she didn’t have anyone to invite but Rose.

“I didn’t say anything to you then because I thought you knew. But now I know you didn’t know. You don’t know. Which is why you’re being so stoopid.”

Totally lost, Rey just stares.

“You like Ben.” Rose says it very matter-of-factly, but also kindly, despite her assertions that Rey is stoopid.  

All breath has evaporated. Rey’s lungs work shallowly to get some back, while a shaky feeling goes through her limbs. It must be low blood sugar. Where is the food?

“No,” she says. “I think I’d know if I liked someone.”

A peal of laughter comes from across the table. Rose is smiling again. “If only. If only. During that party, if you weren’t talking to him, you were talking about him. I thought maybe you weren’t going to say anything because you two lived together, but then you renewed the lease. And now this. I mean, honestly, Rey, you wouldn’t have done this with any of your other roommates.”

“No,” Rey concedes the last point. “But to be fair, Finn and Poe are gay and in a relationship. So.”

“I’m so glad you have two brain cells. I think they’d get lonely without each other.”

Rey glares. “You’re really on a roll this morning, Tico.”

“I’m just saying,” Rose says, “that you like like Ben.”

“Oh god, now I’m about to smack my head.”

“Sorry, only one per table.”

It’s true that her chest gets warm when she thinks of Ben. And that shivers go down her spine. And every time he touches her (the innocent kind of touching) her skin burns from the contact. And he’s incredibly good looking, even his crooked smile. And she wants to eat his cooking all the time. And possibly live in his bed.

But.

Ben would probably not like that.

So, Rey tells Rose that Ben most likely doesn’t feel the same way, which causes Rose what appears to be a minor breakdown.

“You are without a doubt a newb,” Rose says, throwing her hands up in the air. “Why do you think Ben agreed to this?”

“Um.”

“Because he would also like to ride you to Bone Town, population two. Homeboy’s signed up to eat you out for 30 days without reciprocation. I know you gave him a handy, but those are the terms, right? Nothing else in return?”

Rey flushes, then nods.

“Literally what man would do that for someone he only wants to be friends with? Or let it go on this long?” Rose gestures emphatically. “Most guys would probably only last a few days, if they agreed to do it at all.”

“Oh. I guess that’s true.” But Rose’s point scares her.

“You guess?” Rose’s eye twitches. “You guess? Yes, Rey! I bring up Super Bowl 2016 once again because it is the only time I’ve seen you two interact, but he hovered the whole night.”

Rey vaguely recalls that she spent most of the party with Ben and Rose. But Ben was just being a good host, coming over to make sure Rose (and by proxy, Rey, despite also being a host) had enough to drink, or if they wanted more of his nachos.

She doesn’t say this to Rose, because she’d probably tell Rey to stop being dumb.

“Are you sure—”

“Yes.” No wiggle room. “Yes, I’m sure. Rey, that boy is so far up your ass he’s coming out of your throat.”

“And I like him?” She feels very stoopid asking that question aloud. Because shouldn’t she know?

But maybe she always has.

The smile Rose gives is a nice one. It’s soft and encouraging and makes it all the way up to her eyes, twinkling with reassurance. “Yes.”

Rey responds the only way she knows how: “Fuck.”

 

Day 20 ABM

Since Sunday Brunch, Rey has been dancing around the realization she came to with Rose. It’s made things incredibly awkward with Ben, knowing that she likes him.

God, she’s so oblivious.

And there’s no one to blame but herself.

She keeps busy to avoid thinking about him so much. Yesterday, Wednesday, the pie-making process began, which was good. Today, Thanksgiving itself, should’ve been pretty busy, except that she – pie-maker – and Ben – Turkey God – are stuck in the kitchen together.

Ben insisted on doing the turkey. Apparently, his father was quite the turkey guy, and taught him everything he knows.

Finn and Poe entertain the guests on the couch with the football game on. Rose sits on one end, while some guy from Ben’s office (who Ben only ever refers to as “Hux” with a hostile tone) inhabits Ben’s chair.

Ben attempts to make conversation with Rey, but she’s like a feral animal, completely unable to look him in the eyes.

At one point he moves past her, his shoulder brushing her back, and she jumps in the air.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

She gives a non-committal hum, to which he responds with an unconvinced look.

Eventually, he stops trying to engage in conversation.

She’s just gotten the pies in the oven when Rose comes over. At first, Rey thinks it’s because she could sense the tension.

It’s not.

“So,” Rose says, looking at Ben. “That guy. Hux? How long, um, have you been friends?”

He snorts. Rey almost misses what he says, because he bends over to check on the turkey, treating her to a very nice view of his ass.

“We’re not.” Satisfied that the turkey is chugging along, he shoves the oven door closed, then surveys the living room area, thanks to the open floor plan of the apartment, where the three guys are. “God, has he said something to you? Something offensive?”

Rose frowns. “Is that something he does often?”

His nostrils flare. “Yes. Unfortunately. If he says anything to you, let me know. I’d love an excuse to kick him out.”

Rose continues to frown, staring uncomprehendingly up at him. “I know I don’t know you that well, but it seems like maybe you don’t really like him.” She lowers her voice at that last part. “So why would you invite him to a major holiday?”

He rolls his eyes. “In a meeting the other day, everyone was discussing Thanksgiving plans. When he didn’t have any, all eyes were on me. Like, ‘You’re just with your roommates, why not invite Hux?’ No one said it, but I knew that’s what they were all thinking. Never mind that the guy’s awful.”

Rose looks at him for a moment. “That’s terrible reasoning.”

He nods. “You’re right.”

