by Daisy Jane
I turn the stove off and move the pot to the back burner before pulling the dough from the oven. Now that it’s done rising, I drape a tea towel over it and find my spot at the table, sitting right next to Bodhi. It’s nothing—sitting next to someone. But for me, it’s something.
My instinct is to sit across from him, make cute small talk, maybe flirt some. Then go to bed and replay it all in my mind while my body goes warm and my fingers go discovering.
But I fight that instinct and sit next to him, draping my hand over his solid thigh. His chin juts out to me, and his head pulls back a bit.
“Sloane you are surprising me,” he says, his voice a rough whisper.
“Tell me why your day was bogus,” I respond, letting my fingertips dip into his solid thigh. I wonder if it was leg day or if he always feels this… hard. Then I wonder what Bodhi looks like… hard.
“You know how I’m into faux-leather-working and stuff, right?” he drapes one arm behind me on the back of my chair, and the casually intimate position we’re in makes me giddy. He’s comfortable being this way, he would probably be in on the whole “fantasy plan” I’ve been hatching.
“Yeah,” I nod, letting my fingers now move tiny circles on the inside of his thigh. His chest lifts as he adjusts to this new friction and when I look down at my hand, I can see a bulge growing in his lap. I bite the inside of my mouth and look up at him.
“It’s the friction,” he says, motioning to my hand, smirking. “Anyway,” he says, as if me spotting his growing erection isn’t the sexiest thing that has ever happened to me. It is. Then I realize that seeing the outline of a semi-hard dick in sweats is the sexiest thing that’s ever happened to me.
Jesus, I need this gang bang more than I realized. Wait, I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to admit that to Jesus.
“I’m been trying to get my watch bands into this place downtown, convince them to stop selling the animal-cruel leather bands and sell just mine,” he says, pushing his fingers through his hair in a way that made me think of both Bastian and Eli. Maybe it’s just a thing all hot guys do?
“The shop wouldn’t do it?” I ask, wanting to know but also wanting more.
He shakes his head, blowing out an exhausted breath. “I have to go back in a few weeks. The owner is away on personal business. I have to talk to her personally.” He rolls his eyes.
“Until then, you’re just going to keep making them so you have more to impress her with, right?” I ask, now moving my palm up and down the curve of his leg slowly, the heel of my palm making it so close to his dick. Close but not quite.
“Right,” he says, narrowing his eyes on mine, studying me. I don’t ask what, I don’t pull away, I just watch him study me as I rub his thigh and get myself all hot and bothered.
He lowers his voice to almost inaudible. “Is there even pizza?”
I laugh, hard, and slap his thigh where I was tenderly rubbing him. “Yes,” I reply, chewing on the corner of my mouth as my eyes stay trained on his. “But there’s something I want first.”
He groans a little but smiles, the noise trapped behind closed lips.
Here we go. I take a breath. “I want to give you a blow job and I want to talk to you about something important, but it doesn’t have to be in that order.”
Bodhi doesn’t ask what it means, he doesn’t question if I’m sure, because he’s not that kind of guy. He trusts that I am a grown woman who knows what I want. And he knows that what I want right now is him.
“I don’t get head until I’ve given it,” Bodhi says, pushing away from the table, outstretching his hand to me.
I place my hand in his and it feels like a Barbie doll hand against… Thor’s hand. He gives me a controlled smile, his hair now completely dry and framing his face like a damn model. Following behind him, he takes me upstairs to his room. Grandma followed us but we shut him out. He still wasn’t completely keen on me and if he saw me defile one of his fathers? I don’t think he’d ever come around.
He didn’t lock the door since Bastian was definitely going to go downstairs and eat when he woke up and Eli was an hour into a “mellow” night in his room before taking three melatonin and crashing.
All we had to do was be quiet.
Like he knew that was our only rule, Bodhi pressed a finger to his lips before smiling. He started peeling off his clothes so I did the same. The last time I undressed in front of Brett I’d folded my arms over my chest and crossed my legs like I was some prisoner being stripped before the hose down. And even then, I knew that’s not how I should feel with a person who was putting his penis inside me. But then I thought it was better to be uncomfortable than to be alone.
