A Little Too Much of You
-All the fantasy stories with Ishan :)
My phone stayed silent all Tuesday, his absence was a dull ache I refused to feed. Two days of stubborn pride dissolved the moment his text blinked at 8:34 AM Thursday, *aaj mil skte din me*. I checked the name three times, and without a second thought I said yes of course I was desperate to meet him.
By noon I’d lied to my mother about Shubhangi’s birthday, my heart hammering out a rhythm of “don’t get caught, don’t get caught” as I walked to the bakery. Because, as usual, he was late. I took brownies and his Monsters sugar-free a preference I had memorized. My brownie sat untouched while I waited, then wandered, finally settling under a tree where the leaves were still in hot noon air.m. Every passing white car stopped my breath until his car slowed, and I was inside.
First thing, my face was in front of the AC, sweaty and all red. Once I was normal temperature, I started applying nail paint. It’s strange three months ago I applied it on a video call and now here I was in front of him. When I was done I gave him a cute cheek kiss holding both his chubby cheeks while he drove, and that one touch was enough to make me crave him.
Without a second thought, I said, “Let’s have sex.” The words fell out, half a month of aching emptiness compressed into four syllables. He turned onto an access road paralleling the highway. The car rocked slightly as he checked the perimeter. Everything went soft around the edges. Without my glasses, the world was just shapes and colors, but he was the only shape I needed. He climbed in after me, shut the door, and the sound of it closing felt like a promise.
So I climbed onto him, wanting to see him closer. He held me tightly through my waist and kissed me first. or maybe I kissed him honestly, I can’t remember. All I know is his lips were on mine and my hands were already in his hair, pulling him closer like I was scared he’d disappear. Half a month without him had made me greedy. My body remembered things my brain had tried to forget.
His hands slid under my top, and I shivered when his fingers found my bra clasp. He unhooked it so easily, like he’d done it a thousand times, and that thought made me ache. I pressed into him, feeling his hard length through his trousers, and a little whimper escaped my throat. He pulled me closer onto his lap, his hands gripping my waist so tight. I could feel him through the fabric thick and hot grinding against me as we kissed. My panties were soaked. I could feel the wetness spreading, and I didn’t care. I wanted him inside me so bad it hurt.
We got his trousers off. My fingers were clumsy and desperate he helped me, and when his cock sprang free, I wrapped my hand around it. He asked for a blowjob. I shook my head. I didn’t want that. I wanted him in me, filling me up, making me feel whole again. I positioned myself over him, the tip pressing at my entrance. I was so tight, so wet, but he guided me down slowly. Inch by inch, he stretched me open, every ridge dragging against my slick walls. I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders.
“Fuck,” I breathed, his forehead against mine.
I started to move, grinding on him in a rhythm that felt natural, like my body already knew what to do. His hands on my hips steered me, showed me the pace he liked. It started slow. a gentle rocking but soon it wasn’t enough. I wanted harder. I wanted deeper. Each thrust made me wetter, made me hunger for him more, and I chased my orgasm with a desperate need. He drove into me harder and harder, and closer I went, and yeah he made me cum on his hard cock.But things didn’t end there. He was still hard, wanted more. I laid on the seat, and he slid his dick back inside my wet cunt and started with a deep stroke, looking straight into my eyes, like he was desperate to show me heaven, to make me feel how much he craved fucking me. He glanced out the window first. checking, always checking. then pushed back inside. He fucked me with deep, heavy strokes that made my eyes roll back. I moaned, biting my lip, completely lost. I buried my face in his neck, breathing him in, feeling his skin slick with sweat against mine. It felt like heaven. Like nothing else mattered. The way he moved, the way he watched the road even while inside me. it was crazy and hot, and I loved every second. The vein on his neck, the sunlight falling on his face like a greek god with curly hair, sweat dripping down that vein. everything about him was magical.Then his face changed. He froze, looked out the window, and pulled out in one motion. “Get up,” he said sharply. “Put your pants on” Dazed, I just sat there, naked, watching him scramble into the driver’s seat he was naked too. My heart pounded. He started the engine, and drove away while I fumbled for my clothes, hands shaking. I had been just about to cum but something was better than nothing, he said. We drove in silence, adrenaline wearing off. We almost got caught, and I didn’t care. I asked if I could give him a blowjob. He refused, twice, thrice. But I put my hand inside his trousers anyway. He glanced at me, and I smiled. I went down and took him in my mouth, tasting myself on him, while he drove on the highway. I wanted him to cum for me, but driving made it hard, so we parked again. He enjoyed it while his hand on my head pushed me deeper. After a while, I switched to my hand, looked him in the eyes, and watched his face twist as he came all over my fingers.
