Boss Me

by Claire Adams

  I simply slid the curtain open and stepped in. He was surprised to see me but quickly collected himself. We stared at each other’s bodies as the water drenched us both. I ran my hands up and down his abs and chest while he tightened his grip around my sides, pulling me closer to his lengthening muscle.

  I looked in his eyes, wordlessly ensuring that we had an understanding.

  And so, we stood together in the shower, letting the water run down our naked bodies. I held his thick cock in my hands as his hands reached down to rub my clit.

  We rubbed each other slowly, never getting too carried away. At times, he would scoot closer to me, hopeful. At times, I would graze the tip of his eager cock against my wet lips to tease him.

  At one point, I pushed him against the shower wall and did something I rarely did. I ground up against him, pushing myself hard against his long shaft, always touching but never enveloping. I felt immense satisfaction while feeling him against me.

  It felt like something we would have done before the bet had concluded. It felt simpler and yet at the same time, invigorating.

  At times, we held onto each other. We kissed sensually while the water hit us like a heavy rain. I felt secure and safe in his arms.

  Chapter Thirty

  Sawyer

  “Don’t you dare take that blindfold off!” I yelled at Hannah.

  “I want to know where we’re going!” she yelled back, putting her fingers along the edges of her blindfold. I moved her hands away from her eyes.

  “Just trust me; it’s going to be great,” I said.

  It was a Saturday evening. We weren’t in bed, and the blindfold wasn’t something I had introduced to her sexually (yet). I was driving us in circles, hoping to throw her off the scent to ensure she had no idea where we were going.

  Hannah insisted that she loved surprises, and I was determined to give her one. I also wanted her to indulge in her sexual fantasy about sex in public. I had thought tirelessly of a way for it to work, and I was confident that she would be satisfied.

  But as I drove, procrastinating and building suspense, I began to fear that my idea was stupid or that she would be underwhelmed. There was pressure where there hadn’t been before. I didn’t just want her to be satisfied; I wanted her to really be into it, like she had been during so many of our other encounters. Our times together only seemed to improve, and we only seemed to be going up. I speculated that we would hit a peak, and it would only go downhill from there. After all, I had never stayed involved with only one woman for so long.

  Before I went into over-analyzing the situation, I decided to set course for the destination: Lake Mendota, which wasn’t far from where we lived. We arrived fairly quickly.

  Fresh snow wasn’t falling, but the area was covered in it. Empty parking spots were dusted with frost. The lake was still frozen and had been since the last year. There were a few other cars parked around the lake, but overall, the area was mostly quiet.

  The frozen lake was dotted with ice fishing huts, where many had set up camps to go fishing. Plenty of fish remained active while under the ice, and Wisconsinites weren’t going to let the harsh temperatures stop them from trying to catch them. It was hard to tell which huts had people and which were empty.

  I parked the car, and before I could speak, Hannah removed her blindfold.

  “No, not yet!” I said. I was disappointed but didn’t let it show.

  “Is this… Lake Mendota?” Hannah asked, confused.

  “Indeed, it is!” I said, throwing open my car door. I stepped out and walked over to her side.

  She opened her door. “I didn’t think you were the outdoorsy type.”

  “Sure I am!” I said. “Just because you only know me as your roommate doesn’t mean I don’t have vast, eclectic tastes!”

  “Oh… well, I guess I just thought you—I mean… I’m not particularly an outdoorsy person, myself.”

  My heart sank. I felt like just shutting her door and starting the Camaro back up.

  “So… why are we here?” she asked.

  “I thought we would have a… spontaneous… new… adventure!” I said with less confidence. “In fact, if you’ll come with me, I’ll show you what I had in mind.”

  Grinning, she took my hand and stepped out of the car. I guided us to the edge of the lake. We looked out at the ice-fishing huts, taking in the scenery. My eyes locked onto one particular hut towards the center of the lake.

  “Are we going fishing?” she asked, nudging me.

  “Just trust me,” I repeated.

  “Now I know why you told me to wear these shoes,” she said, looking down at her feet. The shoes I asked her to wear had better traction and grip than her usual footwear.

  We stepped out onto the ice. I kept a firm grip on her hand, and I led us to the hut in the center. I intended on keeping hold of her until we got into the hut, but I wanted her to wear better shoes as a precaution. We occasionally missed our footing, but we never fell.

  I opened the hut’s entrance, allowing her to go in first. She gasped. My confidence had returned.

  I stepped in and watched her take it all in: inside the hut, there was a huge heater running next to two large cots each with their own high-grade sleeping bags. There was a table in the middle of the hut, with a cooler in one of the chairs.

  She turned to look at me, smiling widely, but still confused.

  “What is all this?” she asked.

  “I told you—spontaneous adventure,” I said. I opened the cooler to reveal two bottles of wine and a tray of sushi.

  “That’s a lot of wine,” she commented.

  “I got a bottle of white and a bottle of red,” I said. “I didn’t want to deprive you of your red, in case that’s what you wanted, but I didn’t want to deprive me of white. I didn’t want you drinking all the wine yourself.”

  She bit her lip. She walked up to me, inches from my face.

  “And the sushi?” she asked.