Any jiggly bit or imperfection I ached to cover completely slipped my mind as my eyes roamed over Bodhi’s naked body. There was even more ink in the places I hadn’t yet seen—his thighs were wrapped in an ornate scene featuring a skull-faced man riding a motorcycle through flames, all done in different shades of black in. His groin was bare-skinned, as plain as day but before I could comment on it, my eyes met it.
Bodhi’s cock.
Tilting my head to the side for a moment, I struggled to calibrate, and my brain seemed to be moving slow like it does post-migraine. I was taking in so many things I’d never seen before and it affected me.
His cock was thick and lengthy, even somewhat soft. His balls were big and as it turns out, big balls turn me on. I licked my lips as I watched his cock thicken and lift, exposing the metal running through the underside of him.
My mouth went dry and my heart sped up. I knew I’d dropped to my knees when I heard them pop as they met the hardwood. I looked back up at Bodhi just once, a huge smile on his face as he reached out to me, wrapping his hand around the back of my head.
“Damn, Sloane, you’re eager,” he whispered huskily as I wrapped both of my hands around his thickening stalk. Working them in opposite directions slowly, I let my tongue lap at the head of him, making very sure to not go far enough under his head to touch the piercing.
The piercing would be a worship session of its own.
Right now, I’m just getting warmed up to holding and hardening this massive, beautiful cock attached to this massive, beautiful man.
“Can I take whatever I want?” I ask against the head of his pinkening cock, my lips dragging against the slit at his peak, taking the wetness with me.
“Fuck,” he groans in a low, controlled tone, his hands now tangling in my hair behind my head. “Take or do whatever you need Sloane.” Gently, he holds my head, massaging and doting, not guiding or pushing.
I press my hands to his thighs and make my first full pass.
My lips pass his head and I can feel the cool metal piercing on my tongue as I slide him into my mouth, inch by inch until he’s as deep in my throat as he can be. He’s not all the way in but nearly and I swallow once, letting his dick move with my throat.
He grits his teeth, I can hear his jaw tighten as he moans out, keeping the noise trapped. Still trying not to disrupt Eli.
Eli.
I know it’s illogical but I do like Eli. As far as I know, though, that’s one-sided and I’m tired of waiting for life to happen. I can still like Eli and have fun with Bodhi.
Slowly, I tease him by leaning back onto my heels until just his cock head is in my mouth. I swirl my tongue around him, swallowing down his tasteless precome. Then I take his cock in one hand, squeezing gently and lifting up to expose the dirty little secret he has running through him. Cupping my mouth around the piercing, I suck gently and slowly, making his thighs immediately twitch.
“Fuck, Sloane,” he grumbles, teeth still clenched. His response to me sucking on his piercing is surprising, as if every girl that ever laid eyes on him didn’t want or try to do this very thing.
I release my suction on the metal and look up at him, my lips already feeling tingly and swollen from the oral sex I’m giving. Is there a better feeling than giving good oral sex? Besides receiving? My belly
flooded with pride when I looked up at strong Bodhi, reaching out and gripping the wall with one hand, the other still woven carelessly through my now-tangled sandy hair.
“How many girls have done that?” I ask with a smile. No jealously here. I don’t want to fall in love with Bodhi, I just want to enjoy everything about him while our circles of life happen to overlap.
“None,” he says as he shakes his head and lets his eyes flutter closed.
“Liar,” I say, moving his cock to my mouth again, letting the tip of my tongue run up and down the underside of his steel.
He shakes his head as I suction my lips over his piercing again, sucking it onto my tongue before taking the smallest, most gentle little nibble.
“Oh fuck, oh Jesus,” he growls out, unable to stop the carnal tone from clawing its way out of his throat. I pull off his cock and press my finger to my lips.
