I looked down at my blue jean shorts, yellow flip flops, and lime green halter top. “What’s wrong with what I have on?”
He swallowed. “Your breasts. I can see them.”
I looked down, and sure enough, I could see them too. “What’s the big deal?”
“I’ve been trying to ignore the fact that you can see your nipples through the shirt,” he said, walking forward slowly as if not to spook me. “But I can’t.”
Little did he know that it took a lot to spook me. Such as a freakin’ thunderstorm, and I was fairly sure Foster was nothing more than a little thunder cloud.
I might get a little rumble of thunder from him with his constant need to protect and serve, regardless of who it was, but it’d never be anything more than that.
Then thunderstorms were the last thing on my mind as his long, blunt finger, circled the tip of my nipple.
I gasped as the feeling shot straight through to my toes.
My breasts had always been sensitive. Something that David never tried to explore.
I’d asked him, again and again, to touch my breasts, to suck on them, but he’d always steered clear of them.
I’d thought something was wrong with them, but suddenly I knew I was wrong.
Especially when Foster yanked my shirt to the side, allowing my breast to pop free of the built in bra and bounce with his exuberance.
He leaned down, and roughly captured my nipple into his mouth, sucking hard.
Hard enough that I clenched my core tightly. My pussy closing in on itself, desperate for something to be inside of it.
Anything!
He read me like an open book, though.
Letting his hand sneak around the back of my short shorts, he slipped two long fingers up and inside. Gliding underneath the elastic of my thong and delving in between my folds in a matter of seconds.
My eyes closed on their own volition, which was why I was surprised when he bit down on my nipple, causing me to gasp in excitement.
Then, finally, his fingers found my pussy and plunged inside.
Filling me completely…with only two fingers.
More than I’d ever been filled before, and I didn’t even have the real thing yet.
“God,” I breathed, eyes slamming open in surprise when he sucked hard on my nipple once again.
I looked down, watching his strong, bristly jaw work as he sucked powerfully, drawing my nipple deeply into his mouth.
My hand moved down to cup the back of his head with both hands as I went up onto my tiptoes and circled my hips, searching for something.
More friction, possibly.
Yet again, though, he knew what I wanted.
Thrusting his fingers in and out of me at a furious pace, curling in to work that special spot inside of me.
Then his voice, his goddamned voice, was what made me explode.
That sexy, deep baritone whispering all the dirty things he’d been wanting to do to me since he’d met me, made me come. And come so hard I screamed.
It took me a few long seconds to come back to my senses, but when I did, and opened my eyes, it was to find his intense ones staring back at me.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he said, pulling his fingers from my pussy, then promptly sucking them clean with his mouth.
I gaped at him, stunned with how he could go from zero to ninety in point three seconds.
Letting me go carefully, he stepped back and readjusted himself.
I smiled, reaching for his belt, but he stopped me.
My heart, which had been frantically beating against my ribcage, froze for a few short moments.
“There’s not enough time in the world to do what I want to do to you,” he said, softening the blow.
When I moved to head to the bathroom to clean the flood between my legs up, he grabbed my hands and stopped me.
“Don’t,” he said simply.
I raised my brows at him. “Why?”
He grinned as he said, “You’re gonna need that later. And it won’t be the last time I do that tonight before we actually get to the main event. The buildup is going to drive you fucking crazy, but I promise it’ll be worth it.”
With that lovely parting comment, he slapped me on my ass, sending me on my way.
***
I was nervous.
I knew tonight would be the night.
The night I had sex with the second person in my life.
The second person that could make or break what I thought sex could be.
With David, it’d always been bland.
Towards the end of our relationship, it’d turned into an every Thursday kind of thing.
With Foster, though, I had a feeling that it’d be spontaneous. And hot.
Really hot.
“Why are you biting your fingernails?” Foster asked
“You’re about to meet my mother,” I lied.
He snorted. “You need to be careful when you lie. You have a tell,” he laughed.
I blinked, and turned in my seat to face him.
“What tell?” I asked him.
He pointed to my lip that I was currently worrying with my teeth, and I winced.
Yeah, I did do that. Often.
It was a nervous habit. Something I did a lot, I’d found.
“I’ll have to see what I can do about remedying that,” I teased.
He winked and bailed out of the truck with a bounce in his step that had nothing to do with the kinetic energy stored in his prosthesis.
He moved around his truck, walked up to my door, and opened it.
Offering me his hand, he helped me down and held it as he slammed the door behind me.
I walked with him, in silence, up to the door.
We stopped once we reached the front door, though.
That was because we heard fighting.
Well, my mother was yelling, and my father did what he did best, ignored her.
I wasn’t really sure that my parents loved each other.
In fact, there were days that I was fairly sure they hated each other.
The only thing that I thought kept them together was that they’d been together so long they didn’t know any different.