  “Well… I didn’t exactly bring any fishing equipment.”

  “I noticed,” she said. “I don’t see a hole anywhere in here… I’m not too keen on cutting a hole myself either.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” I assured her. “That’s why I brought the fish here ready to eat. Plus, I hate fishing.”

  “So, that makes even more sense why we’re out here in a fishing hut,” she said, leaning closer to my lips.

  “We’re not going to be doing any fishing out here, little lady,” I said, kissing her surprisingly warm lips. “You want to get comfortable?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “What’s your plan out here?”

  “My plan is to have an awesome time with my sexy roommate,” I said, going for the bottle of red wine.

  “You can open the white if you like,” she said, taking a seat on one of the cots.

  “My pleasure.” I opened the bottle of white wine and put two wine glasses on the table.

  “So… there are sleeping bags out here, too,” she said.

  “Astute observational skills, my friend,” I said as I poured the wine.

  “They look like ‘super’ sleeping bags.”

  “That’s because they kind of are,” I said. “They retain heat better than any other sleeping bag out there. They use these out in places like Antarctica, I think.”

  I handed her a glass. We clinked our glasses together and sipped on our icy cold wine. We both unknowingly began setting our glasses close to the heater whenever we put them down.

  “You know, I’ve been by this lake for years,” she commented. “I’ve never once come out here like this. I’ve never been in one of these huts.”

  “Me neither,” I said.

  I could tell she had other brooding questions, but she put them on hold. I began putting individual pieces of sushi onto disposable plates.

  “Antarctica would probably be a really neat place to see,” said Hannah. “I don’t think people like you and me are even allowed to go, are we?”
>
  “I don’t know…”

  “Hmm.” She drank more of her wine. “If you could travel anywhere on Earth, where would it be?”

  “Hmm,” I replied. “Wow. Good question. There’s a lot of places out there.”

  “I know, and I want to know where you would go if you could.”

  Even though I was concentrating more on not dropping any of the sushi, I did try and search for an easy answer, even if it wasn’t my “top choice.”

  “I’m going to go with… Los Angeles,” I said.

  “Los Angeles?” she said, surprised. “Really? Anywhere on Earth? You’d stay in the same country, even?”

  “Hey, I’ve lived in Wisconsin for most of my life,” I said. “Spring and summer are mild at best, and we don’t have anything to see here in Madison. You have to go to Milwaukee just to go to a museum worth a damn.”

  “You like going to museums?” she asked in an even more surprised tone.

  “No, but I know there’s a big one in Milwaukee,” I chuckled.

  I looked at her. She was shivering and looking around the hut constantly. My confidence began to fade as quickly as it had reappeared.

  “You know, Hannah, you’re not hurting my feelings if you think this sucks, or if you don’t want to be out here,” I said. “You’re sweet to have come this far. But don’t feel like shit on my account.”

  She smiled. “I think this is amazing.”

  I suspected that she was exercising hyperbole, but I didn’t want to overanalyze. Instead, I sat down, and we ate our sushi together.

  I had intentionally positioned her chair to be close to the heater, but she was still shivering. I took off my leather jacket and draped it over her, which she quickly hugged close to her body.

  “Thank you,” she said beaming.

  “What about you?” I asked after I swallowed my bite of food. “If you could go anywhere, where would you go?”

  “Los Angeles could be fun,” she said.

  “There are beaches and sun,” I informed. “We could go on a studio tour and look at some of the props from some of your favorite nineties rom-coms.”

  “I have eclectic tastes, too! I don’t just watch romantic comedies.”

  “You’re not going to get away with that,” I said. “Come on, think of the globe and pick a spot. We’ll go there together in our imaginations.”

  We drank some more wine. I kept staring at her, waiting for an answer.

  “I’m going to say… Paris,” she said.

  “Any particular reason?” I asked.

  “I’ve never been to Europe,” she said. “What better place to start a European journey than in Paris? I think it’s a beautiful city. And I like the language.”

  “You girls and your accents,” I said. “You just go crazy for those sexy accents, don’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t say I go crazy… Don’t you like girls with sexy accents?”

  I didn’t have to think long. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  “Well, we should do that sometime,” she said lightly. “We’ll go visit L.A. for a week, go to Paris for a week, then finish up in Antarctica.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I playfully concurred.

  We finished our meals in good time. I had refilled our glasses and moved the table a few inches closer to the heater.

  She leaned close to the warm air, taking it in. She closed her eyes, and I worried that if she got too comfortable, she could doze off, and that was not part of the plan.

  “Don’t you go falling asleep on me just yet,” I said to her.

  “We’re not going to sleep in the cots tonight?” she asked.

  “Not before the main event; there’s something you need to do first.”

  “Which is?”

  “I want you to get inside one of those sleeping bags, take off your clothes, and pass them to me.”

  Her eyes widened. I took glee in knowing that I could still surprise her.

  “…And why am I doing that, exactly?” she asked.

  “Because, we’re about to fulfill your sex fantasy,” I answered. “We’re in public right now. There are people on the lake with us, scattered randomly in these other huts. But we won’t be bothered because I rented our hut for the whole night. As long as we stay relatively quiet, people will just think we’re in here fishing.”

