by Liv Morris
She, of course, hears the brush hit the tile and turns, raising her brows at me with a sweet smirk. “Need something, babe?”
I nod, afraid to speak as my voice might crack like a randy teenager. “And what would that be?”
“I, um—”
“You dropped something,” she points out, bending down in front of me to pick up my paintbrush for me, then walking back to the sink, wetting a rag. “Let me wipe that up before it dries.”
Now she’s on her hands and knees, and once the mess is gone and the rag tossed on the counter, she maintains position. She looks up at me, eyes almost black, darkened with seduction. “What is it you said you needed?”
One thing I haven’t quite mastered yet, which I suspect is a problem for all men, is exactly what flips her switch. She’s almost never the aggressor, so it sets my blood to boil when Laney turns it on, takes the reins, and makes it brazenly clear she wants me. I try to catalog the moments, like now, to find the common denominator—a word I use, certain clothes, a look— anything to clue me in to the trigger, but so far I remain dumbfounded. The day I figure it out? That’ll be the day I weep like a baby and praise the heavens on my knees.
But for now, I’ll just be thankful for it happening on its own every once in a blue moon.
“I need whatever you wanna give me, baby,” I answer honestly.
“Hmm.” She rises on her knees, lifting the bottom of my shirt and tracing the lines in my abs with the tip of her tongue. “And I need for you to take this shirt off.”
I reach behind my head and pull it off in a blink, tossing it somewhere. “Now what?”
Any time I can get Laney talking, I increase my odds that she’ll talk dirty, taking me to a whole new stratosphere. When I’m in charge, I’m all the way in charge, but every once in a while…my girl makes me crazy. I love her filthy mouth when I can get it going.
She unbuttons my shorts, pulling down my zipper as she peers up at me. “You tell me.”
What a tease, already giving up. I lean over her, placing both my hands on the counter. “No, baby, this is your show. I wanna see what you got.”
Rising to the challenge, she kisses my abdomen, my hips, and drops my shorts and briefs to my ankles. My dick is rock hard; I think it may actually be leaning towards her mouth on its own. She’s kissing all around it, little bites here and there, and one hand is playing roughly with my balls, but big guy is still left unattended.
“Put your mouth on me, baby,” I whine as one of my hands comes off the counter and digs into her hair, guiding her head where I need her most.
“Where? Here?” She ducks her head and takes one of my balls in her mouth, sucking it in and out, pressing that “oh fuck” spot right behind it. Yes, I taught her that and she knows what it does to me. Ball action is always good, but I’m dying to be fully in her mouth right now.
“Baby, fuck,” I pant, twisting her hair tightly around my hand, “get my dick in your mouth. Suck the shit out of it.” Oh, she’s asking for it. I’m five seconds away from showing her what gorgeous girls who don’t listen get.
Finally, her mouth closes around the head, right under the cap, sucking softly. She grips the base and pumps, taking nothing more in her hot little mouth. I would never just shove it down her throat, but damn, she’s trying my patience. Fork in blowjob, what path do I take? Get growly and demanding or beg sweetly and pathetically?
“Laney,” I warn her in a strained growl, and feel her giggle on the head of me, which actually feels pretty damn good. And as crazed as I am, a mad stroke of genius still hits me and I know exactly how to get this stubborn, teasing minx to deep-throat me. “It’s okay, baby, you’ll get better at it.”
Ahhh, there we go, hell yes. Now she’s going to town, lips curled under and tight against my length, no break in suction. Her tongue presses hard up and down the vein while her fingers follow the same pattern on my taint. “That’s it, baby, just like that. Mmm hmm, so good, Laney,” I moan, spurring her on.
I wrap one of my own hands around the bottom of my shaft, making sure I measure a stopping point, and then start fucking her face like a maniac. She’s a champ, actually really good at this, and puts both her hands on my hips, letting me direct the pace. One hand in her hair, the other around my base, I feel that tingle start in my balls, creeping up the vessels in my dick, a welcomed high. “Gonna come, baby, you want it?”
