“Damn, that looks good,” I hummed, taking another mental shot.
“Exactly what I was thinking.” He slowly ran his fingers up and down his shaft.
So hot!
I pulled and tugged on my nipples, feeling the wetness gather in my folds. Then I raised my breast to my mouth and sucked on my nipple.
“Holy fucking shit. You’re killing me here.”
“Now you’re flinging the ‘holys.’ Come here and suck the other side.”
He climbed on the bed beside me, licked his lips, and lowered his mouth to my nipple. We both sucked, his hands getting in on the action until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Okay, okay. Go back there.” I waved to the end of the bed. “Otherwise I’ll just jump you and forgo the show.”
“We have plenty of time for that.” He stood back at the foot of the bed and watched me crawl my fingers down my stomach, stopping to play with the light smattering of hair leading to my honey pot. “Jesus,” he hissed.
With my knees spread wide and up, I splayed my lips apart, exposing my clit. With our eyes locked, I teased my arousal, circling my hips in time. My other hand dipped into my juices and spread them down over my anus.
His eyes flamed with desire.
I felt certain I would never tire of that look. “No one has ever looked at me like that,” I confessed, pausing in my play.
“I’ve never been so turned on in my life. Have you done this before?”
“Tons of times, but never for an audience.”
“Praise the Great Spirit and the ancestors.”
I clicked the top of the oil bottle and coated my fingers, rubbing them around my ass. I dipped my finger inside, spreading the oil around.
“Blue,” he groaned. He had a stranglehold on his cock.
As much as I avoided men his size, I had to admit, I’d never laid eyes on a better looking man: his smooth, cut coppery chest, abs, and the V. Other than his sad eyes and cock, the V was his finest feature.
“Don’t stop,” he pleaded.
Our gaze reconnected, and I worked a finger into my ass past the second knuckle. A little gush trickled out and I blushed. “This might be very wet.”
“Good. I want to see you work another finger in there.”
I swirled the first finger around, pushing at the sides and then inserted a second.
“I wish I could be kissing you right now, but I don’t want to miss a thing.”
I loosened the area, sliding my fingers in and out, pulling at the sides of my entrance. “Can you hand me the glass?”
He slipped off the sock and handed it to me. “It’s very cold.”
“I know. It makes it even more stimulating.”
“Damn.” A pearl of precum crested the tip of his cock.
“Bring that over to me,” I beckoned.
He straddled my face and I licked and suckled the tip of his cock, savoring his taste. He then stepped back off the bed as I poured oil over the dildo. “Do the ribs in the glass feel good?” he asked.
“Amazing.”
“Fuck! Show me.”
I giggled at him.
The slightly curved, glass phallus had an etched head at the top, spiral ribs along the shaft, and a flared end to hold onto. Wiping my hand off on the towel, I held the invader and perched it at the edge of my hole. I pushed gently, working the cold tip inside. “Holy shit, that’s intense!”
“I think I might spontaneously cum. You are so fucking sexy.”
Watching the landscape of his face, all the tension gone, I reveled in my ability to reach him, even if only sexually. In and out, I worked the phallus, my other hand tapping my clit. Then the waterworks started. I gushed like a mini fountain, the stream endless.
“How much longer?” he groaned.
“That depends.”
“On?”
“Do you want me to cum with the glass in my ass or you?”
“Blue, my very naughty girl?”
“Yes, love.”
“Me.”
I pulled out the glass and handed him the oil. “Please go slowly, and you might want to grab the other towel.”
We placed another folded towel under my hips, then he dragged the towels and me to the edge of the mattress. So excited, I watched him oil up his cock, and had to remind myself to breathe. “Please go slow. You’re longer and thicker than the toy.”
“Okay.” He pushed against my bud, but it took a few times until the head popped in.
“Wait, wait, wait!” I cried. “Holy fuck, oh my god! Give me a second.” My heart pounded erratically, my nipples stiffened, and my pussy flushed. “Okay, okay, easy now.”