“Like, really and truly terrible reasoning.” It’s almost a question, as though she can’t believe he’d cave so easily to the pressure.

He nods again.

“Given the choice between saying nothing and saying something, you made the wrong one.” Then she giggles.

Ben joins in.

And so does Rey.

The rest of the early afternoon passes like this; Rose in the kitchen area with Rey and Ben, (unintentionally) mitigating any weirdness Rey feels. She’s able to just enjoy her friends, rather than freak herself out over anything.

The meal itself goes pretty well, too. Hux doesn’t say anything outwardly offensive (though there are a few close calls). By the time the guests go home (Hux before helping with the cleanup) it’s almost 11.

“It’s time for me,” Finn says, placing a hand on Poe’s chest, “to get this geezer to bed.”

Poe grins. “I love being a kept man.”

Ben wipes down the counters and Rey puts the last of the food in the fridge. She braces for an awkward pause, but instead is met with a meaningful look from him.

“Yours or mine?” he asks.

Her anxiety dissipates, because right now his face has that pure determination it gets when he’s between her thighs.

“Mine,” she says.

He nods, pleased. “Okay, give me a few minutes.”

In her room, she checks her messages and finds that Rose texted her immediately after leaving.

(11:12 pm) he has it just as bad as u !!! get ur man !!!

She gets a stupidly (stoopidly) happy grin at the prospect of “getting” her man. Ben was just so fun today. She loved watching him joke around with Rose, the two of them making fun of Hux. It means a lot that he gets along with her (only) friend.

The small smiles he sent her way when no one was watching.

Maybe Rose is right. So, she takes off her clothes. All of them. Goosebumps erupt across her breasts from the cool air. Hopefully he won’t notice. Hopefully he’ll be pleased to see her whole body.

When Ben walks in, she’s completely naked, draped across her bed. He immediately slams the door shut, keeping his back against it. Not coming any closer. His breathing grows labored. The tortured look he gets when they do this is on his face.

“Fuck,” he says.

She smirks. “Is this okay?”

He snaps out of his stupor. He strides across the few feet between them then sits down on the bed, taking in her body below him. “God. Yes. It’s … yes. It’s amazing. Are you sure? You don’t have to do this. Just the pants is okay with me.”

Every pass his eyes make down her body is a stroke to her clit. It puckers her nipples. She’s starting to writhe a bit. Even though she’s so much smaller than him, she feels powerful.

“You don’t like my tits?” she teases. Her fingers go up to pluck her nipples.

He groans. “Fuck.”

“You make me come so hard,” she says, “I thought you deserved a reward.”

Ben is in absolute agony. It’s plain on his face just how much he likes this. “You don’t need to reward me.” It sounds like it physically hurts him to say that.

In an absolute moment of genius, she places one of his hands over her boob. “They don’t feel good to you?”

His eyes are wide, staring at how his hand completely covers her breast. His massive bear paw. She puts a hand over his and makes him squeeze.

It feels so good to have his hands on her skin. On her nipple. She moans.

His expression is totally floored that this is happening. 

“You don’t want to play with them?”

His eyes dart to her face. “What?”

She smiles a little. “My tits. You don’t want to play with them?” Her legs part slightly, the movement catching his attention and directing it to her pussy. “You already play with my cunt so well, Ben.” Her clit pulses under his gaze – arousal now oozing out of her. “You don’t think you deserve my tits, too?”

He looks lost, like this is too much.

Her confidence wavers. She’s naked on her bed, and she had to place his hand on her boob. And he isn’t doing anything. Before she lets herself fall too far down the rabbit hole, she surveys his eyes. They’re hungry. He wants this. He just doesn’t know how. Maybe.

“Do you not like my body?” she teases again.

His eyes almost pop out of his head. “No. I mean yes. Your body is … Rey. Your body is …”

Her self-assuredness from a few minutes ago returns in full force. “If you like my body so much, why aren’t you touching it?”

His eyes flash. He replaces his hand with his mouth, sucking noisily on one nipple, suctioning it so hard he’s pulling her up from the mattress, while the other nipple is getting kneaded and tugged by his hand. Then he switches.

It’s so good, she holds his head to her chest, roughly grabbing his hair with her fingers, gyrating her hips wildly, him now between her legs. “Love your mouth, Ben, so good.”                       

With the praise, his teeth enter the arena.

“Fuck. Fuck.” Her hips can’t stop rubbing against his clothed stomach, searching for any kind of friction.

One of his hands snakes down to her clit, and without any of the finesse he’s learned, he just rubs violently back and forth.

She gasps.

He looks at her, sucking one of her nipples – practically the whole breast – into his mouth.

It only takes a few moments to come.

Then she flips them over, straddling his waist, unzipping his jeans so that his cock is free. She looks at his face, while she dips her a hand into her cunt. Fighting the fatigue of her orgasm, she gathers up as much of her wetness as she can. She smears it across her hand, then pumps his cock, using herself as lube.

“This okay?” she asks.

He nods vigorously. “Yes. God, yes. Whatever you want.”

Following the lesson he gave her that first time, she gets him off the same way she has for the past few days. She takes her cues off of him, not breaking eye contact, until he comes all over her tits.

 

Day 24 ABM

Over the course of the weekend, Ben enjoys her naked body. He spends a large amount of time getting acquainted with her tits. It mesmerizes him when they pucker at his ministrations. With his mouth relentlessly sucking at her clit, he watches her tits bounce.

She in a great mood once it’s Monday. She’s been existing in a sex bubble – one confined to cunnilingus and handy js – and maybe it shows. There is a nice glow to her skin, the glow of a woman getting off consistently by the best mouth in the DMV.