She nods, looking up at me while she grips my hips even harder in her hands and my dick with her lips. I throw my head back and let go, let it all go, anything that isn’t Laney and me insignificant. My beautiful girl stays right there with me, taking it, giving me exactly what I need.
I try to pull out of her mouth when I’m done, but she attempts to hang on just a little longer, like she wants more. Very sexy, but I just came, so the head’s a little sensitive. I win the battle and pull up my pants, then drop to my knees to join her.
“What was all that teasing?” I ask, kissing up and down her neck.
She moans through a giggle. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No? Let me show you.” I lay her back on the kitchen floor and proceed to show her that two can play that game, using my mouth and tongue to torment her…twice.
“Babe,” I call through the door, “you getting hungry?”
“Yeah, let me wrap up in here and I’ll go get something.”
“How about I just order some pizza and salads? Call and invite Tate and B over?”
“Sounds good!” he calls back.
I call in our order, which means at least three pizzas to not only feed everyone, but make sure everyone gets what they like. I’m a black olive girl, Dane pepperoni, Tate pineapple and Bennett salad only, that is, until you’re not looking and then she’ll sneak a bit of anything. I start straightening up the construction zone in the living room enough to make room for a carpet picnic, since I have no furniture. I just don’t see the point of bringing in a bunch of stuff in that I’ll just have to cover when I paint.
Paint first, furniture last.
“Hello!” Bennett knocks and calls out as she opens the door. Not that I mind, but the earlier activities in the kitchen need not be walked in on, so maybe I’ll say something to her? I’m not sure when I became a nympho… I thought I read where women don’t crave it until their late thirties, but I love feeling close to Dane. And with the free time of summer, and him off work, we’re becoming a lot like rabbits.
“Come in,” I finally respond, awkwardly fantasizing sexcapades while they stand there. “Pizza should be here soon. What’s new?” I cop a squat on the floor so they’ll know to do the same.
“Why do you still not have any furniture?” Bennett asks, looking around the room, confusion covering her pretty face.
“Because she’s trying to paint herself into the ground first,” Dane answers for me as he comes down the hall and man hugs Tate. “How are you, bro?”
“Better than you, man. I have a place to sit,” Tate says to him but shoots me a teasing grin.
“We’re almost done. I’m going furniture shopping this weekend, in fact,” I say proudly.
“At garage sales.” Dane grumbles under his breath, but I catch it.
“So,” I butt in, not again going to have that conversation, “have you guys talked to Sawyer lately? I feel like he’s fallen off the face of the planet.”
“I see him at work,” Tate shrugs, “seems fine, I guess. Isn’t he moving in here with you?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t talked to him.” I need to make a point to call him. Parker’s wedding is right around the corner and I’m sure he’ll want to go after staying on the farm with them for a while. And yes, I want to see if he still plans to be my roommate. Speaking of work, though—“Tate, how’s the gym?”
Dane had turned over full ownership of the gym to Tate not too long ago, and Bennett helps runs the office stuff. I’m so proud of Dane, giving them a way to establish their future. This will be Tate’s last ye
ar of school coming up, and now he has a plan for after graduation. I know that’s a load off all of their minds.
“Doing great,” he winces as he sits down next to Bennett on the floor. “We’re adding a daycare in the back for the parents who want to come in after work and on the weekends. Bennett’s idea.” He pats her leg and beams at her proudly.
“That’s a great idea, B.” I smile warmly. “If you guys need people, maybe I could work there a couple nights a week? I love kids, and I could use the extra money.”
“Of course,” Bennett replies immediately. “You’re hired.”
Yes, Mr. Kendrick, I see you frumping over there, but you’ll live. I’m only talking about a few shifts here and there, and I want my own money.
“Can we eat at our place? This floor is uncomfortable as fuck,” Tate whines, reaching an arm behind him to rub his back.
“Is your back bothering you?” Dane asks him, concerned. “You go see someone?”
“Nah,” Tate waves a hand at him, “it’s not that bad, just acts up sometimes. You know what I need? A hot tub! Be nice to just soak sometimes.”
