All my nerve endings reached for something and then, like an explosion, sensation rushed down to my center and detonated. I was grateful to be lying down, because my legs felt like noodles, and I could only see sparkles of light.
Bo kept his hand firmly against me, drawing out as many shudders and shocks from my body as he could, and when I finally came down off my high, he withdrew his hand. He wiped his fingers on the sweatshirt that he’d discarded upon entering the room and applied soft soothing kisses on my lips, cheek and jaw. The hand that had caressed my core now moved in long strokes up and down the side of my body. I drew him down on top of me, wanting to feel his delicious weight press mine into the mattress.
As I felt his insistent erection against my stomach, I knew I wanted to give him the same pleasure, have him under my thumb just as he’d overpowered me with emotion and need. Bo pushed upright and lifted the heavy fall of my hair aside as I slid off the bed to kneel in front of him. “You don’t need to do this.”
I pressed my hand against his thighs and stared up at him. “I want to.”
The button had already come undone and I unzipped his jeans. Underneath he was completely nude, and his heavy cock fell forward, free of its constraints. I pressed my face into his hair and rubbed my cheek against the soft skin of his erection. It bobbed against my cheek. He smelled of male sweat and musk. I licked his skin between his leg and crotch and tasted the delicious salty flavor. His leg buckled, and Bo readjusted, bracing one knee against the bed, one hand hard against my shoulder. With his free hand, he stroked my hair tenderly.
I rained soft kisses down the hard length of him and licked the top softly. There was a spot of liquid on the tip and I lapped it up. Bo groaned, and the hand in my hair turned to a fist as he tightened his hold. His hips moved forward, as if wanting to be deeper inside, but he asked for nothing, waiting for me to set the pace.
I’d never enjoyed this in the past, but with Bo it felt natural and good. I inhaled his smell, felt the crisp hairs against my nose as I bent forward. Everything about this felt right. His shaft was thick on my tongue. I could hear him panting; it seemed as if he were breathing harder now than he had during the fight. I ran my tongue over the ridge as I mouthed him.
Bo reached along my arm and grabbed my hand. He brought it up to his shaft and wrapped my hand around the base. He moved his hand in short, hard movements, in the same rhythm as my mouth. It was unbearably exciting to have him touching himself over my hand. Under my hair, his other hand palmed the back of my head, providing support. When I’d gotten the gist of the movement he wanted, he brought his hand up from his cock and stroked my cheek, feeling the hollows as I sucked and pumped.
I could feel his balls tighten against the back of my hand as I twisted and pumped like he showed me. As I could feel his release coming, Bo pulled out of my mouth.
“Don’t you…”
“No, I want to finish inside of you.”
I dabbed my finger on the tip and tasted his pre-come.
“Jesus.” He gave a small rueful laugh. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“It doesn’t taste bad. Kind of salty.” I looked up at him. “I wouldn’t have minded if you came in my mouth. I thought that’s what guys like.”
He drew me to my feet and kissed me hard and full on the lips for a long time. “It felt great, just having you touch me. If you want to try this later, and you want to swallow, great, but we aren’t going to do that without you telling me you want to do it before we even start. Anytime we do anything, I want to know that you’re fully into it, not in the heat of the moment because you think I like it. Besides,” he flashed a quick grin at me, “I’m going to like everything with you. Now I need to take off your clothes and continue to debauch you.”
We looked depraved with both of our jeans unbuttoned and unzipped. My bra was half on, half off. Yet I didn’t feel an ounce of shame. The pleasure in Bo’s eyes only made me want to preen.
Bo pressed me back to the bed and pulled his shirt over his head in one motion. He paused, dumped what sounded like a thousand coins on my desk, and dropped his jeans. His cock was rock-hard, and it tented the cotton. I licked my lips, remembering the taste and feel of him in my mouth.
“Sunshine, if you keep looking at me, pretty sure I’m going to come prematurely, which my fragile ego might not be able to deal with.”