“You’re so tight. I’ve never felt anything remotely...” He hitched his hips forward, sliding farther inside and stretching me with his girth.
I struggled to settle my breathing, the sensations so fucking acute.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Okay...”
“Stay with me.” His eyes lassoed mine. About half of his cock slid in and out of me. “I had no idea,” he groaned. “It won’t take me much longer.”
“Ohhh ... me either.” I massaged around my clit, my fingers playing in my gush until my orgasm spasmed and the real waterworks began. My gush morphed into a massive squirt-a-thon, lubricating and opening my ass even more. “Taaate!”
“Jesus, I’m going deeper,” Tate grunted and then growled. “Fuck, I’m cumming, Blue.”
The warm cum of his orgasm filled my ass, his ejaculation firing repeatedly. Then he collapsed on top of me.
So blissed out from my orgasm, I didn’t even mind. My hand absently played with his hair and ran up and down his spine. Several minutes passed as we drifted in our mutual release.
He slowly stirred and pulled out of me. “I’m going to go clean up,” he muttered, without making eye contact.
I used the towels under me to wipe up and wrapped the gifted robe around me. After getting a glass of water from the kitchen, I went out on the deck, wishing I had a cigarette. I was never a smoker, but there were a few times in life that called for one. Really, I just wanted something to do with my hands. Fear hovered at the edges. It seemed as soon as we drew closer to one another, the backup would start. He didn’t look at me when he left the room, so I had no idea which Tate I would be contending with.
He joined me outside, standing by the railing, and immediately said, “You’ve never done that for Bond?” Possessive Tate had apparently shown up.
“You already asked me that.” I pulled my legs in and draped the robe over them.
“Tell me again.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“No. Only you. I’ve never masturbated for anyone other than during sex, and that’s not the same thing.”
“Good.” He breathed out a big sigh and then sat down in the chair next to mine.
“I know I’m breaking my own rule, but why does Bond bother you so much?”
“I don’t like sharing.”
His wife cheated on him. That must be it. I wanted to know what happened after he came, but I was scared to ask. He’d been so much more forthcoming, I was scared to do anything to cause him to go dark again.
“You’re so transparent, Blue.”
“Am I?” I yanked my robe tighter around me.
“Come here.” He opened his arms out to me, and I climbed onto his lap. He held me to his chest and spoke into my hair, “You are amazing and that just before, you were so open and fearless. I’ve never cum so hard in my life.”
“Me, fearless? I’m a walking scaredy-cat.”
“Trust me. You’re incredible.” He lifted my head and kissed me.
The potion of his lips wiped away my insecurities, if only momentarily. I lost myself in his arms and any hope of escaping clean. My heart no longer belonged to me.
“Are you ready for bed?” he asked, scanning my face.
“I’m getting there. Do you have an extra tooth brush?”
“I do.” He lifted me off hi
s lap and took my hand.
The bathroom seemed very small with both of us in it. I sat on the covered toilet and brushed my teeth while he stood over the sink.
“Do you always brush your teeth with your eyes closed?” he asked me after he rinsed his mouth.
“I didn’t realize I was,” I said, holding the toothbrush away from my mouth.
“It’s very cute.”
I rinsed my mouth and said, “I need to pee.”
“So pee.”
“Excuse me?” I blinked my eyes rapidly.
“Have you never peed in front of a lover?”
“No. I grew up making sure the doors were locked.”
“Right. Well, this is different.”
“You first then.”
“Okay.” He stepped around me. “You can help.”
I furrowed my brow and scrunched my nose. Then I smiled. “That could be fun.” I stood behind him, looking around his broad frame and clasping his cock in my hand.
“Gently,” he said with a chuckle.
“Oops, sorry.” I aimed for the toilet and felt the pee come out, first in a trickle, then a torrent. I moved his cock around, drawing my initials.
He laughed.
“Do I shake it when you’re done?”