  She was mulling over my proposition.

  “Really, the sleeping bag is quite warm,” I assured. “You’re going to feel overheated in there with your clothes on, don’t worry.”

  She downed the rest of her wine with haste. Before I knew it, she was on her feet, standing by one of the cots and eyeing the sleeping bag on it. She looked back at me, tossed me my leather jacket, and began unzipping the sleeping bag.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Hannah

  I was nervous, but I was becoming more aroused by the second.

  I assumed that Sawyer’s goal was for us to mess around and have sex, even though the sleeping bags looked restricting and limited when it came to space. Luckily, I enjoyed whenever he was close enough for me to feel his breath on my skin. I was happily anticipating the feeling of his warmth against me and inside me, knowing that the night would only grow colder.

  I sat on the edge of my cot, removing my boots slowly. I was trying to be seductive, and I wasn’t sure if it was coming across that way. He was certainly aroused, regardless. Once the boots were off, I slid into the sleeping bag, zipping it up behind me.

  My nerves were not based on the idea of someone “catching us” or somehow knowing what we were really doing inside our fishing hut. Within the first few seconds of being inside my sleeping bag, I realized my nerves were not based on a fear of what the harsh cold might do to us. Those elements only served excite me.

  I concluded that it must have been Sawyer himself that made me nervous. That didn’t make sense to me since I had never been nervous around him before. I had never felt intimidated by him and yet, for some reason, I felt an abnormal angst take over my body.

  I wondered if my apprehension had something to do with the unfamiliarity of it all. Not only was this going to be a new sexual experience for me, but it was with a man who, until then, I had given little rein to. I said no to him for a month, and once I said yes, it was generally me who initiated. A big reason why I agreed to Sawyer’s “spontaneous trip” suggestion was that I didn’t want to be the only one who made decisions in our partnership, especially considering I did want him to have some control. The animalistic dynamics between men and women can be unbelievably complex.

  I wanted to play with the animal that I knew was inside him and hungry for me. I snuggled into the sleeping bag, moving around in it aimlessly.

  “It’s comfy in here…” I muttered.

  “You look like a Hannah burrito,” he chuckled.

  “Well, come over here and taste me then.”

  He walked over to the foot of my cot, grinning at me.

  “Your clothes,” he said in a funny accent. “Give them to me, now.”

  I decided that I would toy with Sawyer’s patience since we were playing by his rules. It was a simple tactic, but me taking my time and working him up had worked wonders before. I liked to tease him, but even I didn’t waste much time whenever we were ready to unite our bodies again.

  Once I started taking my clothes off, I didn’t break eye contact with him. He watched me as I moved, slowly and methodically, in my comfy cocoon. I started with my outer layer of sweater and sweatshirt, tossing them onto the floor.

  I lifted my legs into the air, and I slid my pants off up my legs and down in the bag. I pulled my pants out of the bag and tossed them to him. He caught them easily.

  “No panties…” he commented, looking in my pants.

  “Patience,” I said. “You’re lucky I’m not making you take off your clothes yet.”

  Without a word, he caught up to me in our now collective striptease. His outer layers were gone, and he was quickly unzipping his pants
, revealing his boxers that concealed his hard cock.

  “You can take them off in your sleeping bag, you know…” I said. “You’ll catch hypothermia.”

  “Baby, my body feels so hot right now, I could probably melt the lake,” he said. “What? Do you not want me to strip?”

  “I didn’t say that…”

  Taking my time and letting out an occasional moan and giggle to stir him up, I removed my shirt and threw it at him, missing him and having it land on the floor.

  As he removed his shirt to reveal more of his magnificent body, I wiggled my way up out of the sleeping bag just enough that it covered only my lower half. I looked up at him, wearing only my bra, panties, and my socks. He stared at my bra, admiring it. It was lacy and pushed up just enough to give him something to think about.

  I took off my bra even slower than I had my pants or shirt. I loved seeing his eyes locked onto me, unblinking, not wanting to miss a moment of what I was doing. Once the bra was finally off, I kept it rested against my chest, watching him physically becoming flustered. I wondered if I was mistaking his frustration for discomfort.

  “You sure you’re not cold out there?” I asked.

  “Definitely,” he answered.

  I suspected he was speaking on behalf of his hubris more than his honest feelings, but I decided not to push it. Instead, I removed my bra and sat it on the cot. I played with my breasts, rubbing them with my hands and massaging them. Sawyer slid his hand down his boxers and began to stroke himself.

  “My nipples could cut diamonds at this point,” I said.

  I played with my nipples, pinching them lightly and caressing them. He began to pleasure himself so aggressively that I feared he would erupt before he even had a chance to pierce my wet walls.

  “You could probably make me cum if you touched them with your tongue,” I said suggestively. “Do you want to put my breasts in your mouth, Sawyer?”

  “Oh, fuck yeah, you know I do,” he growled.

  It was then that I decided to slide my moist panties down my legs (that were covered in goose-pimples) and throw them to him. He caught them, and with his free hand, he slid down his boxers. His throbbing erection was waving in the air, pointed at me. I wanted nothing else but to touch him.