“I think that’d be kind of hot,” I admitted with an arched eyebrow.
“You’re not helping,” Bo growled, pulling me into a seated position.
Bo’s hands reached for the bottom of my t-shirt, and he swept it up and off. Another swift motion disposed of my jeans. He took a moment to give me a sustained look and dragged one long hand down my front, starting at my neck, ending at the core of me he’d played so expertly before. My panties were wet from my orgasm and my renewed arousal.
When I reached behind me to unclasp my bra, he stopped me.
“Let me,” he said and he undid the back clasp and pulled the straps down slowly, first one arm and then the other. Goose bumps covered me.
“Bo, please, now,” I urged him. I ached so much. I needed him inside of me.
He bent over, his large body covering mine, and licked the tip of my nipple lightly.
I hit him in the arm lightly. “Don’t be a tease.”
“So greedy,” he murmured, sucking at one nipple and then the other, the sensation causing my back to arch. I wanted more pressure, hard and now.
I reached between us and caught his heavy erection in my hand. His shaft pulsed and jerked against my palm. I rubbed him like he had taught me and he moaned.
“Yes, I am really, really greedy,” I whispered. This time I felt him shudder.
“What’re you greedy for? This?” he asked, pressing into my hand.
“Yes, Bo.” I tightened my hand around him and he growled his approval. But he pulled himself out of my grip, and I let out a mew of disappointment at the loss of the weight of him in my hands.
But my sense of loss was soon diverted by the attention he was lavishing on my breasts. His tongue dipped around their swells, in the valley between them. Every part of my chest was marked by his lips, tongue, and teeth, from the upper curves of my breasts to the hardened nipple points to the sensitive sides and the tender skin underneath.
“You ready?” he asked, looking up at me.
I wiggled my hips. Yes, I was ready. I wanted the touch of his flesh against mine more than anything. But instead of rising above me, he moved even lower. He pressed his face right between my legs and took a deep breath. Before I could even be self-conscious about our positions, Bo’s mouth was between my legs, his hands on my inner thighs, urging them apart.
“I want to live down here,” Bo said, stroking me lightly. “When you’re running your own business, I’m going to come into your office every noon and eat you.”
My choked laughter turned to moans as he began tonguing me in earnest. Flattening his tongue, he licked me in long slow sweeps. He worked one and then two fingers inside me, scissoring them, rubbing them against the front wall of my core until he hit a spot that made me jump away and cry out, but his other hand grabbed my hip and held me firm against his mouth. He began plunging his fingers inside me, rubbing against the small spot of flesh that was so sensitive, and I jerked with each movement. His tongue flicked my clitoris, and I could see his cheeks hollowed out as he sucked hard on my flesh.
The sensations he was drawing out were too strong, too powerful. I heard harsh gasps of breath in the air and realized it was me. My body was quivering and building toward something, a physical release that was so pleasurable it was almost painful. I could feel my inner walls spasming and I tried to draw away, but Bo wouldn’t let me; his tongue and mouth and fingers held me firmly as he drank down my orgasm.
My body felt boneless, and when Bo slid out from between my legs to kneel in front of me, I could only move my eyes, and even that felt like too much of an effort.
“Fucking del
icious,” Bo said. His mouth was glistening from me but instead of wiping it off, he brought the fingers that he’d had inside of me and licked them clean. That dirty movement made me so hot that I felt a surge of energy. “I’m gonna want to do that for at least an hour next time.”
Dazed by the second orgasm so close on the heels of my first, I gripped Bo’s biceps and leveraged myself into a sitting position on my knees so we were face to face. His hands slid to my waist to steady me. I applied myself to mapping out more of Bo’s body, memorizing every hill and valley of skin and muscle and sinew and bone. He shuddered when I ran my fingers over his nipple, and his hands tightened on my waist as I pressed my tongue against him. With each lick and press of my mouth and fingers, Bo gave me sensory and auditory feedback. I learned what he liked and where he liked to be touched. What parts were sensitive and what parts were just nice. His sides were sensitive. His breath caught when I licked behind his ears. His knees were ticklish. When his cock bobbed up for attention, I looked up at Bo. “Let’s hope you know how to use that monster.”