“I’ll do that,” he said, taking over for me. He stroked up and down a few times and then closed his robe. “Your turn.” He lowered the seat back down.
“I don’t think I can pee with an audience.”
“Try.”
I bit on the inside of my lower lip and then decided to try. I couldn’t fathom why it mattered to him, but it seemed to. Moving the bottom of my robe to the side, I sat down, leaning over my legs.
Tate loomed over me, waiting.
I peered up. “I don’t think—” Then a small stream started, and I let go.
“See, that wasn’t so hard.”
I wiped myself, stood, and flushed the toilet.
Tate turned on the water and we washed our hands together, sharing the soap and sudsing each other’s hands. It was an intimate, romantic moment.
Who would have thought? Not me.
“Are you a spooner?” he asked as we entered the bedroom. He folded the towels from our play and tossed them in the laundry basket in the closet.
As I took off my robe, I said, “I tend to move a lot during the night, but I enjoy being held. Which side is yours?” Glancing up, I took in his odd expression.
His lips were clamped shut. “I sleep in the middle.”
Oops, I thought. He hadn’t thought it through. Either he sleeps on his old side, the side he slept with his wife or he sleeps on her side. Not good. “Should I go?”
“No definitely not. Which side do you sleep on?”
“If you’re facing my bed, then the left side.”
“And with Bond?”
“On the right.” I held my breath, waiting for his response.
“You take the left then.”
I breathed out a sigh of relief and climbed into my side of the bed.
He scooted up against my back and kissed my recent tattoo. His warmth surrounded me, and I couldn’t help noticing the difference between Tate and Bond. Tate’s larger frame covered me from head to toe. I liked it. A lot.
He quickly drifted off, breathing deeply, puffing out into my hair.
I ran through the snapshots in my head and felt hopeful. His heart might be broken, even shattered, but I believed it was on the mend.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Nicest Thing
by Kate Nash
The sun shining into the bedroom woke me. I stretched up my arms and opened my eyes.
Tate, leaning on his elbow, lay watching me. “Good morning, beautiful.”
I blinked my eyes a few times and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “How long have you been awake?”
“For a while.”
“Watching me?”
“And listening.”
I scooted to a sitting position against the headboard, pulling the sheet up to cover me. “What did I say?” Please, no, please, no.
“You sounded like you were having a lot of fun. Moaning and grunting and grinding your hips.”
“Oh my god,” I said, covering my mouth. At least it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. I could have said, “I love Tate,” or worse, “Bond, oh Bond.”
“It was adorable.” He tugged my hand away from my mouth. “Are you hungry?”
“Let’s take a walk on the beach first?”
“Coffee, then walk?”
“Deal.” Carrying the robe with me, I went to the bathroom and freshened up. I ambled to the kitchen, the smell of fresh ground coffee filling my senses.
“How do you like your coffee?” Tate asked, packing coffee into a metal scoop.
“Like coffee ice cream.”
“Seriously?” He looked offended.
“You drink it black? Seriously. Lots of cream and sugar. I don’t drink it often, but when I do...”
He used his fancy machine, creating coffee shots. “Gotcha. Not black for me, although I do drink it that way if I run out of half-and-half.”
“Is my coffee drinking a deal breaker?”
He laughed. “No.” He held out a mug for me. “Sugar’s in the canister on the counter on the other side of the stove. Cream in the fridge.”
“Thanks.” I fixed my coffee and had a sip. “Yum.”
He poured half-and-half into his mug, and we settled outside on the deck.
I squinted into the sunshine. “This is the way to start off a morning. I’m very glad I stayed.”
“So am I.”
I glanced over at Tate and believed him. It seemed to mean something to him, and that warmed my heart.
“What time do you need to be at work?” he asked.
“Four-thirty,” I said, holding the coffee mug in my hands.
“Can I stop by?”
I shrugged. “I’m going over to Bond’s after I get off work.”
“I’ll drive you,” he said, his expression serious.
“Very funny.”