Oh, you have got to be kidding me.
Apparently not, because Tate goes on.
“Laney, you don’t mind if I put a hot tub out back, do you? Of course, it’d be yours to use too.”
If Tate sounded any more like a robot reading off a script right now, I might actually laugh, but since I know what and who’s at work here, I will not be laughing.
“Funny you should mention that, Tate.” I turn to Dane, whose eyes remain glued on Tate even though I know he can feel my gaze. “Why just th—”
“Pizza’s here!” Dane shouts when the bell rings, interrupting me and bum rushing the door like the pizza guy is going to rescue him.
He stands at the door as long as possible, desperately making idle chit chat with the delivery boy, who’s obviously thinking no tip is worth the inquisition. I stroll up behind him and lay one hand on his back.
“Thank you.” I smile at the pizza guy and end the charade by shutting the door. “Let’s go eat, babe.” I play nice, taking his hand and pulling him back in the living room.
I let it slide, for now, and we eat together on my floor. Bennett agrees to help me shop for something to wear for the wedding and invites me to some “ladies only” party a girl in her drama class is having. Sounds boring as hell, but I agree to do it for B. Tate and Dane shoot the breeze about The K, the gym and whatever else until we’re all stuffed and unanimously sick of sitting on the damn floor.
“So, I gotta go to work soon.” Tate stands and offers a hand down to Bennett. “You two should come down for a drink,” he says to Dane and I.
Dane looks at me—first time in a while, scaredy cat—leaving it up to me. “I’m pooped. We worked really hard in here all day. I think I’d rather just head to your house and collapse in bed.” Ready? Aim. Fire…
I smile sweetly. “Maybe get in the hot tub for a while.”
He tries to hide it, but his nostrils flare slightly and his eyes grow wider for a split second. He clears his throat and shifts on his feet. “Whatever you want, baby. Rain check?” he asks Tate.
“Sure, whatever. You two have fun.” He waves and leads Bennett, who also waves goodbye, out the door.
Now that we’re alone, I take one small, slow step at a time across the room to him. I see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as I draw near and he eyes me skeptically.
I run one finger from under his chin down his throat. “Shame about Tate’s back,” I say throatily. “You really need to insist he go see a chiropractor.”
“My brother is a shit actor,” he concedes quickly, blurting it out on a sigh.
Now I do laugh, because yes, Tate is the complete opposite of his beautiful girlfriend—that was some of the worst acting in the history of the craft.
“You know what this means, don’t you?”
“I don’t, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” His hands slide around my waist, just under my shirt so he feels my bare skin, pulling me against him. “Do your worst, baby,” he says with a kiss to my forehead.
“If you really want a hot tub back there, go for it. But,” I tap the end of his nose with my finger, “you are going to garage sales with me all day Saturday. And you will smile the whole time, not one frown or grumble.”
He smiles, his handsome face lighting up and sending shivers through me, much like every time. “I can do that.”
“Good. Now let’s go to your house. I’m about to fall asleep on my feet.”
After a night of “making up” in the hot tub and falling into bed completely drained, I wake in his big bed, alone. I’m not surprised, it doesn’t take much to wake up before me, so I throw on a robe in case Helen is here and make my way downstairs to the kitchen.
No Helen in sight, but a beautiful surprise. Dane has struck again.
On the counter sits a large vase filled with roses in every shade of pink. I can’t wait to see what the card says.
Baby,
The opinions vary, and there seems to be no consensus on what color rose really means forgiveness. All that’s certain is that 15 of them, any color, mean forgive me. So I went with 15 in pinks. One for the color of your sweet lips, another shade to match your cheeks when I make you blush for me, and last, the perfect pink that always reminds me of you and I together. I’ll let you figure out what I mean.
I’m sorry for being so headstrong about the hot tub, and I’m sorry I had to run to the office this morning. I should be back by lunch.
I love you and I love doing things for you, so be a good girl, forgive me and open the box.