He threw his head back and laughed with pure pleasure and happiness. “I do. I promise.”
He took charge then, leaning over to shake a condom from his jeans. He rolled down the rubber and then dipped his fingers between my legs to gather some of my natural lubrication. I watched in fascination as he rubbed his fingers over his erection and then as he guided himself between my legs.
“This is an amazing sight, isn’t it?” Bo whispered. I nodded in agreement. It was incredibly erotic. His body was braced over mine, the veins in his big arms standing prominently against the skin. A film of sweat covered his upper torso and arms. Everywhere I looked, I saw Bo’s hard, straining body around me. Above me, beside me, and between my legs.
He slowly eased into me, the wetness of my two orgasms and the sweat of our bodies making his path smooth and slick. I drew up my legs so that he could seat himself even deeper and he groaned his approval. “Fuck yes, Sunshine. Take me deep.”
His words made me even hotter and wilder. He hooked one arm under my knee, and I brought my leg up to rest against his shoulder. I was totally spread for his penetration. The thick length of him rubbed against every internal nerve. I could feel my body tightening as the now-familiar signals told me yet another orgasm was soon upon me.
His hips began to pump against me in a faster and faster rhythm. I hung on to his neck, pulling myself up against him. His hand dug into my ass as we strained to get closer, closer. His mouth dropped to my ear, and he growled, “Are you there?”
“Close, so close,” I panted. He reared up onto his haunches with barely a break in his rhythm and began hauling my hips in short up-and-down movements as he rocked inside of me. His thumb touched the top of my clit, and it felt like he had pushed a button to release the top of my head. At the sound of my scream of release, Bo let go and slammed into me, his balls touching my ass with every deep, fast, hard stroke. He shouted out his own release and then collapsed on top of me. I stroked his back, smoothing my hands down the sweat-slicked skin.
“When I said that I wanted you to give me a chance, I didn’t mean have sex,” Bo mumbled against the pillow.
“I know,” I replied. “It’s a perk.”
Bo’s big body rumbled against me in amusement. A light streamed through from the hallway, and I noticed we hadn’t even closed the door properly. I hadn’t heard Ellie come in, but an elephant could have been rampaging through the apartment and I wouldn’t have noticed. All I could do was laugh in rueful embarrassment.
“Don’t ever laugh after you’ve had sex,” Bo mumbled into my neck. “It gives us performance anxiety.” He rolled over onto his back and then off the bed. He hitched up his jeans, closed the door, and went into the bathroom. I heard the faucet turn on, the toilet flush, and a little rustling. When he returned from the bathroom, he was completely nude. If I’d had an ounce of life left in me, I’d have been excited, but Bo had pretty much screwed me into a state of extreme lethargy. I crawled under the covers and held them up, and he climbed in beside me.
Chapter Nineteen
AM
SLEEPING WITH BO SEEMED TO change everything. It spurred Ellie into moving things along with Ryan. “If you can take the plunge, then I will, too,” Ellie declared when she came home to see Bo dressed in my ill-fitting boxers and nothing else, making mac and cheese. I hustled him into the bedroom to dress while he and Ellie laughed at my bright red face.
Of course Bo wasn’t embarrassed that Ellie had seen him almost nude. I was the one who couldn’t think about it without looking like a tomato.
“Don’t worry, Sunshine,” Bo whispered in my ear as he passed out the bowls of pasta. “I get it. You don’t want to share me.”
In anticipation of Valentine’s Day, a day both Ellie and I despised despite actually having the potential for dates this year, we arranged to watch Magic Mike on Friday night. Bo and Ryan insisted on staying over. The apartment seemed crowded with two rather large males roaming about. Add in Sasha and Brian and I felt like we were hosting a Super Bowl party or something.
