42. A Road Trip #2
"I'm right here, baby girl," he said soothingly, holding my face with his large hands. He rubbed off the tears on my cheeks with his thumbs, smiling softly. "I'm not going anywhere."
"But you said," I mumbled, sobbing like a little girl, but he placed his finger on my lips, silencing my objections.
"Forget it, princess. I won't ever leave you, okay?" He kissed the tip of my nose, then my forehead, and embraced me tightly. After a few moments of listening to his comforting words and reassurances, I calmed down, laughing when he didn't want to allow me to pull away from him.
He managed to dispel my fears and worries, but the frail voice in my mind didn't forget to remind me that the situation could happen anytime.
A car accident, a plane crash, a lift malfunction, slipping on the stairs, it was only the tip of the iceberg, and I realized that if I didn't stop thinking like this, I would live in permanent fear for him.
It wasn't a life; it was torture. So, I decided I had to work on my psyche and try to detach myself from that unfortunate event for the sake of both of us and our relationship.
"Do you want to switch places or take a break?" Bastian asked, watching me closely when I fired the engine. "We are only half an hour from our destination. We can relax a little bit and look around Coos Bay."
"You know it here?" I looked at him, smiling slightly to show him I was much better and we could continue. He leaned into his seat with a dreamy expression on his face.
"I lived here," he replied, chuckling when I cast him a doubtful glance.
"Really?" I’d never heard that he was from Oregon. All information online claimed he was from Seattle.
"Yeah, we moved to Seattle when Mom got pregnant with Elliot."
"Bastian, where are we heading?" I inquired, admiring our surroundings. The view of Coos Bay was magnificent—the ocean, the boats, and the high buildings framing the coast.
"It's a surprise," he stated, shrugging when I objected. He told me nothing until we reached Bandon, and the GPS navigated us through the streets.
"Stop here, princess." Bastian pointed to the right side in front of a lovely, white two-story house with a porch and perfectly landscaped front yard. We exited the car, and I looked around, admiring the roses beside the stone path. All houses on the street were the same, but this one seemed empty.
Everything was in order: the grass was cut, leaves were raked, and the porch was squeaky clean, but there was no car on the driveway, toys in the garden, or shoes next to the entrance. The place was like it was from a catalog prepared for a sale.
"Whose house is it?" I turned to Bastian, who waved at the neighbor on the other side, and the old lady enthusiastically waved back. To my great surprise, he fished the keys from his pocket and nodded at me to follow him to the front door. He unlocked it and walked inside, grinning at me.
"This is where I spent the first twelve years of my life," he announced, leading me to the living room.
Almost all the furniture was covered with white blankets, and when I touched it, the dust swirled, making me cough.
The walls were half-covered with light wood and painted with a flower pattern.
One wall was entirely glass, providing a great view of the backyard with a treehouse, a slide, and something that looked like a fortress.
I admired the massive fireplace with photos of three happy boys as they played football and hockey, and one of Bastian or Andreas at a violin concert.
They looked like twins when they were kids, which made Frederick look like he wasn't their sibling. Yet when I examined the family photo with Mr. and Mrs. Thorn at their young age, I found out that Fredy was the exact copy of his father while Bastian and Andreas were a mix of their parents.
"Do you want to see my room?" Bastian asked when I returned from the kitchen and smiled at him happily. It was an incredible feeling to see where he grew up.
"I want to see all the rooms," I answered, climbing the stairs when he gave me silent permission to explore the upper floor. He stood opposite another family photo by the railing while I peeked behind every white door .
His room came last, and I took a deep breath before walking inside. It was a typical boy's room with blue walls, a shelf full of comic books, an old radio, a dresser, and a bed resembling a pirate ship.
Excitement coursed through my veins when I looked at his ice hockey trophies, different awards from formal debate competitions, one first place from a history contest, and two from math. He was a golden child.
"I stored them here even when we lived in Seattle," he spoke from the threshold, watching me. I shook my head in disbelief, grabbing a hanging gold medal from the nail.
"It's fake." He chuckled when I admired myself with it around my neck in the mirror and acted like I had won a national competition in spelling.
"Doesn't matter. You have a medal." I grinned, touching a stuffed crocodile and tracing my fingers along the desk where his old school books still rested.
"How many girls have you brought here, sir?" I half-sat on the desk, looking at the posters of sports cars and muscled guys with sexy women.
"Only one—Sandy. She was a year older than me, and I was totally in love with her.
" He inhaled deeply with a dreamy expression, and I giggled when he sat on the bed, looking outside the window.
"I kissed her for the first time under that tree.
" He pointed at the tall maple in their garden, turning to me when I joined him.
I sneaked my hand under his arm and entwined our fingers, resting my chin on his shoulder.
"Why am I here, sir?" I whispered, staring into his crystal-blue eyes.
"To get to know me better, princess," he answered, tenderly kissing the back of my hand. "We were the happiest here. Everything changed after we moved away and Dad started his business."
"Didn't he already have Peter?" I frowned, recalling the dates of birth of Bastian's siblings. Frederick and Peter were born in the same year; I was sure of it.
"He did," Bastian confirmed, his face reflecting shame and sadness. "But Pete's mom was his only mistress back then. He visited the boy and occasionally fucked the mother—no big deal. The real rodeo started in Washington. "
"You don't need to talk about it if you don't want to," I said, caressing his forearm. He gave me a small smile. “We can spend the time with much more pleasurable activities.” I winked at him, and he lifted a brow at me.
“What are you suggesting?” He placed his hand on my knee and moved it up, squeezing my thigh, and I bit my lower lip. Grabbing his stick and putting it away, I straddled him, enjoying his appreciative look.