Always for you, XOXO D
Punch drunk, I rip off the bow and paper, then throw off the lid.
Nestled in the tissue paper is a light pink string bikini. And a note.
Seeing you in this…worth the battle. Love, Your Caveman
His thoughtfulness, the creative and fun ways he gets his way…only a fool wouldn’t cave. Besides, he could be always begging me to forgive bad acts. Is it really such a big deal to let good acts slide?
Didn’t think so.
BYOB. When a guy says this, one knows they mean bring your own beer. When a ladies only party invitation says it, and you’re gonna want to remember this, it means bring your own batteries. Why would you need batteries, you ask? Oh, that’s simple…because Kiki, your showstress for the evening, wants to make sure everyone can test the intensity of the vibrators, dildos and other devices she’s passing around the circle on their hands.
I mean, who doesn’t know that?
To say this party is interesting would be the understatement of the year. Bennett is trying to go with the flow, laughing nervously but complying when handed the warming gel and instructed to go try a sample in the bathroom. But me? Well I’m sitting here spinning—what the—oh Jesus, I’m spinning the Ben Wah balls nervously in my hand, contemplating suicide. I drop them on the ground and look around, hoping no one noticed.
Did I mention I won the door prize? Sure enough, I am now the proud owner of the Backdoor Buddy, a huge, purple anal dildo. I may cry. Seriously.
“Laney?” Showstress Kiki reads my nametag. “Would you mind helping with this demonstration?”
“W-what?” I choke on my tongue. “No, I mean, yes, I would mind.
I’m good right here, just, ya know, sitting.”
“Are you sure? You haven’t participated yet, and I’d like to show everyone how to wear this particular strap-on. Don’t worry, we’ll slide it right on over your clothes.”
Bennett comes out of the bathroom, her cheeks flushed slightly, and lays the tube on the table. I’m saved.
“Bennett will do it,” I point at her with a trembling finger.
I get more and more comfortable with my sexual side every day, but with Dane. Alone. This isn’t alone, this is a room full of brazen as hell women that I don’t even know. Maybe I’m a prude, because all the other girls are giggling, s
haring way too much information about their personal lives, and happily testing every sample handed to them. I’m still sort of hoping the floor will swallow me.
“Do what?” Bennett asks, slightly squirming, like she has to pee. “Are you okay, dear?” Kiki asks her.
“Um…” Bennett leans in her head and whispers something, and Kiki takes her by the hand, leading her back to the bathroom.
WTF????
I get up and walk to the bathroom, checking what’s going on with my friend, thanking God we’ve adverted the strap-on demo. “What’s wrong with her?” I ask Kiki, who’s standing outside the closed door.
“She just used a little too much of the hot tingle gel. I told her to wash it off. She’ll be fine. Now,” she places a hand on my shoulder, “let’s see if I can’t figure out the perfect item for you.”
“No, no, that’s okay.” I shake my head, backing away from her with my hands out in front of me. “I don’t need anything. I have a Front Door Buddy and he does just fine, thank you.”
Did I really just say that?
“As soon as Bennett’s done in there, we have to go. I’m late for—for church.”
She laughs loudly, tossing her head back, then looking at me once again. “No need to be embarrassed, sweetie. You’re young and that’s wonderful. One day, you’ll need this stuff. Look me up when you do.” She pats my cheek and walks away.
“B!” I hiss through the door, knocking lightly. “B, open the door!”
The door opens and Bennett tugs me in, slamming it quickly. “Oh my God, Laney! Cha Cha’s on fire! I think I may have done permanent damage.”
I pull a hand slowly down my face, hardly believing this is really happening to me. “I can only assume Cha Cha is your vagina?” I ask.
“Yes, Taterbe—”
“Don’t say it!” I cup my hand over her mouth, teetering one toe over the edge of my limit. “I know what you call him, and now, like a Christmas miracle, I know what he calls your vag. Awesome. How much of that tingle stuff did you put on?” Judging by the fact that this whole damn bathroom smells like a Vick’s factory, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say too much.