Bo was convinced that all of the cast were gay, as no straight man had any decent moves. Ryan then put on a little performance in the living room, both by shaking his booty and then kissing the hell out of Ellie until she was the one red as a fruit.
When we all went down to the Garden that evening, Bo showed off a few moves of his own, which proved that he was once again yanking our chains just to see our reactions.
On Saturday, we ran a few more mayo experiments in one of the houses Bo was helping Finn flip, using people we’d pulled off a Craigslist ad Bo had posted a week ago. The results were largely the same. The women asked for help and the men usually went without. There were deviations, of course. Whether this was the result of social conditioning, however, was something we couldn’t figure out.
We spent all Sunday in bed because the newness of our relationship made us so horny that being in public was actually a dangerous activity. Sasha had had to pull us off the dance floor earlier that week, stating that even at the Garden, some propriety had to be observed.
“You look very good in the morning,” Bo said Sunday morning. He looked edible himself, with his hair mussed from our late night and early morning activities. I stroked a hand over it, more to just enjoy the soft springy feel than to smooth it down.
“What do you want to do today?” he asked, leaning over to kiss my forehead. He tenderly brushed the hair out of my eyes and smiled at me like I was the best thing he’d ever seen.
“I don’t want to move,” I admitted. “Or put clothes on. I just want to stay right here and touch you.”
“Great minds think alike,” he whispered, pulling me on top of him. I felt his cock growing hard against my thigh and felt my own body dampen in response. His palms rested on my hips, repositioning me until our centers were pressed hard flesh against softness. I rocked against him, but his hands kept me from slipping that delicious firmness inside me. Instead he dragged me up and down his length, all the while running his hot, open mouth along my neck.
I curled my arms around his shoulders and held on as he slowly rubbed against me, like we were teenagers in the backseat, and I’d only agreed to over-the-clothes touching.
“Are we sixteen?” I gasped when his cock’s head hit a particularly sensitive part.
“If you were sixteen, you’d be jailbait. But,” and he paused for a second, “I’d still want to be all over you. And inside you.”
“Come inside me now, then,” I pleaded. I tried to wedge a hand between us so I could guide him right to the spot where I needed him.
“Shhh, we’ve got all day,” Bo said.
With that, I tamped down my impatience and allowed myself to be swept up by Bo’s desire.
CLASS THE FOLLOWING WEEK WAS particularly difficult. We couldn’t keep our hands of each other. The professor didn’t say a word, but I felt like he caught us a time or two.
I had to b
e the good one, because Bo claimed he had no self-control. What he really meant was that he had no desire to exert it now that we were together.
His hand crept onto my leg, higher and higher. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him to touch me. Rather it was that I responded to him too easily. He’d absently rub his fingers against the inseam of my jeans, and I’d get wet and have to sit there trying to take notes while aroused and uncomfortable. It wasn’t easy.
“Can you not place your hand on my leg,” I hissed at the beginning of class on Wednesday. I’d barely made it out of Bio on Monday without having an orgasm from just his hand resting on my thigh.
“Will you place yours on mine instead?” Bo bargained.
“No, I won’t.” I frowned at him.
“I’m glad I’m a lefty. Makes it easier to take notes and stroke you at the same time.” Bo looked smug, as if he had willed himself into being left-hand dominant for just the purpose of being able to multitask with his girlfriend during class.
“I’m trying to concentrate, and you’re making it too hard,” I complained.
“Lord, I’m the one who’s hard all the time.” Bo smiled perversely. “But I like it.” Suddenly his mood turned serious. “Am I really bothering you? Because I’ll stop.”
His blue eyes filled with worry. He was always so concerned about how I felt: whether it was good for me in bed, if I had the right kind of food; if should he carry me over the snow-covered walk so my boots wouldn’t get wet. I cupped his cheek and gave him a sweet kiss. “It’s all good.”
I did love his hand on my thigh or around my shoulders. His near-constant attention and his need for regular physical connection made me feel secure and desirable.
Unspoken (The Woodlands) Page 17