Chapter Seven

Lydia

After that anal gaping Stiles had taken from Boyd he'd texted the pack and told them to give him a few days to recover. His ass was still sore.

It was Stiles time. He booted up his laptop and opened the browser, deciding to check his Facebook messages first.

His phone vibrated and he sighed, closing his laptop, wondering what it was now.

It was a text from Lydia saying she was headed over to see him.

Stiles felt like his heart just jumped in his chest. He was only in his pajamas, but Lydia had seen him like that before.

He heard knocking downstairs a few minutes later, which had given him time to throw on his bullseye t-shirt. He liked that one.

"Hi Lydia," he greeted smiling.

"Hello," she replied, walking past him cooly like she owned the place. "What you up to?"

"Oh just you know," he commented. "Stuff."

"I like how you're specific," she teased with a smirk. "Jackson tells me you've been up to some very interesting stuff lately."

Stiles felt a nervous lump form in his throat. Lydia was still looking at him with a smirk.

"I heard you got the pack cursed. Jackson tells me he had to sleep with you to help break it. How was he Stiles?"

She asked this suggestively with a hint of seduction in her tone.

"Oh," Stiles managed. "Um... good."

She stepped toward him, still grinning, and he backed away from her. She was making him nervous, looking at him in a way he wasn't sure he liked.

Finally he was against a wall. She paused.

"What's the matter Stiles?" she teased him. "I thought you wanted me."

Stiles felt his dick jump in agreement at her suggestion, but his head was still telling him this was a bad idea. Lydia smirked and pointed to the boner in his PJs.

"You want me don't you Stiles?" Lydia whispered seductively.

Stiles swallowed again, his cock hardening even more, stretching the fabric of his pajamas straight out at her. Lydia smirked again and crossed the remaining space between them.

Her hand moved down to the bulge, and holy shit, Stiles might just overload mentally. Lydia Martin's hand had fished his dick out of his PJs, her fingers wrapped around it, such soft and precise fingers.

"I want you Stiles," she growled at him seductively.

Their lips crashed together. It wasn't a gentle meeting. The kiss was hot, sloppy, filthy, testifying to years of longing for both of them.

Lydia had secretly desired Stiles just as much as he had her for some time, but she had an image to uphold.

Their tongues swiped against one another and hands explored each other's bodies.

"Stiles undress me," Lydia panted against his lips.

Stiles was trembling all over with pure, raw desire for her. His shaky hands helped lift her top off, as she raised her arms for him. He unhooked her bra, watching her lucious breasts come into view.

He groaned at the immediate desire to touch them, his hands kneading the globes softly, gently.

"Yeah Stiles," Lydia moaned for him.

She wrapped her fingers around his cock again, getting down on her knees. Stiles released a throaty moan when her lips took him into the hot, wet canal.

Lydia hummed and took his cock down about halfway, cranking the shaft.

"Oh shit yeah," Stiles grunted.

Lydia hummed around the member again, and gods that drove him insane. She went down further, taking her fingers away, setting a pace. She had him moaning and panting for her madly, pulling off of the member with a pop.

"Condom," she spoke between pants.

Stiles threw his t-shirt off and kicked his pajamas off his ankles. He didn't have a condom.

"I don't have one," he said. "Sorry."

She looked at him for a long moment, still wanting him with every fiber of her being. Her pussy was unbelievably wet.

"Fuck it," she whispered.

She shimmied out of her mini-skirt and panties.

"Touch me Stiles."

He wrapped his hands around her from behind, his fingers ghosting down her stomach, finding her clit. She groaned out a whine as his finger massaged her, feeling the digit slip in.

"Mmmm," Stiles hummed in her ear, slipping in a second finger. "You are wet aren't you?"

"Oh Stiles! Just fuck me. Please!"

Stiles removed the fingers. He indicated the living room couch and lay on his side. She squeezed in next him. He raised her leg, positioning his cock, shifting up a little on the couch. His cock penetrated her.

"Ah yeah," she crooned.

Stiles moaned as he finished seating himself in her completely. He began bucking his hips, setting a pace. She cried out needily and began pushing back onto him.

His hands grabbed her breasts, fingers teasing over the nipples as his cock hammered away at her pussy.

"Lydia," he groaned in her ear, nipping at the bud.

"Yes Stiles! Yes! I love your cock!"

He moaned, and cupped her waist with his hands, helping them set an even faster pace. She was panting and whining for him like he'd always imagined in his wildest fantasies.

"Stiles," she kept panting. "Stiles!"

She came, her juices releasing around him.

"Oh fuck," Stiles grunted as he slammed her wet pussy faster. "Gotta stop. Gonna..."

He pulled out of her and cranked his cock furiously, his seed exploding over the couch cushions.

"Gods Lydia," he whispered in her ear, his breathing coming out rapidly. "That was incredible."

She turned herself to face him, claming his lips. This kiss was softer and more sensual, both of them sated with their release. It had been fun.

Lydia found herself thinking that maybe she'd be back for seconds. Friends with benefits.

ooOoo

Next Chapter: Peter