21. Let Me Clean You Off
Bailey
Sacha builds a fire in the pit in front of the cabin. It’s surrounded by hand-carved benches, some of the seats worn smooth from years of use. The evening is waning, but this time of summer, the sun doesn’t properly set until late after dinner. Crickets chirp angrily at us from the growing darkness while Sacha tosses another piece of wood onto the fire.
I settle into one of the benches, nearly dwarfed by the Bigfoot-sized furniture, and enjoy the crackle of the wood. Sacha produces two metal-pronged sticks, perfect for roasting marshmallows, before he sits on the other end of the bench. As the night moves on, we find excuses to move closer and closer together until his leg is flush with mine. We stuff our faces with chocolate and marshmallows smushed between crunchy graham crackers. His arm finds its way around my shoulder as we watch the beautiful sky, stars twinkling into view that are never this visible in the crowded city.
“There,” Sacha takes the opportunity to lean further into my space and points to a constellation, “is the Big Dipper.”
I reach up, wrapping my hand around his, and guide it across the visible sky. “Scorpio.” I trace the outline of the constellation.“Sagittarius,” I add with a smile.
He catches my hand in his with a small laugh. “Alright, show off, I never learned that many of them.”
“I did astrology readings for a while in college.” I stroke my thumb along his knuckles, my hands dwarfed by his large fingers. “Nothing serious, just a little cash on the side. I couldn’t quite convince myself to really believe in it, and then giving readings felt like lying.”
“I am continually impressed by you, Beast.”
When I turn to him, he’s staring at me intensely—too intensely for me to keep making eye contact. I move my eyes back to the sky with a shrug. “You are the impressive one. I’ve never built a company from scratch. I’ve barely held a single job for six months.”
Sacha shakes his head. “You’ve chased your heart through so many phases and adventures. I’ve been doing the same tired thing for years on end.”
“Yeah, and you have the money and status to show for your efforts.”
“Hmph,” he snorts, “you are brave. Always willing to try something new, rather than stay in the same safe place.”
I swallow hard. “Hardly brave. I don’t have to face that I’m bad at things if I’m always moving on to a new challenge. You can’t get rejected if you quit first.”
He nudges my shoulder, and when I look at him, he swipes a finger of melted chocolate over my cheek.
“Hey!” I yelp.
“You could do anything if you really set your mind to it. You are brave, and talented, and smart.”
“And dirty,” I mutter, reach a hand up to swipe at my cheek.
“Sorry about that.” He catches my hand before it reaches my cheek and gives a devilish grin. “Let me clean you off.”
He drops my hand to cup my face in one large hand, my breath catches as he leans in close and swipes his lips across my skin, licking my face clean. A warm chuckle sends his hot breath glancing against my cheek.
“There, my beautiful beast is all clean.”
I start to laugh, but he leans forward, catches my giggle with his mouth, and the world seems far from funny. He presses kisses to me, soft and generous, until my lips are parting and his tongue is dipping into my mouth, exploring me. He holds back even as I push forward against his strong, broad body, kneading his chest with my hands until I am almost groaning into his mouth. A frustrating heat builds in my core. His touch remains reserved, even though I can feel the urgency growing in his pants.
“Sacha, I’m on the pill. We can—If you want to—” My whispered words fumble to a stop. “I’ve been tested.”
There is the briefest of hesitations from him.
“Bailey,” his hand traces up my thigh, “we don’t need to have sex tonight.”
My brain nearly implodes at his words. Is he really turning me down? Again? Here? “Seriously?”
“I want to enjoy every part of you, but I want you to know you are fully in control here.” His voice is dark and serious.
“I’m not sure I want to be in control.” I croak out the words before thinking about them.
“I need you to feel safe with me.” One of his hands slips up my ribcage, his thumb grazing softly along the side of my breast. “I need you to know that I can control myself.”
“I do. I feel very safe with you, Sacha, even here in the middle of the woods, with no cell service. I’ve never known someone with as much self-control as you.” I feel so safe that I am growing more and more certain that am going to get my heart broken. I press my thigh into the palm he rests there. He groans, his large hand tightening around my leg. I would probably do anything to get him to keep touching me right now. “Fuck it. Just tell me, what are you stopping yourself from doing?”
“Beast, I need to taste you.” He growls, and my entire crotch melts into a pool.
“Oh, fuck. Yes, please,” I say gratefully, and his mouth falls onto me again as his hand creeps up under my shirt to caress across my breasts.