“Why are you going?”
I rested my head against the back of the chair and tilted my body toward him. “It’s personal. He needs some support.”
“In the middle of the night, on a Saturday night? Doesn’t he work until really late?”
“He wanted me to come over last night, if you recall. I’m not sure what you want me to say.”
“Tell me you’re not going to have sex with him or sleep over there. Come to my house after you’re done.”
I looked out over the ocean. “I...” I won’t have sex with Bond, I thought and kept it to myself. I couldn’t possibly. My heart would revolt. If I gave up this last part though, all my boundaries would be gone. It would solely be on Tate’s terms. Fuck!
“Blue, I want you here with me. Look at me.”
My eyes started to fill and I looked up, trying to blink the tears away. “You’re trying to take away my last...”
“Your last what?” He totally startled me when he jerked my chair around so I faced him.
I brought my feet up on the seat and wrapped my arms around my legs.
His hand circled around my foot.
“I’m not sure I’m cut out for this sort of thing,” I mumbled.
He let go of my foot. “The sort of thing you’re already doing with Bond?”
“It’s not the same thing. It doesn’t feel the same.”
“I don’t want it to.” The stern set of his lips indented his cheekbones.
“I wish I could read your expressions. What do you want?”
“I want you, Blue. Please say you will come back here tonight.”
I took a deep breath and exhaled. “Okay.”
“Excellent. Let me take you out to lunch.”
“I’ll have to wear what I wore last night.”
“Let’s get dressed,” he said, standing up. His robe fell open, and I could see his erection.
�
�You’re hard.”
“I have been since this morning, watching you.”
“And this conversation?”
“No.”
“Wow.” I knelt down in front of him and brought his cock to my lips. “Precum too. Hmmm.” Staring up, I said, “Does jousting with me turn you on?”
“No, just having you close.”
Just having me close!
“Double wow.” I breathed in the masculine heat coming off his cock and balls. It was so heady, I felt high on his scent. I closed my mouth over his head, losing myself in the taste and feel of him. Glancing up, I watched him tug on his own nipples. Damn!
He pushed my robe off my shoulders, and it gave me an idea.
I worked both of my hands up and down his shaft and followed the motion with my mouth. “Let me know when you’re close,” I muttered.
“Not far. Oh, there ... you go. Close,” he moaned, burying his hands in my hair and schooling my mouth around his cock.
I let him have control as I continued to run one hand along his length and fondled his tight, scrunched balls.
“Oh, just like that. Oh, faster. Yeah!” He bobbed my head up and down on him and then grunted, “Now!”
I took the first shot of his ejaculate in my mouth and then let his orgasm spray across my chest and nipples.
“Goddamn,” he said, collapsing back on the railing.
With my hands, I spread his cum all around my breasts, rubbing it into my skin.
“Jesus, woman, what are you doing?” He brushed his hair back from his face while struggling to catch his breath.
“Wearing you to lunch.” I peered up and jumped for joy over his expression.
Ruddy lust riddled his features. “I’m hard again.”
“I see that. It’s hard to miss.”
“I want to fuck you, hard, right now, but more so, I want to sit in a restaurant knowing my cum is covering your beautiful nipples and breasts. Let’s get dressed.”
We strolled inside and rinsed out our mugs in the kitchen sink. I gathered up my clothes and followed Tate to the bedroom. I slipped into my panties and matching, sheer bra. After donning my jeans, I reached down for my shirt.
“Wear one of my shirts,” he said, opening the closet door.
“Dude, you’re like twice my size.”
“I need to see some cleavage. No point in taking you out with my cum all over you and not be able to see where you rubbed it in.” He rummaged in a drawer and pulled out a white V-neck T-shirt. “Lift your arms.” He lowered the shirt over my head and the V dipped beyond the edge of my bra. In his hands, he gathered the white cotton, yanking it down slightly in the back. Then he tied a knot at my hip. “Damn hot,” he said, walking me over to the dresser mirror.
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