“Eli,” I whisper, before lifting his cock which is still in my fist. Sucking until one of his balls is completely in my mouth, I roll my tongue around the big, full mass, loving how he squirms as I do. My thumb passes the tip of his cock as I alternate sucking his balls, precome flowing faster now.
“New,” he pants, as I take him down my throat again, this time a tiny bit further than before. I love how the metal piercing feels against the very back of my tongue. I love how he leaks a little when I simulate swallowing.
“The piercing is new, I got it last year,” he says, his thumb dragging over my forehead to push away the messy hair that’s taken over my face.
“Suck it again, Sloane. Fuck that felt so good, will you suck it again please? The barbell?”
Some girls want to hear those three words. I love you.
Some want those four words. Will you marry me?
But I’m ecstatic with those six words. I mean, there are no other words make me feel like a powerful and sexy woman like “will you suck it again please?”
Winking, I pump my closed fist up and down his shaft a few times, wanting to watch his balls jerk rhythmically to the motion. After a few seconds he puts both of his hands on my shoulders, stilling me.
“Sloane, if you want this to last, you can’t do that, okay?” he says, a comical seriousness to his eyes. I nod.
When I suction my mouth over his piercing again, I start to get lost. Lazily I roll my tongue around the metal and nibble at it, suck at it until he’s telling me he needs a break.
Is that what he’s saying? I’m so lost in his moment that— “Sloane, wait,” Bodhi interjects. He reaches his hands under my arms and lifts me to my feet with ease.
His eyes roam over me and I tug my legs together as his gaze go to the wetness coating my thighs.
The noise of approval he makes comes from his chest, dense and muffled.
“Let’s get on my bed,” he says, his eyes still stealing over my naked body. My breasts always made me self-conscious, full and big also meant slightly saggy. But he doesn’t look at me like I have saggy breasts, he doesn’t construe my sticky thighs as desperate. He looks at me like I am the first naked woman he’s ever laid eyes on. It makes me feel so fucking beautiful.
After getting comfortable in the middle of his King-sized bed—which I think was just a basic requirement for a man his size—he positions his body between my open knees.
“Do you like it when guys go down on you, Sloane?” he pulls his hair up on the top of his head, using a rubber band from his wrist to keep it in a messy bun. His triceps tighten as he gives the bun a final tug, and I let my eyes trickle over the lumps of hard flesh that make up his torso. The tattoo of a lion growling, his jaws wide but his eyes almost fearful. All muted shades of orange, blacks and grays. It was something I’d not noticed until now and it was breathtaking. He wasn’t just tatted up with his area code and tribals. This was art.
Biting my bottom lip, I nod.
“Yes, but I’ve never had an orgasm that way,” I admit, knowing that by my age I should have orgasms mastered. And I can easily get there with clit stimulation—in fact, in the few weeks since I’d moved in with the guys my clit was getting far more stimulation than it ever had. But coming from a man’s touch?
It hadn’t really happened for me. Brett only went down on me once and that consisted of him using the tip of his tongue to literally poke my clit a few times before asking if I was “ready” now. And orgasms from sex? Not only was I not even sure I had a g-spot, but if I did, Brett and my other boyfriends never knew it existed either.
He moves to his belly and pulls my legs up, draping them over his shoulders. His eyes stay on mine the whole time, making me feel comfortable. It is strange how comfortable I feel because normally when I have a crush on a man, being nude and in a position like this? I’d be nervous. Incredibly.
“Sloane you know you’re fucking hot as hell, right?” He presses his mouth to my inner thigh, his eyes still trained on mine as he begins peppering me with slow kisses. The scruff of his jaw grates against my skin and the idea of having leftovers from this encounter tomorrow makes me extremely excited.
I stay quiet, gnawing my bottom lips, letting my fingers stroke over his mountainous shoulders, tracing ink, touching muscle, exploring heaven.
He lifts his mouth but keeps a bit of my thigh between his teeth, a gentle bite before a smile.
“You’re a fucking knockout,” he says, as if somehow, he could see inside of me and knew I needed to hear that.