Rose notices as soon as she gets in. She makes Rey come with her for an office coffee run, despite the seniority of their positions. “Let the poor interns rest,” she says.

They’re in line at the coffeeshop at the base of their building.

“I can’t believe you didn’t text me back all weekend. I was dying, Rey. I was deceased, with only Bebe for company,” Rose says. “It’s a miracle I didn’t suffocate on his hairballs.”

Rey wrinkles her nose. “Gross.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now let’s get to the good stuff. Did you tell him? Did he make sweet, passionate love to you all weekend?” She looks a second away from taking notes.

“No,” Rey says. “I did not do that. But we definitely spent all weekend together.”

Crushed between people, she doesn’t want to say too much.

Rose doesn’t feel the same. “But you didn’t get dicked down.”

The man in front looks back at them, lips pursed, then faces forward again.

Rose rolls her eyes. “Give poor, sweet, innocent Ben—”

Rey snorts. Ben is no innocent.

“—a rest. The guy would clearly do anything for you. I guarantee it would make his day.”

There’s always the bit of Rey, though, that’s never quite recovered from being abandoned by her parents. She should probably be past it or something, considering her adoptive mother, Maz, made her go to therapy from age ten until college. After Maz’s death, her abandonment issues flared up again. Sure, it’s not as bad as it once was, but it’s not great.

So, Ben not reciprocating her feelings would be painful to say the least. Even worse would be him returning those sentiments, then leaving her somewhere down the line. That would be agonizing. Neither is a great option. It’s getting hard to tell, anyway, if he likes her or the orgasms.

God, she is so fatalistic. She sees how Ben looks at her. Even if it is just because of the orgasms, he probably feels something for her by now.

Instead of explaining any of this back and forth – Rose only knows the vague idea of her childhood and Rey would rather not relive it during work hours – Rey nods. “You’re probably right.”

Rose’s jaw drops at this reversal. “What was that? I, Rose Tico, am right?”

“You’re probably right,” Rey says. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Rose narrows her eyes. “You’re not going to say anything, are you.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. She knows Rey too well at this point.

Close to tears, Rey says, “No.”

They stand in silence for a few moments, adjusting with the movement of the line.

Eventually, Rose says, “Promise me you’ll tell him. You don’t have to do it today or tomorrow but do it soon.”

“Are you now a psychic as well as a movie critic?” asks Rey.

She shakes her head. “No. I don’t want to push you. I think I’ve been doing that a little, so I’m sorry. But I think you and Ben would be really good together. You deserve to be happy.”

***

It’s quick this time. When they get home from work, Ben makes her come with his mouth, and then she once again returns the favor with her hands. They’re on their backs, her completely naked and him with his shirt off, but cock tucked back into his pants. The urge to kiss him is still there, as is the need to be held. Despite the fact that they spent the weekend together, they haven’t touched each other afterwards.

She shifts her head, looking at him. The desire to feel his arms around her, gathered up, is greater than the one to feel his lips. She wants the warmth of his bare skin all around her. “Um, hey, do you think maybe you could, like, hold me?”

Something melts a little in his eyes. “Of course.” He pulls her into him, strong arms holding her to his chest. Her cheek against his pec. A hand rubbing her lower back. A kiss to her scalp.

Asking for what she wants, as it turns out, is not as difficult as it is in her mind.

“Sorry,” she says, fighting the urge to lick his nipple nearby.

“Why?”

She can feel his gentle exhalations and the reverberation of his voice in his chest. “I get kind of clingy after stuff like this.”

There’s a grin in his voice. “Stuff like what?”

“You’re impossible.” She smiles against his skin. How can he smell so good?

“This is nice” he says. “I like cuddling after stuff like this, too.”

She nuzzles his chest. “Give me a few minutes, then I’ll hold you.”

 

Day 26 ABM

She’s not sure how many days are left of this. It’s been close to a month since the Cubs won, she thinks, but she and Ben started up a few days later, so she can’t really go by that. There’s also a part of her that doesn’t want to figure it out. If she figures it out, then it’s not ongoing; there’s a specific end date.

It’s close to the end of the day when her phone buzzes. She’s at work, researching previous policy on wind turbines, so she ignores it at first, but it keeps buzzing.

Benjamin Solo

(3:24 PM) You taste so good.

(3:25 PM) I’m literally a second away from going to the bathroom and rubbing one out.

(3:26 PM) It’s been like this for days. All I can think of is licking your tight pussy until you’re shaking for me.

(3:26 PM) When I get home, I’m going to lay you down on my bed and lick you for as long as I want.

Her cunt clenches around nothing. Knowing Ben’s out there in the world, hard for her, makes it impossible to return to her wind turbines.

She stands abruptly, startling Rose.

“I’m going to the bathroom for a sec.”

Rose snorts. “Have fun.”

She’s not sure if she’s about to masturbate (at work), or just look at the texts some more. Luckily the handicap stall is free. Leaning against the wall, she responds.

(3:29 PM) shit these msgs make me so wet

 (3:29 PM) u make me so horny 

(3:30 PM) ur mouth is magic i s2g

The reply is immediate.

(3:32 PM) I’m so hard thinking about how tight your cunt gets.

(3:32 PM) I love your whimpers and your face when you come.

She can’t take it; she starts texting with her left hand, the right one dipping beneath her waistband.

Relief.

(3:33 PM) u make me cum so hard 

(3:34 PM) im in the bathroom touching myself

She’s circling her clit with her finger, teasing herself the way she needs.

(3:35 PM) You’re killing me.