The engine idled in front of my house, and the AC hummed its last cool breath before he cut.
He didn’t turn to look at me. He just kept his hands on the wheel, knuckles loose, like he’d already moved on. Like the last hour hadn’t happened at all. The silence stretched between us, thick and uncomfortable, and I could feel the words building in my throat – all the things I wanted to say, wanted to ask, wanted to hear him say back. But I swallowed them down, let them sit heavy in my chest. I took a bite of the brownie. It was stale now, dry on my tongue, but I chewed slow, buying time, pretending I wasn’t desperate for him to say something first. Anything. A joke, a sigh, even a glance my way.
The brownie finished too fast. I crumpled the wrapper in my fist. I turned toward him, lips parting to ask if I could stay just a few more minutes, just a little longer. Maybe steal one more kiss, press my palm to his cheek, feel his mouth on mine just once more. But the words died on my tongue.He was already reaching for his phone. Checking the time. His thumbs moving without a thought, like I was already forgotten.“Okay, bye” he said, in that same easy, casual tone. Not warm. Not cold. Just… nothing.
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I opened the door. The car shifted as I stepped out into the hot noon air, and when I turned back, his gaze was steady on the road ahead, his jaw relaxed, he had somewhere to be. Someone else to see. And I realized, with a hollow ache in my gut, that for him, this was just another Thursday . Another girl in the back seat, another quick fuck, another taste he wouldn’t remember in a week. The front door of my house loomed behind me, warm and familiar, but all I could feel was the space where he’d been the absence of his weight, his heat, his voice. My lips still tingled with the ghost of his kiss. The spot on my neck where he’d buried his face still burned, and I knew it would stay there for days.
I should’ve said something. Should’ve asked what I was to him. But I didn’t, and now the question hung in the air like smoke I couldn’t clear. Only the noon answered me with silence, and I was nothing but hollow, walking alone to my front door. “Bye,” I said quietly, but he was already gone.
He stood in my doorway like he owned the place, and maybe he did. After yesterday, after what he’d done to me in that car his hand over my mouth while a police bike rolled past my body was still humming with it. My thighs still ached. I could still feel the ghost of him inside me. And here he was again, grinning like he knew exactly what that grin did to me.
We ate first I barely tasted, because every time I looked at him, my stomach flipped and my pulse went stupid. Then we collapsed on my bed, his phone between us, and for an hour we watched reels. My head rested on his shoulder. He laughed at everything this big, warm, genuine laugh that made him look cute. He was so happy, so absorbed in whatever stupid video was playing, and I couldn’t help it. I watched him instead of the screen his jaw his eyelashes his lips the way his Adam’s apple moved when he laughed. The way his fingers, long and sure, scrolled without looking.
I wanted him so badly it was almost embarrassing.