“I’ve never had sex on a pirate ship," I breathed against his lips, wrapping my arms around his neck, and his tongue darted out, licking my lower lip.
Our lips connected in a slow, loving kiss. His hands grabbed my ass, kneading it, and he roughly pressed me against his groin, making me moan in delight.
"Make a show for me, princess. I want to see you," he muttered, breathing hard, and my heart skipped a beat in happiness. Finally, he gave me a direct command.
With my best seductive smile, I took off my sweater, staying only in a black bra, and I opened the button on my jeans, leisurely pulling it down my thighs.
I turned my back on him, wiggling my butt playfully, watching him over my shoulder as he roamed my ass with a hungry look.
My bottom was my biggest asset in this game.
"Come here," he growled, holding his hand out, and I left the jeans on the floor, standing before him only in my underwear. My breathing quickened, and my heart did backflips while he admired every inch of me as if he saw me for the first time.
"Bend over my knee, princess," he commanded in a husky voice, and my eyes widened, but I obeyed, pressing my elbows into the mattress of his bed. He caressed my bare ass with his big palm, squeezing my cheeks and making me squirm.
"Am I being punished for something, sir?" I asked in a thin voice, fisting the bedsheets.
"We'll see," he muttered and slapped my butt, making me gasp. A few more light hits followed, and I felt a familiar tingling in my lower abdomen.
"Fuck, I love this ass," he breathed, kissing both my cheeks. His fingers brushed the drenched fabric covering my pussy .
"So beautiful," he praised, and I moaned when he inserted his digit behind the hem of my panties, locating my clit quickly.
"Stay still, princess," he commanded, teasing both of my holes. I listened to his order, but when he spread my ass cheeks and pushed his thumb inside while his two fingers entered my pussy, I screamed in surprise, pleasure, and subtle pain.
"Oh, God!" I whined, wriggling my hips and instantly squealing when a hard slap echoed from the walls. Bastian added three more, and I buried my face into the mattress, muffling my cries and holding my ass still.
"That is much better," he said in a stern voice, giving me another one before he returned to my pussy. Deep plunges of his thick fingers led me to the edge, but it took almost all of my strength not to move. Every time I squeezed my thighs or squirmed, the heavy impact of his palm made me whimper.
"So wet for me," he purred, pushing in and out of me in a crazy rhythm.
My entire body trembled, the knot in my lower abdomen tightened, and then he stopped.
I groaned in irritation, staring over my shoulder at him.
He returned my panties to their place and slapped my ass gently, taking me by my elbow and lifting me.
"Why?" I breathed, kneeling before him and placing my palms on his thighs. I moved my hand towards the button on his jeans, but he took my wrists, stopping me.
"Why not?" he countered, a devilish smirk I knew too well appearing on his lips, and my heart skipped a beat. The way to his pants and my release existed; I just had to find it.
"How can I please you, sir?" I whispered, batting my eyelashes and giving him my best innocent look. He tilted his head to the side, cupping my chin and pressing his index and middle finger of his other hand against my lips.
"Clean them," he rumbled, and I opened my mouth, taking them in. With my tongue, I licked every inch, sucking on them harder when I saw his delighted expression.
"What should I do with you?" he mumbled, pushing them further and closely observing every move of my tongue.
My palms were still on his thighs, and I tried my chances and moved them closer to his groin.
He didn't stop me, so I took it as permission and massaged his cock through his jeans, nibbling his fingers and enjoying his pleased humming.
"You want a dick, don't you?" He chuckled, watching me through hooded eyes as I gently bit his middle finger.
"Yes. I do, sir," I replied, focusing on the bulge in his pants.
"Take it." He leaned back, supporting his upper body on his elbows, when I freed his massive erection and took it into my mouth before he could command me otherwise.
"Oh, fuck, princess," he groaned, tilting his head back. His veiny length hardened under my touch, and joy settled in my stomach, knowing it was thanks to me.
"Take it deeper, baby," he moaned, and I swallowed it as far as I could, relaxing my throat. "Fuck, that's it. Just like this."
I sucked his dick as if my life depended on it. I used my hand to magnify the pleasure, and occasionally, I massaged his balls. His breath grew heavier, and his eyes rolled in the back of his skull. I knew it wouldn't take long for him to finish, but then again, he interrupted the play.
"Stop, princess," he ordered, and my eyes widened, but my body reacted instinctively to his command. "Get on all fours."
"Your leg," I breathed when I climbed the bed, momentarily thinking if it was a good idea.
"Fuck the leg," he growled, and I giggled but instantly gasped when he harshly entered me. No one was in that hole for more than two months because I couldn't think about sex and masturbation while he was in the hospital, and this rough invasion made me scream and pant.
"Are you okay?" He stopped for a moment, moving my hair to the side to see my face, but I needed him to continue.
"Yes, I'm good." I pushed the side of my face into the mattress, twisting my arm behind to take his hand, and he entwined our fingers, resuming the pounding .
It was quick and wild. I whined and moaned, finishing with a loud scream, and he followed me with a roar. We both collapsed on his tiny bed, sweaty and panting, barely able to move from satisfying exhaustion.
"What about your leg?" I whispered, lifting myself. He positioned himself on his back, and I lay on him, resting my chin on his chest.
"I think I lost it somewhere between ‘ Oh fuck’ and ‘ Come for me’ ," he answered, chuckling, and I snorted.
"Be serious, please." I hovered over him, frowning, and he opened one eye lazily, wrapping his arm around my neck and pushing me back on his chest.
"Rest, princess. I'm fine."
His stern voice forced my inner good girl to shut up, but I still checked his right leg. It looked okay, so I snuggled closer to him and watched the clear blue Oregon sky through the window.
All my worries slowly dissipated, and eventually, with a calmness covering me like a blanket, I fell asleep.