(3:36 PM) Show me?

Her cunt spasms. He wants a picture of her? Her vision momentarily blurs.

Ben must take her pause as a lack of interest, because he texts:

(3:37 PM) Fuck, I’m sorry. You totally don’t have to.

Her pants are already at her ankles, and she’s broadening her stance as much as she can to fit the camera between her thighs. She only takes one picture, hoping it’s good enough to send. People talk about dick pics, but no one talks about clit pics. Is that the right phrase for it? Well, it probably doesn’t matter because her clit isn’t even on display in this, it’s mostly her vulva – puffy and pink – and her pussy, liquid glistening.

She sends it before she can change her mind.

(3:40 PM) Your cunt is a fucking work of art. No other cunt can compare.

(3:41 PM) Now I’m in the bathroom, hand pumping my cock, wishing I could have your cunt.

She loses the ability to breathe. For all that they’ve done, Ben has never hinted that he wants penetrative sex from her. Which, now in hindsight, makes her feel a little stupid. If he’s okay eating her out for 30 days, then he’s probably attracted to her enough to want to fuck.

The problem is, now that she knows he wants it, too, she won’t be able to curb herself. Before she could write it off, knowing it was just her. But if it’s both of them, then what’s going to hold her back?

Should anything hold them back? Instead of dwelling, she responds.

(3:42 PM) u’d feel so good inside me 

(3:42 PM) so thick n long 

(3:43 PM) please show me

In less than a minute, Rey receives her first solicited dick pic. And what a beautiful dick it is. His fist is around part of it, but the head is visible, a sweet little drop of precum icing the tip. She wants her mouth on him. She wants to taste every inch of him and suck his dick so hard he comes down her throat. She wants to feel him soften inside of her mouth, wet with her saliva.

(3:45 PM) all i do is think about ur cock 

(3:45 PM) i want u so badly 

(3:45 PM) Are you serious? You’d let me have that tight little cunt of yours?

She shoves a finger inside of herself, using the thumb of the same hand to rub her clit, the other one shakily texting him. She’s going to come any minute now.

(3:46 PM) anytime u want

(3:46 PM) im gonna cum at work imagining u fucking the shit out of me 

(3:47 PM) First, I’d have to stretch you out, sweetheart.

(3:48 PM) Get you nice and ready before filling you.

The increasing movements of her hand in conjunction with his words makes her come. She puts her phone on top of the toilet paper dispenser, then cleans herself up. Her pants on, her fingers dried of her come, she texts him back.

(3:51 PM) just came so hard 

(3:52 PM) Me, too.

There’s a pause, and neither responds. Is that all he has to say? Sexting Ben is hot, but his final response is almost clinical. There’s an ache in her stomach, one that she feels more and more often: vulnerability. Something she doesn’t deal too well with.

When they get home, neither one mentions the texts. He should be the one to do it anyway, since he started it, but she knows he won’t. She decides, rather painfully, that maybe they were just things he meant in the moment.

So, no. They don’t talk about the texts. There is, however, a ferocity to the way Ben bites his way down her body, beginning with her nipples and ending with soothing strokes around her labia, lapping at her until she yields her second orgasm of the day.

After she makes him come with her hands, they lie together, his hands drawing circles into her back.

There’s a preciousness to being in Ben’s arms that supersedes all else. She’s safe here, in this long stretching silence. He’s one of the few people who doesn’t push. So, she decides that she doesn’t mind not talking about things with him. Even the texts. All she wants is to be near him. And would you believe it? She fished her wish.

There’s a warm feeling in her chest. It almost burns, making her body heavy and her eyes sting. It takes a few moments to recognize it.

She’s in love with Benjamin Organa Solo.

 

Day 30 ABM

Right when she’s leaving work for the day, her phone lights up with a text from him.

Benjamin Solo

(5:02 PM) Come to my room when you get home. I’ve got some things planned for you.

Her stomach flutters in anticipation. The weight in her chest is still there today. If she’s being honest with herself, it’s been there for a long time, even before the World Series. She’s just finally given herself the permission to feel it.

During her lunch break she almost tells Rose, before deciding she should probably tell Ben first. It’s painful how much she wants him. But it feels right. She is so in love with Ben, she’s not sure how she survived the past year being near him and not having him. Now, here she is, so close to being his. She’s going to tell him how she feels as soon as the bet is over, which, by the (rough) estimate she made this morning on the metro, should be sometime this weekend. Because there’s no way it’s been 30 days. She’d know if it had been that long.

So, she’ll tell him once it’s over. Once it can be real.

When she gets home, she goes straight to his room, knocking tentatively.

He opens the door shirtless, black hair hanging over his eyes. So handsome. Best face ever. Go team. Can’t he tell she’s in love with him? It’s practically leaking from her pores.

For his part, he seems pleased to see her, too. “Hi,” he says, adorable dimples indenting both cheeks. “I thought you’d be a few more minutes. Come in.”

“No delays on the train. A miracle, I know,” she says.

His room is always unbearably neat, so it’s immediately jarring when she finds rose petals on his pristinely made bed, and softly spread on the floor around it. His curtains are down, but there are no lights on, instead he’s lit the same candles as that first night.

“Oh my god,” she says.

“I thought we’d do something a little different tonight.” He’s behind her, folding her up in his arms. A soft kiss is placed below her ear. “Why don’t you take your clothes off, Rey?”

Heat tingles through her body. He steps back while she undresses.

“Lay on the bed,” he says.