And I did need to hear it. Losing the house was hard. I let myself get lost in the guys at the corner house, the last few weeks, each time an appointment was made with someone else by a client who usually used me I had to hear “because, you know, I have something important coming up and I can’t risk not having my roots done, you understand.” And I did understand but that’s the thing about your stupid brain and your stubborn heart, they don’t always communicate.
I smile lazily at him, soaking in every moment of this easy bliss with Bodhi.
“Now, put a pillow over your face because I’m going to make you scream.”
And I did what he said because the look he gives me before he disappears between my legs, it meant business.
Chapter 13
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Bodhi asked before licking his lips, eyes wide.
Licking his lips after going down on me, not running to the sink to dramatically brush his teeth and scrub his tongue the way Brett did that one time. Wrapping my legs together tightly, I nod lazily down at him where he moves from his elbows to his knees, his thick pierced cock bobbing out in front of him.
My eyes went to it, to the metal running through his turgid flesh, and heat moved through me as the pieces of my explosive orgasm crawled their way back inside, putting themselves together again, preparing for another detonation.
Smoothing the tops of my cheekbones with the heel of my palms, I wipe away the remnants of my tears.
It’s not what you’re thinking.
I didn’t bawl my way through orgasm because Bodhi’s tongue grinding against my clit made me realize I loved him.
I cried because I wasn’t crazy.
This existed. The good guy and the infamous orgasm.
Oh, and that orgasm? It was the best kind.
The kind that happened before you realized it. The kind that swallowed you up from head to toe, leaving no part of you unaffected. The kind of orgasm that made you light-headed and your limbs completely weak. It stole the air from your lungs, the thoughts right out of your brain, leaving behind a woman in her most primal form.
My fingers delving into his muscles then pulling through his hair like wind whipping through a field of grass, directionless and wild. Clawing, gasping for air, opening my legs and receiving so much pleasure that all I could do was make noises. Stray cries and muffled screams. Nothing more than a reaction to the highest form of pleasure.
I really did not think this was out there.
I mean even if I thought maybe it existed, I knew it wasn’t in Brett. Obviously, I knew Brett was
n’t, uh, a superhero. Hell, he would be lucky to be an extra in a movie.
I did think, though, that real life was more like meeting extras than the stars. Sure, the stars are out there, in theory, but I’ll never have a star. I’ll never even have the co-star. But an extra? That’s real. I see extras every day.
The orgasm told me the remaining things I needed to know.
The stars do exist. That was the first thing that took me by surprise. Then those stars… they were relatable. They didn’t act the way I thought that big, muscled, beautiful men behaved. They were type cast and I bought into it. Rather than conceited and unapproachable, they were loving and genuine right away and that was, sadly, surprising to me. I let the world tell me they didn’t exist and when I met them, the world whispered in my ear that they were too good for me. But Bodhi proved that to be wrong, too.
The last surprise was this.
Because they can be real and look amazing and be silly and have a skeptical dog named Grandma, but do they care about more than their own dick’s in bed?
Bodhi let me taste him because I fell to my knees like a peasant worshipping her Lord as soon as I saw his cock and that drool-worthy piercing. But he didn’t let himself finish first.
He pleased me first.
And I don’t even think what he did to me can be called “pleasing”, anyway.
It was… so much more.
He stroked the tops of my thighs with his big rough hands as he moved his mouth up and down my slit, licking slowly and tenderly. The way he ate me was intimate, he didn’t tell me he loved my wet pussy, there was no rush, and he never put his fingers inside of me. His mouth made love to my sex and it was incredible.
I think I will literally hear the noise of his tongue moving through me in my dreams.
Looking between my legs to see Thor tasting me like it’s his first, last and only meal?
I wanted to watch him forever. I wanted to feel him forever. I never wanted the experience of being eaten out by Bodhi to end.
But it had been way too freaking long since I’d been with a guy in any form. And as soon as he started moving the pad of his tongue back and forth against my clit, I knew I was toast.