So I grabbed his cheeks. both of them, like he was a kid and kissed him. Just a peck at first. A test. But he turned into it immediately, his hand coming up to the back of my neck, pulling me deeper, and that one little smooch melted into something hungrier. He set the phone down. His mouth opened against mine, and I felt his tongue slide in, tasted the onion from what we ate and something else, something purely him. I climbed on top of him without breaking the kiss, and he pulled me closer by gripping my ass, hauling me against him, and then we were grinding slow at first, then harder, a rhythm that made me gasp into his mouth. His hands found the clasp of my bra. One flick, and it fell open. He pulled his own shirt off over after mine, and I was suddenly aware of the air on my skin, of his chest against mine, of his heartbeat fast, matching mine. Within minutes we were both naked, me on top of him kissing him desperately like we would die without it. Then his mouth moved down. He took my nipple in his mouth and sucked while his hand worked the other one, thumb rubbing in circles that sent sparks down my spine. I moaned, fisting his hair, and he looked up at me, straight into my eyes, and something in that look said I’m not done with you yet. Then he was kissing me again, deep, claiming. But I wanted to be the one on top this time. I pushed him down, straddled him, and slid lower until my mouth found him. I wrapped one hand around his dick thick, already slick and gripped his thigh with the other, taking him into my mouth. I went down as far as I could, until I gagged, my eyes watering, and then pulled back, looked up at him, and asked without words more, or inside me? He answered by grabbing my neck not hard, but firm and pulling me up to kiss me again, messy, tasting myself on him. My hand wandered down, and I was already so wet, and I positioned him at my entrance. We broke the kiss looked straight into each other and then I sank down inch by inch feeling every millimeter of him stretch me, fill me, and the look on his face was pure hunger.I rode him. Slowly at first but then he grabbed my hips and took charge, bucking up into me from below, fucking me harder, until I was bouncing on him and gasping his name. Then we switched he flipped me over, got on top, slid back inside me, and gave me one deep, devastating stroke that made me see white. I asked him to choke me, and he did his hand closing around my throat, squeezing just enough to make my head swim while he fucked me, relentless, until I came with a wave so clean it washed everything else away But he didn’t stop. He kept going, harder, and then we shifted again doggy style, me on the edge of the bed, him standing behind me, his dick sliding back in and hitting that spot directly. He started slow, teasing, and then in less than a minute he was pounding into me, and I was moaning so loud I didn’t care who heard. I came again stars behind my eyes. that second orgasm riding the first, a double wave that left me trembling. We paused for a second. I slipped off the bed, my legs barely holding me, and then he pulled me up against the wall. Standing. He lifted one of my legs onto his shoulder and I balanced on my toes to meet his height, and he drove into me first time like this, and I clung to him, helpless, while he fucked me standing up. He was relentless, hungry, like nothing I gave him was ever enough. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto my chest. Finally he pushed me back onto the bed, grabbed both my legs, and pushed them up, and slid inside me again, giving me hard strokes until I came a third time, sobbing with it. He was spent. But I wasn’t done. I started rubbing my clit with my own fingers, and he pushed his inside me, and we found the same rhythm together me circling, him curling until the last orgasm hit me like a flood, and I soaked through my bedsheet, my hand, his hand, everything slick with me.Afterwards, I couldn’t lift a finger. I just lay there, dead to the world, my body humming with aftershocks.
The phone vibrated on my pillow, once, twice, and that bell cut through my sleep like a knife through water. I was half-awake, half-drowning in a dream I can’t even remember now, and when my hand found the screen and I saw his name glowing there, I didn’t think. I didn’t think about the days I’d spent convincing myself we were done. I didn’t think about the way my chest had gone hollow every time I’d checked my phone and found nothing. I just pressed call back before my brain could catch up, and there he was. “Hi.”That one word. That single, stupid, soft word, and everything I’d built to protect myself crumbled like it was made of sand. I forgot every promise I’d made to myself about moving on. I forgot the way I’d cried into my pillow on night three, and night seven, and night fifteen. I forgot that I was supposed to be strong now. “Were you sleeping?” he asked, and I could hear the smile in his voice, that smug little curve he gets when he knows he’s got me.
Like hell I was, but my voice came out weak, already giving in. He said we’d talk later. He always says that. And I knew, I knew his later never comes that’s our pattern, that’s the game we play, him making promises he never keeps and me pretending I don’t notice. But this time I couldn’t let it go. I couldn’t hang up and go back to that cold empty bed. So I told him I wasn’t tired and we talked. We talked about nothing at first some stupid thubgs and then we talked about us, about the days, about how neither of us could really explain why we’d let it stretch so long. And somewhere in that conversation, we made a plan to fuck after twenty days.
I didn’t believe it. Not really. I told myself he’d cancel, or he’d say something vague and let it hang there like a half-finished sentence, just like always. But at ten in the morning my phone rang and it was him. He said lets meet and I said okay , my heart was already hammering so loud I could hear it.I told him to bring his car he said “No”
and there was something nervous in his voice, something I’d never heard before. “My place” That shocked me. He’d never brought a girl to his place. I’d never been to any guy’s place, not for this. We’d spent time on video calls, me imagining what it would feel like to be there with him, to hold onto the corner of his bed while he was inside me. And now I was actually going to do it.