She complies, and he places himself over her. He starts at her neck, his plump lips kissing a shoulder, then her collar bone, down to her sternum. His tongue loops around her nipples, as if they could get any harder, until he paints her abdomen with the imprint of his mouth. He works steadily, not allowing the process to be rushed. His teeth come out by the time he reaches a hipbone, nipping one side and then the other.

“Ben,” she groans.

He doesn’t get the hint. Instead, his mouth traverses upwards, laving her sides with his tongue. Eventually he meanders down again, kneeling on the floor, his face between her thighs, another callback to that first night. Her legs rest on his shoulders, and for a moment, he doesn’t do anything. He just looks at her, completely naked before him. His lips quirk, an odd mixture of happiness and regret that she can’t understand.

“So beautiful.” He stares into her eyes.

The tenderness tugs at her heart, already blooming with her love for him. “You make me feel beautiful.”

He smiles. He places his nose down to inhale her scent, then softly gets to work. He draws out her arousal with his tongue, savoring the taste. All of his movements are slow, but they’re calculated.

His warm hands stay on her thighs as his mouth explores her. More and more of her arousal is coming out, his tongue encouraging it with every stroke, literally eating her up. His nose, so large and so good, nuzzles just above her clit. He’s getting her worked up; sparks going through her at every turn.

It’s not building, though. His movements aren’t in an even rhythm that can escalate. It won’t be quick tonight. She must withstand his torture, remain completely at his mercy. But it’s not malevolent by any means; he’s not trying to tease her. He seems to relish every last bit of her.

He flattens his tongue and drags it across her clit, eyes focused on her reaction.

Her jaw drops. Whimpers and pants emanate from her mouth. To keep him near her, nestled in her cunt, she tangles her hands in his hair. He squeezes her thighs in response, which reassures her.

When he finally lets her come, the orgasm rushes through her, her body spasms, and her legs would kick if he weren’t holding them down. One hand moves to her stomach, his thumb moving in delicate circles across her skin.

He crawls up her body, and holds her to him, placing her over him like a blanket (this man is so big). Her face is held safely between his shoulder and his head. Her lips brush over the skin there. His fingers trace patterns up and down her bare back. She wants to live in his bed, in his arms. This is all she could ever possibly want. Her chest is glowing, heavy with the knowledge that she loves him. The words are on her tongue, but she has to wait. All of this has to be over. That’s when she’ll say it out loud. And then, hopefully, she can kiss him, too.

So, instead of saying it, she worms a hand down to the waistband of his pants, where she can feel his erection. He catches her before she can go under.

She props herself up to look at him. “You don’t want to?”

He smiles. “Tonight was about you.”

It makes her laugh. “One could argue that every night is about me.”

He brings her intercepted hand to his chest and keeps it there. “I just want to hold you. Is that okay?”

She frowns. A week ago this would’ve sent her into a downward spiral: Does he not like her hand jobs? Is he sick of them? Is she bad at it?

But tonight, she doesn’t let herself. She lets Ben hold her.

 

Day 31 ABM

She texts him to come to her room. The rose petals were nice and everything, but there’s nothing quite like smelling Ben on her sheets. The indentation of his head on one of her pillows.

She had a long day at work – Mitaka is the stupidest person in the world – and she just wants to be near Ben. He makes everything better.

“Come in!” she calls when he knocks on her door. She’s sitting, legs folded on her bed. Maybe they could watch a movie or something afterwards. They’ve never done that before. Whenever the roommates watch something together, Ben has very funny, old man-ish commentary. Or he’ll spend the whole time googling for historical accuracy. Either one sounds fun.

He shuffles in, standing in the doorway. “What’s up?” He must’ve found a crumb or something on her floor because he’s not looking at her. She really does try to tidy up before he comes over – his room is always so clean – but today she must’ve rushed it and missed something. Oh well.

“I thought we could be in here tonight.”

His head jerks up, brows furrowed. “What?”

“Oh, would you rather be in your room?” She loves waking up to his scent on her pillow, but the advantage of Ben’s room is being surrounded by his musk. Not much of a sacrifice. “Okay, let’s go there then.”

Before she can stand up, he stops her. His expression is gaunt, pained even. “Rey, I’m sorry, I thought you knew. It’s over. Yesterday was the last day.”

Initially surprising, her mind makes quick work of it, because of course last night was the final night. There were rose petals for Christ’s sake. She is literally the biggest idiot in the world. Stoopid with two ‘o’s.

And then she remembers. She doesn’t have to wait anymore.

Very slowly she stands. A wide grin stretches out over her face, scrunching her eyes. Her whole body is full at the prospect of finally being able to say it. To hell with the abandonment issues. To hell with her worst-case scenario thought process. (Which are probably connected.) She can finally tell him.

“That’s excellent news,” she says.

Stoopid. Remember?

Ben looks like she’s just punched him. “What?” His voice is hoarse.

Her eyes widen. She rushes over to him, stock-still against her wall, and rubs up and down his arms. “No, no,” she says. “I don’t mean it like that. It’s just …”

Why do this against a wall, when he could be comfortable? So, she leads him – very easily – to sit on the edge of the bed with her. She takes his hands in hers. Their heads are so close (he hunches over; too tall). His expression is wary.

“It’s just,” she continues, “now that it’s over, it could finally be real.” Her eyes flicker up to his absolutely shocked expression. “If you wanted.”

He sits there for several seconds, just staring at her, until he shakes himself out of it. “What?”

She’s doesn’t let his reaction deter her. She squeezes his hands. “Would you want it to be real?” Adrenaline shoots like a star across her body, stuttering her heartbeat. “With me?”

“With you?” His voice cracks, and an agonized hope reaches his eyes. Almost like this is too good to be true.