I’d asked my dad why he didn’t divorce, and he’d said that it wasn’t ‘his way.’
He’d never leave my mother.
End of story.
But as I stood there on the front steps of my parents’ home, I knew that they were through.
“Choose!” My mother screeched.
My father’s deep, calm voice said. “Don’t make me do that. You know what I’ll choose.”
My mother’s voice became shrill. “You have to choose! I won’t allow you to let her treat me like that! You’ve been avoiding this for days. If you don’t say what you choose, right now, then I’ll only assume I know what you’re picking and act accordingly.”
“You walk out this door, I won’t let you back in.”
Then, she did just that.
She opened the side door, stormed out to her minivan, and peeled out of the driveway, narrowly missing Foster’s truck by a hair’s width.
I walked into the front door, seeing my father and grandfather on the couch, both with a beer in their hand.
My father looked pissed, and my grandfather looked tired.
“So…” I said, catching their attention. “Are we ordering pizza?”
I couldn’t say that I was upset about my mother leaving.
We’d never really gotten along.
She continued, to this day, to try to mold me into the perfect housewife. Something that I really, really didn’t want to be.
She hated that I did pottery.
She hated that I left David.
She hated that I didn’t wear my hair down, or put on dresses that ‘flattered my figure.’
Personally, I couldn’t give a fuck about all of that. What I wanted to do was what I loved, and being the ‘perfect housewife’, like she was, wasn’t one of t
hem.
And color me surprised when she’d made that ultimatum to my father.
That was something I’d never thought to hear uttered from her lips.
“You can go finish making the dinner that your mother left cooking on the stove,” Grandpa said, eyes never leaving the TV.
It was on a fishing show.
He loved fishing shows.
I loved them, too, which was why I made a note of the channel before I went into the kitchen.
Then I turned it on and finished making dinner.
My mom had chosen fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and fresh baked rolls.
I was okay with the first two, but the last never turned out how I wanted it to.
It never failed. My bread was always too thick. On the verge of being brick-like thick.
Bread machine. By hand and baking in the oven. Old recipe, tried and true recipe, new recipe. Nada. They always turned out the same no matter how hard I tried.
Luckily, she’d already made them, and now all I had to do was take them out of the oven when they were done cooking.
Score one for me.
So as I busied myself with cooking the fried chicken and mashing potatoes, I thought about all that had happened today.
My beautiful house was no more. In its place was a shell of its former self.
But then I managed to smile as I remembered that Foster already had that part handled.
It’d be back to its old self in no time.
Chapter 14
I’m sorry for the things I said when you woke me up. Next time just bring me coffee and run. Fast.
-Sincerely, not a morning person
Blake
“Well that was the most awkward dinner of all time. Do you think your friends noticed anything wrong?” I asked Foster, falling forward onto his bed and slamming my face into a pillow.
Foster followed me into the bedroom, stopping at the bottom of the bed and said, “Nope.”
His fingers started to work at my tennis shoes, unlacing them when I would’ve just kicked them off, and then placing them nicely on the floor.
My shorts were the next thing to go, and suddenly all of the sleep that’d been on my mind was gone in a flash. In its place was hot, sexy thoughts of the man currently pulling my panties over my ass.
He stopped once they were midway down my thighs, and kissed each ass cheek before biting lightly.
I jumped, pushing my hips into the bed as I looked at him over my shoulder.
“What,” I said, turning over.
Then his eyes, which had been on my face, found my mound.
I blushed.
My face was on fire.
Luckily, I’d gotten into the habit of being totally shaved down there since I’d left David.
I don’t know why. It’d just been something that he’d hated me doing, and now I kept it shaved out of spite.
Foster swallowed thickly, finally pulling his eyes away from my pussy to catch my eyes.
“I haven’t had sex since my accident,” he admitted, licking his lips nervously. “In fact, it was nearly four months before my accident. So it’s been…a while.”
I smiled, sitting up.
My hands found their way to his belt, hooking my fingers into the waistband of his jeans and pulling him closer to me.
“Take your shirt off,” I ordered. “Now.”
“Yes ma’am,” he complied, ripping the shirt from his jeans where he’d tucked it in, and pulled it roughly over his head with a hand at the back of his collar.
He tossed it across the room, aiming for the dresser but not quite making it.
He did manage to knock over our drinks we’d gotten on the way home, though.
Neither one of us moved to clean it up. It didn’t matter.
We’d deal with the mess. Later.
I worked the belt loose from his pants, dropping it on the bed beside my hips, before I started working on the button of his pants.
His eyes watched my movements, taking it all in with sharp, quick senses.
He allowed me to do what I wanted to do, and I was grateful.
I wanted this so bad I hurt.
I’d wanted Foster since the moment I saw him in the police headquarters’ lobby.
I licked my lips once I worked the zipper down over his bulging erection, stopping before I went too far.