He switched off the camera before I arrived. I sat in his house, following his whispered instructions, sneaking through his parents’ bedroom to his bedroom like some kind of secret my heart was pounding so hard I thought it might give me away. He was scared. I could feel it radiating off him the tension in his shoulders, the way he kept checking the hallway. But there was excitement too, a trembling kind of electric thing that hummed between us like a live wire. And then I was close to him, and all of that fell away. The fear, the nerves, the twenty days of hurt it all dissolved into thin air the moment I felt his warmth. He pulled me close like he couldn’t wait another second, like he’d been starving for me, and his forehead pressed against mine. We stood there, hugging, just breathing each other in. I could feel his heart beating through his chest, fast and desperate, matching mine.
Our eyes met. And then our lips. What started as a sweet, tender kiss turned into something else, something hungry. He pressed me closer, his hands squeezing my ass right through my jeans, and I could feel him getting hard against me, grinding into me while our kiss deepened. His tongue slid against mine, and I arched into him, wanting more, needing more. His hand found the hem of my t-shirt and slipped underneath, his fingers ghosting over my back before sliding up to my bra. He unhooked it and then my t-shirt was gone, thrown somewhere, my bra following it. He pulled his own shirt off, and I pressed my palms against his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the steady beat of his heart under my fingers. He looked at me then a straight, serious look that made my breath catch and his fingers went to the button of my jeans. He pushed me gently onto the bed, climbing over me, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him hard. He played with my breasts, thumbs circling my nipples, and I could feel myself getting wet just from that, just from his touch and the weight of him above me. We rolled onto our sides, still kissing, unable to pull apart even for a second. We were craving each other, and it took everything in me not to beg. I climbed on top of him, holding his face in both hands, kissing him deeply before trailing my lips down his jaw, his neck, his chest, his stomach. His breath hitched as I kissed lower, and I could feel him watching me, waiting. I pulled his shorts down, and my hand wrapped around his dick hard, so hard, and I could feel how much he wanted this.
I started with my hand, slow and teasing, and he immediately stood up to kiss me again while I worked him. Then I went down on him, taking him in my mouth, and I loved it the weight of him, the taste of him, the way he guided my head with his hands, setting a rhythm that made my eyes water. He pushed deeper, and I gagged, but I loved that too, loved the way he held me there for a second before letting me breathe. When he pulled me up, his lips found mine, and I tasted myself on him or maybe it was him I tasted, I couldn’t tell . He tried to enter me, but I wasn’t ready, not yet. So he kissed me again, hand sliding between my thighs, and his fingers found my clit with a certainty that made me moan against his lips. He circled it, pressed down, and I was dizzy, gripping his shoulders, my thighs were trembling. He worked me until I was dripping wet, and then he pulled me onto him, over him, positioning me at his entrance.
I sank down slowly, inch by inch, feeling every ridge of him against my walls, that fullness I’d craved for so long. I looked at him, and we didn’t even need words his hands came up, brushing my hair from my face, and he just watched me, watched me ride him, his eyes burning with something so deep I almost couldn’t bear it. Every stroke was deeper than it seemed, every one of them hitting a place inside me that made me scream. I buried my face in his shoulder, trying to keep quiet, and I bit down on his neck, leaving a mark. He. gripped me tighter, holding me by the neck and back, and started fucking up into me from below, harder, faster, until I was shivering, coming undone around him. My orgasm hit me like a wave, and I collapsed on top of him, shaking, and he didn’t stop he kept thrusting, kept pushing, until I could feel him everywhere, like we weren’t two bodies anymore but one thing, one pulse, one breath.
We rested for ten seconds, gasping, and then he was hard again, and I was climbing back on top, riding him in a squat, l was moaning ,we just couldn’t get enough. When he was about to cum, he pulled me down beside him, and we kissed while our hands worked, he on his dick, mine on his balls, moving together in perfect rhythm until he spilled across my hand, my stomach, his own. We lay there, messy and breathing hard, and I couldn’t stop looking at him. We washed up after, and the way I came to his place, I left the same way some part of me still not believing it happened. But I could feel him on my skin, taste him in my mouth, that salt on his neck, that smell of his body. Twenty days of nothing, and then this. And I knew, right then, that whatever we were, I wasn’t done with it yet.