Her chest burns with her love for him. Moving so that their foreheads touch, she brings herself even nearer to him, the bridge of her nose tingling from the contact. “Please say yes,” she says, breathing it into his skin. “Please say you want this to be real. It’s all I think about.”

A few tears make their way down his face. “Rey.” Feather light.

His reaction lifting her, she says the unthinkable: “Because I’m so in love with you, Ben.”

Before she can brace herself for the impact of her words, Ben cradles her head in his hands.

The first touch of his lips is barely a press. It’s the ghost of a kiss, which is almost better than an actual kiss because it gets her ready. How could she ever kiss him without adequate preparation? Armed with better knowledge of what is before her, she places her lips onto his, lingering there.

And then it’s all over.         

There has never been a kiss like this. Not for her. The give and take of soft lips gently learning each other. If they had done this at the beginning, there could’ve been no pretending. Every pass of her lips is its own declaration to which his respond. They don’t speed up. They take their time with each other.

Eventually Ben breaks away, his hands migrating to her neck and then her shoulders. “God, Rey, you have no idea.” His breaths are short spurts. Apparently kissing her prevents his lungs from functioning.

She tucks her head into his shoulder, sucking on the skin there. “Then tell me.”

He brings their lips back together briefly. His thumb caresses her cheek while his eyes search hers. “I can’t believe it.”

She grins. “Want me to pinch you?”

He kisses the tip of her nose. “No.”

“Just to clarify, you want to try this with me. Right?” Her face tips forward, she can’t bear the distance. Her nose rests uncomfortably on his cheek.

How has she ever survived being mere feet from him? Miles? It’s absurd. Absolutely untenable.

“Yes,” he says. “I’d do anything you want.”

“Hmm.” Her body hums at this. “But what do you want?” She tucks some of the fallen hair behind his ears.

He considers her question for what feels like a long time but could just be a handful of seconds. Eventually he says, “I want to be yours.”

“I love you,” she says then pushes him onto his back so that she can straddle his hips. Placing her cunt over his now hardening cock, she grinds down on him. “You’re mine. Finally.”

He bucks up, causing her to groan. He guides her face down to his. “Finally.”

Their first kiss was slow, warm. This is an inferno. Tongues have joined in the mix. Lips moving in quick succession, Rey tries to grind down on him more, but doesn’t have the leverage in this position.

As if sensing this, Ben calmly rolls them over, so that he’s on top. He lifts her knees up, opening her slightly wider, circling his hips into hers. He’s so thick against her, her whole lower body is scorching. Every time her clit is jolted by his movements, her cunt begs him to her fill her.

He pants. “Do you want this? We can go slow.”

“I don’t want to go slow,” she says, trying to move her hips with his.

Groaning, he says. “Fuck. Me neither. Want to make you come. It’s so good when you come, sweetheart.”

She whines, fiddling with his shirt to get it off. He takes over the job, lifting it quickly while she does the same with hers and the bra underneath. Purposefully, he lays his bare chest over hers, skin on to skin, making her absorb the feeling of their upper bodies pressed against one another.

Her nipples pucker even more underneath his skin, and based on the flaring of his nostrils, she knows he can feel it. She puts an arm around his back, and a hand behind his head so that she can suck an earlobe into her mouth.

His body jolts, ramming his clothed cock against her pussy. “Fuck, Rey.” So deep it’s practically a growl.

She sucks on the earlobe harder, knowing it’ll be purple tomorrow.

“Can’t believe I have your pretty little tits up against me right now.” He’s no longer circling his hips, he’s thrusting, ramming his cock into her clit.

She bites down on him too hard, unable to control herself. He hisses, so she lets go of his ear, watching him move above her.

He raises his body up on his elbows, her legs wrapped around his waist. He looks down at her chest. “Fuck. Fuck. Look at how they’re bouncing. Do you see that?” He thrusts harder to see them jiggle again. “Almost came when I first saw them.” His eyes come back to hers, jet black.

“That was how I felt when I saw your cock,” she whimpers.

He practically snarls. “Yeah?” He’s still thrusting against her. “Were you thinking about how good I’d stretch you? How good I’d fuck you?”

She nods. “Please let me taste it.” Her hands move to the button of his pants. “I just want to suck it a little. That’s all. Please.”

A dazed look enters his eyes. “You want to suck my cock?” His weight shifts onto one of his elbows, letting her open his pants and take out his dick.

Thick and begging for her mouth.

She pushes him onto his back, then tugs down his pants. “Wanted to do this for so long.” Her voice is high. “Wanted you to come down my throat.”

“Do it, Rey. Make me come.” His face is almost angry, that’s how turned on he is.

She ducks her head down. She kisses a hipbone, teasing him the way he’s teased her. His cock lurches. Then she licks at the junctures of his thighs. A hand softly holds her head. He doesn’t move her, there’s no force there, he just wants her. Her eyes flick up, and he’s on one elbow, looking down at her with his mouth slightly open, eyelids heavy.

Keeping eye contact she licks one of his balls. He gasps, face scrunching. She does the other one, garnering the same reaction. Then she softly suckles them, one hand playing with the precum leaking from the tip.

“So good, shit. Rey, baby, stop teasing.” His eyes plead. “Want to see your lips around me. Want you to feel me in your throat.”

She smiles around his balls, then angles herself above the head of his cock. She takes the soft, plush tip in her mouth, the salt of his precum a welcome flavor. His skin is a little salty there, too. She sucks in gentle pulses, her tongue flicking the very top over and over.

The grip in her hair tightens. “Fuck, baby, try the whole thing. Can you take the whole thing?”