“Condoms,” I said. “I think we need some.”
He snorted, but turned and went into the bathroom, tossing me a look over his shoulder.
I licked my lips at seeing his pants hanging so low on his hips that I could see the top swells of his well-defined ass.
He came back moments later with a handful of condoms in his hand, tossing them down onto the bed beside his belt.
One knee planted in the bed at my feet, and he stopped, waiting for the next move.
I liked that he was deferring to me.
At least this time.
I suspected he wouldn’t be so accommodating in the future.
My shaking and sweating hands went to the waistband of his black boxer briefs, and lowered it.
The first thing I saw was that he had a tattoo.
It made me freeze as I read the words.
“Does that…does that say what I think it says?” I asked, laughter gathering in my throat.
Looking up at him for confirmation, I couldn’t help the laugh that burst free of my lips at the sheepish grin on his face.
“My brothers are dicks,” he said. “I got drunk and then they proceeded to take me to the nearest tattoo shop where I got this.”
I have a small wiener was tattooed in black bold letters just above the base of his cock.
And the saying couldn’t be further from the truth.
Which I let him know the moment I saw his cock up close and personal.
It was massive.
Bigger than any I’d ever seen, which, granted, wasn’t a lot, but he was also bigger than my purple eight inch dildo I’d bought after my divorce.
Easily.
“Oh, my,” I said, placing my small hand onto his hard cock.
It was thick. So thick my hands could barely fit around it.
It was also soft. The skin felt like silk wrapped around a steel pole of muscle.
His cock was beautiful.
I’d never thought of cocks being much of anything before, but Foster’s was just that.
Long, thick, with a darker mushroomed shaped head.
Veins popped out along his shaft, and one long, thick vein ran along the underside.
It even pulsed with the beat of his heart.
“Jesus,” he hissed as my hands squeezed him tightly.
I smiled at him as I leaned forward, squeezing the head to milk out a pearl white droplet of pre-come.
He growled, and his fingers burrowed into my hair, not directing my movements. Rather, more so he could have something to hold onto.
I worked the tip of my tongue around the tip, circling the bulbous head with the front and back of my tongue before working my way down his shaft.
“I’m gonna come in your mouth,” he said suddenly, yanking himself away from me.
I pouted at him.
“I hadn’t even gotten a good taste,” I teased.
He wrinkled his nose at me.
“That’s okay,” he murmured, stalking forward once again. “It’s your turn now.”
He stalked me.
As he moved forward, I moved backwards, putting more room in between us.
I did it with a smile on my face, though, which let him know that I was playing, and not scared.
“You’re sure you want to play that way?” He asked carefully.
I blinked, and then lifted up onto my knees before turning my back to him.
Then, slowly, I lifted my shirt off my body, revealing my bare back to his gaze.
Then I slowly bent at the hips, waggling my butt at him.
“Well, big boy. You told me you had all the grand plans, yet I
don’t see you putting them into action,” I teased.
Then he leaned forward, grasped my hips, and yanked me back until I was on the edge of the bed.
“This time,” he rasped against the skin of my back. “I let you play your games. You’ve pretty much ruined my control, though.”
Then I heard the foil of the condom ripping and looked over my shoulder in time to see him work the latex over his impressive cock.
I licked my lips before dropping down to let all my weight rest on my shoulders.
My hands were stretched out in front of me, grasping the pillow at the top of the bed.
His rough palm smoothed down my back, starting at the top of my spine, and running it down until it came to a rest just above the top of my ass.
And as if in a dream, he lifted his hand and slapped my ass.
I gasped, moving away from him slightly, but his hands were quick.
They grasped my waist and pulled me back into positon.
“Whoops,” he teased.
I bit my lip to keep my moan of anticipation from bursting free.
Then he lined the head of his sheathed cock up with my entrance, and slowly started to sink his fat dick inside of me.
I felt full.
In fact, I’d felt full before he’d even gotten halfway in.
Then, by the time he got to three quarters of the way, I was already coming.
He froze, letting the pulsing spasm of my pussy clench and unclench around him for long moments before he started to sink slowly inside the rest of the way.
I was panting once he got his entire length inside of me. So full that I could barely draw a complete breath.
I swear I could feel him up by my navel.
But that had to be impossible…right?
He didn’t give me much more time to think about it, though.
He made sure of it as he started to pull out all the way before he sank slowly back inside.
“You feel like heaven right now, and I’m not even bare inside of you. Jesus, this condom is the only thing keeping me from blowing my load way too early,” he gritted out through clenched teeth.
I couldn’t answer him. I was too busy focusing on me and how good I felt.
“Yes! God, yes Foster,” I yelled, head thrown back in delight.
“Yes, Foster. Yes!” Boris echoed from the living room, causing us both to freeze.
Charlie Foxtrot Page 9