His fingers edge along my sports bra, the one that I wear when I don’t care if I have uni-boob, the one I wore to try and deter myself from allowing this exact situation. It isn’t cute, but Sacha is completely undeterred, tugging fabric in various directions until my chest is free. Tossing first my shirt and then the bra to the ground. His eyes fall on me in the firelight. It can be difficult to navigate the world as a plus-sized woman, but I’ve worked on my self image enough that I am confident in my body.
Still, I’ve never felt sexier than now, with his gaze drinking me in. His hands move reverentially across my round stomach. He releasing a growl before his mouth can find my breast, wrapping his tongue around my nipple and toying with me until I am whimpering beneath him.
His hand rests at my waist, fingers dipping slightly into the elastic waistband of my sweats. This outfit is absolutely terrible. I cannot believe it is going to get me laid.
“No, wait, wait—” I say. He freezes instantly, his hands easing their grip on my thighs, and his eyes flying to mine.
“Too fast? Too much?” He’s breathing hard, the firelight catching him in wild dancing shadows, and I’ve never seen anything more attractive.
“I haven’t—cleaned up down there.”
One of his eyebrows raises.
“I didn’t think we’d be doing this. I didn’t shave.” I clarify before burying my face in my hands so I can’t see him.
Sacha chuckles low, and pulls my hands from my eyes. “Beast, do you think that I am bothered by a little hair?”
“Probably not.” I squirm under him.
His hand meets my breast again. He kisses me long and hard until I am moaning against his lips, and then his fingers slowly find the waistband of my pants again, dipping just under the fabric but not moving any further.
I give him an enthusiastic nod this time, too turned on to be deterred by any of the road blocks I put in place to prevent this. No amount of body hair or bad underwear is going to keep me from knowing what this male’s tongue feels like. He jerks down my pants, his hands stroking up and down my bare thighs as he looks me over, tracing every curve of my body with his eyes and his fingers.
“You look delectable, I bet you are delicious,” he murmurs words of praise. “Open your legs for me, Beautiful.”
It’s half a question and half a command, I let my thighs fall apart, letting the night air caress my wet pussy.
“Good girl.” He presses a kiss to the inside of each knee, then slowly moves his lips down the inside of my thigh until his mouth finally meets the neediest part of me with voracious enthusiasm. Tongue and suction meet me until I am a panting, yelping mess underneath him, and then he presses a finger deep inside me. It curls and strokes, until he hits the perfect spot that shoots sparks through my limbs and I cry out.
“Right there. Right there! Sacha! Just like that!” My fingers dig into his shoulders, and bless him, he actually stays right there.
His finger repeating the curl, and his tongue lashing in the same way, until the walls of my pussy clench around him so tightly that lights twinkle behind my eyelids, mimicking the ones in the sky. My body surges forward, nearly folding in on itself. Still, his mouth stays right where it is, right where I need it, as he catches the aftershocks, the waves that ripple across me again, and again, and again until I have to pull him away from my sensitive clit.
Panting and overstimulated, I tug his face up to mine and kiss him. Hungry and cloudy-headed. I need more of him, more of him pressed against me. His face and beard are wet with my fluids. We taste so sweet together.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I mutter as I become aware of the wood underneath my naked body, and the way the fire heats half of me while the night air cools my skin on the other side. “You are, really, really, very good at that.”
His hands rest beside my head, his arms trembling, and when I glance down, his dick pitches an impressive tent under his trousers, with a small wet spot just at the tip that shows just how excited he really is.
“Sacha. Do you—want me to?” I can barely catch my breath. The outline of his dick has another wave of desire passing over me. I move my hand down his chest, toward his belt buckle. He catches my hand in his.
“No—no—tonight is for—” He pulls back from me, his body quivering. “Let me show you I have control. Let me do this for you tonight.”
“That doesn’t seem fair at all.” My words are lost in the night air as he kisses me again, his hand finding my nipple, then his lips, then his mouth and tongue. He repeats the same order between my thighs until I am screaming his name over and over. I keep waiting for him to push for more, to suggest another step, to take us to the next level, instead it’s just me, again and again, until I’m no longer begging him to continue, and just asking him to stop.
“Please, Sacha. It has to be your turn now,” I murmur as he tucks me against his chest. “You’ve done so much for me.”
“Shush, my beast. There’s time for that later.” He presses a kiss to my forehead.
I know he’s wrong. There won’t be time later. We have right now, this weekend, and that’s all, but my eyelids are so heavy that when I blink, I’m not sure how much time has passed. I’m partially aware of his large arms lifting me, carrying me inside, arranging me gently on the large soft bed and covering me with a blanket. I’m half aware of the chilly emptiness that remains as he leaves. A small part of me protests that he’s leaving, but that part doesn’t manage to overpower my eyelids as they close.