As it turns out, she can’t quite take the whole thing. He’s very thick. But her hand squeezes the base of him while she bobs up and down his cock. His breathing clues her in on what he likes, helping her develop a tempo.

“If this is your mouth, what’s your cunt going to feel like? Fuck, you look so good like that. Worship my cock, Rey. Do you like sucking me off? C’mon, baby, do you like it?”

She hums around his dick, which makes him buck his hips. She almost gags but is able to school the reflex.

Eyes wide, Ben sits all the way up, taking his hand off her. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. You okay? Do you need to stop?”

She sucks harder.

He hisses, lowering himself back on his elbow, returning his hand to her scalp. “Such a good girl. Rey. Rey, I’m going to come if you keep—no, get up, baby. Let me bounce you on my cock. Want to feel you on my cock.”

She comes off of him with a pop. He hurries her up his body, drawing her to his mouth as soon as he can.

“Take your pants off, sweetheart, then sit on my cock.”

She makes quick work of her pants and underwear. He goes to place pillows up at the top of her bed, then leans back against the wall. She straddles his hips, keeping his cock outside of her.

“Do you have condoms here? I have some in my room,” he says.

She does; they’re in her bedside table. It’s not that she isn’t a fan of condoms, but she doesn’t want to use them if she doesn’t have to. Not with Ben. “Are you clean? I have an IUD.”

He stares for a moment. “Are you sure?” His hands go to her hips, a reassuring gesture.

“Are you clean?” she repeats.

He snorts, a grin on his face. “I haven’t had sex in a long time, Rey. My doctor did some tests on my last physical, and everything came back clean.” He leans in, nuzzling his nose against hers. “They’re in my filing cabinet. Do you want to see?”

Of course he has a filing cabinet in his room. She kisses him. “No. I’m clean, too. It’s also been a while.”

Peppering kisses around her mouth, he says, “We can still use condoms. I don’t mind.”

A primal instinct implores her to feel Ben. To feel him come inside of her. She sucks his bottom lip until he groans, then pulls away. “If you’d rather, that’s fine. But if you’re trying to be a gentleman,” which she suspects he is, “please don’t.” Leaning over, she takes lube out of her bedside table.

He mouths at her jawline, fingers tweaking her nipples. “Then sit on me, sweetheart.”

Bracing her arms on his shoulders, she positions herself above his cock, while he applies the lube, one hand with a light grip on her hips to guide her down onto him.

Her chest pounds with anticipation. The wet tip of him pries her open. He kisses her to distract from the painful stretch. No tongue, just soft, languid lips. Meanwhile, she slowly takes in more inches of him, grunting until he’s in all the way.

“So good, Rey. So good.” He’s hidden his head in the crook of her neck, mumbling into her skin. A hand in her hair, an arm around her waist.

She’s never been this filled up. Her pelvis cramps at the intrusion. “Ben.”

He sucks her neck in response. She wants to see him, though. Pulling up his head, she places her forehead on his to look into his eyes. His chest is huffing, breath wiggling its way out through his gritted teeth. Eyes desperate.

They stay that way until the ache subsides and gives way to a profound fullness. Her heart clenches. She is (finally) surrounded by Ben.

She grinds her hips down against him

“Knew you’d feel this way,” he babbles. The hand on her hipbone helps lift her off in gentle thrusts. “Such a perfect cunt.”

“Tell me how good this is,” she says, reveling in the feel of him pressed in every nook and cranny of herself.

Thrusting upwards the best he can in his position, he says, “This is everything. Wanted you like this as soon as I saw you. So fucking beautiful it hurts.” His teeth now nip at her neck. With every thrust, though, her breasts jiggle, which eventually takes up his focus. His tongue licks at the flesh of her tits, running over her nipples again and again. “Thought I’d die if I couldn’t have you.”

Electric shocks go down her body and she clenches down hard on him.

Ben growls. “Let me on top, sweetheart. Let me fuck you.”

She nods, and in a flash she’s on her back, one leg around his waist, the other pushed up and to the side. He pounds into her the way he wants, using more of his cock. He leverages it farther out of her and returns it with each thrust, pressing firmly against a spongy spot only his fingers have ever found.

Her mouth gapes open.

“So perfect for me.” He breathes on her face. “Such a good girl. Are you my good girl, Rey?”

Her clit throbs with the stimulation from his thrusts. Almost sobbing, she answers, “Yes.”

He lowers himself further down, so that their skin rubs against each other with every shove of his cock. The harsh grunts he makes are animalistic.

When their hips meet, she grinds against him before he pulls out. The friction is delicious.

“So fucking tight. When I first put my finger up here, all I could imagine was you on my cock. That’s all I’ve ever imagined.”

Any control she’s had before is gone. She’s frantically pushing her hips back against him.

Sweat gathers at the edges of his face, particularly around his hairline. His hair clumps with perspiration, falling in his eyes. “Want to fill you up like this every day. Are you going to let me, sweetheart?”

Gasping, she nods. “Anytime you want. Feels so empty without you.”

Abruptly he ruts into her, then flexes his hips. She’s stuffed full of him; it’s almost too much. “Look how good you take my cock, Rey. Could’ve been filling you like this for months.”

Her fingers claw at his neck, broken keens come through her lips.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. You can take it.” His nose nuzzles her cheek, a sharp contrast to the havoc he’s wreaking inside of her. “Your tight little pussy can take me, baby.”

He thrusts directly against her g-spot, turning her noises into whines. Tears pool at her eyelids; it all feels so good. She won’t last much longer.

“Is that the spot, Rey? Is that where you need my cock?” He rams her g-spot over and over, resuming a quick pace, and she’s unable to do anything but take it.

He moves a hand up to the headboard, using that as leverage to better snap his hips against hers. “C’mon, baby. Let me feel you come all over me. Want to feel how tight your cunt gets. It’s strangling me, Rey.”

Tears stream down her face.

“Be a good girl and come on my cock, Rey. You got all nice and stretched out for me. Don’t you want to come on me, too?”

For the first in her life, she orgasms without clitoral stimulation. Her cunt clenches around him in fluttering spasms, unable to get a clear hold on him as he fucks her through it. All the while the only thing she sees are his dark eyes bearing down on her.

“That’s it,” he says. “That’s my good girl. So fucking beautiful when you come.”

That’s probably not true; her face is completely crumpled, cheeks red and caked with tears.

His thrusts grow sporadic, an indication that he’s barely holding on.

“Please come in me.” Her voice is a broken whisper, cracking as she says it. “Want to feel you in me. Please?”

“Fuck,” he groans, lodging himself so far into her, she’s not sure how he’ll get out.

His mouth completely open, brows furrowed, his cock pulses inside of her, stream after stream of his come. He collapses on top of her, breathing heavily. She hooks her legs around his and winds her arms around his torso, so that he can’t move away, not even when his cock starts to soften. She can’t stand the idea of him not residing someplace inside of her. She licks at the hair by his temple, curling from sweat, before kissing that whole side of his face.

“Rey,” he says into her pillow, his chest now taking slower breaths.

“Want you always in me,” she whimpers.

He huffs a laugh, turning his face to make eye contact. “God, I love you. I thought I’d never be able to tell you.” He gently pries her limbs off, taking his cock out of her, leaving her completely empty (except for his semen, which is leaking out). He plops down, his body clearly spent from fucking her so deeply, and pulls her back to his chest, easily spooning her. The heat of his body warms her.

It doesn’t seem like she’ll be able to move her limbs any time soon, but her lips function. Despite his cock no longer being inside of her, she still feels full. It’s probably the combination of knowing Ben loves her, of knowing she loves him, and feeling his body cover hers. All very good stuff. “I love you, too. So much.”

Humming happily, he kisses her neck. “Have any Hannukah plans?”

 

Day 32 ABM

They spent most of the night tangled up in each other. It surprised her that Ben has been hopelessly in love with her since she moved in. Though she couldn’t exactly tell him the same thing, she did explain a little more about her childhood, and why it took her so long to understand her feelings for him.

She also sent Rose a text of just exclamation marks.

Though incredibly sleep-deprived, they decide to call an all-apartment meeting before work. Poe and Finn sit at the kitchen counter, calmly eating their food, while Rey and Ben stand across from them, practically shaking.

“So,” Rey says, once it’s clear Ben isn’t going to start. “Ben and I have something we need to tell you guys.”

The boyfriends exchange side eyes that she can’t decipher.

“Right,” Ben says. He slings an arm around her shoulder, bringing her into him. “Rey and I are together now.”

The silence is smothering until Finn breaks it. “Fuck!” He brings a fist down against the counter. Rey’s stomach drops, but before she can respond, he gets out his wallet and fishes out a crisp twenty to give to Poe.

Poe cackles with glee, his blank expression morphing into an unforgivable smirk. “I told you.” He deposits the bill into his own wallet, which is laying out.

Finn scowls at his boyfriend. “Well how was I supposed to know it would take them the whole month?”

Poe puts his hands behind his head. “What can I say? I’m an expert at people.”

Finn glares at Rey and Ben. “One of you is refilling my SmarTrip as penance.”

She gives Ben a confused look which he reciprocates.  “You guys bet on us?” he says.

“Yeah, but only cash,” Poe says. “I wanted head for a whole month, but Finn said he’s getting too old for that.”

Finn rolls his eyes. “That’s not what I said.”

Poe holds his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. What he actually said was, ‘We don’t need oral for 30 days to figure out we’re in love.’”

Ben turns bright red.

She dives in to save him. “Okay. Well. I get that this might be weird for you guys, so I’m prepared to move out.” Which she really really doesn't want to do.

Ben whips his head back to her. “What?”

“Why would you move out?” Poe frowns.

“Yeah, don’t be stupid. You and Ben were basically together before, just without the sex part,” Finn says. “If anything, it’ll be better now. Ben won’t be so mopey.”

Ben squeezes her shoulder, as if to say, See? You don’t need to go anywhere. Out loud he says, “I was not mopey.”

Poe pulls out his phone. “I don’t know, I’m sure I have a couple of Ben quotes in here that could prove it.”

Finn gets up from the stool. “Whatever. Rey, you’re not going anywhere. Unless you want to. But don’t want to, okay?”

She nods. “Okay, as long as it isn’t weird.”

“Ooh,” Poe says, “maybe Rey could move into Ben’s room and we could get another roommate. Think of all the money we could save.”

“Yeah,” Ben says, “what a great idea. Five people and one bathroom. Why didn’t we think of it before?” His stare is withering.

“You and Rey can just shower together,” Poe responds, his favorite let’s annoy Ben smile on his face. “Save water.”

Finn ruffles his hair. “Don’t tease Ben too much today. He finally told Rey how he felt.”

“Actually,” she interjects, “I said it first.” It all feels very middle school, but she can’t believe her good luck: she has Ben, and no one’s mad at her for it.

Ben pinches her side.

“Whatever,” Finn says. “Now which one of you is refilling my SmarTrip? I got to go now, or I’ll be late.”