CHAPTER FIVE #2
He’s already good and hard against me. And I am so wet it is obscene.
We haven’t even gotten fully naked yet, and this might be the best sex of my life.
Seriously. Then he lowers me onto the mattress with a parting kiss.
My lips are most definitely wet and swollen.
And the taste of him is all mint toothpaste and hot man.
“Are you good to lose your pants?” he asks, his breathing as rapid as mine.
“Yeah.”
His fingers hook on the waistband, and with one tug, they’re gone.
No more than a flannel cotton memory lying on the floor in the corner of the room.
Next, my fluffy socks go flying. I am naked as the day I was born.
Dean pulls open the top drawer on the bedside table and grabs a box.
He swears quietly at the delay when his fingers fumble over the plastic.
Then he tears off a condom and sets it on the bed beside me.
“What about your pants?” I ask.
“Soon,” is all he says before getting to his knees.
The way he grabs my legs and drags me to the edge of the bed—putting me right where he wants me—it is all more than a little thrilling.
His big hands hold my thighs open as he lowers his face to my sex.
He breathes me in with a happy sigh. Which makes me a little nervous honestly.
But he seems delighted at the scent or me.
He wastes no time in nuzzling me and sucking on my labia.
Just generally driving me wild. The flat of his tongue drags through my middle and oh boy.
How everything in me focuses on those feelings.
On the shivers running down my back and the perfect pressure building low in my belly and spine.
Can’t recall the last time a man went down on me.
And the way Dean obviously relishes doing this makes all the difference.
He fucks me with his tongue before teasing me from my clit to my ass.
No part of me is left untended. I lie there panting on the bed, my hands fisting the sheets.
All the while, he works me higher and higher.
The man obviously believes in the woman coming first. And I could honestly salute him for his efforts.
By the time he starts sucking my clit in earnest, I am poised to plummet.
It’s like freefalling into the sky. Like shedding my body and flying.
My muscles spasm, and it’s all him. His touch and expertise.
How much he enjoys this moment. It’s obvious in the way his fingers press into my thighs.
In how he pauses to whisper words of encouragement now and then.
I come against his face, and it is so good.
Breathtaking and beautiful. There’s every chance I shouted his name to the heavens.
But hey…he more than deserves the recognition.
By the time I come back down, he’s ditched his pajama pants and is rolling on the condom.
He lifts me into the middle of the bed and climbs over my body.
His dick is a bit thicker than most I have seen.
Which can only mean good things for me. If he knows how to use it.
Given his above average oral skills, my hopes are sky high.
As previously imagined, his whole body is sublime.
I would draw him if I had the least talent.
But my basic stick figure capabilities would not do him justice.
Not even a little. The muscles in his long legs, his calves, and the thicker thighs.
How his hips have those dips that drive me wild.
I love the scent of him. A lingering hint of cologne and clean male sweat.
There is every chance I will be licking the man asap.
“Are we good?” he asks in a voice deeper than before.
“Yes,” I breathe.
Our mouths meet again, and the taste of me on his tongue suits him just fine.
I might yet brand the boy with my name. It’s not out of the question.
All of the good hormones are floating around inside me from the orgasm.
I wrap my legs and arms around him and hold on tightly, wanting to have him in me good and deep, both his cock and his tongue.
I want to give back to him what he gave to me.
Have him come. Make him feel as good as can be.
He lines up the blunt head of his cock and pushes in sure but steady.
I gasp at the feel of him. At the slight burn as he stretches me.
At the sudden awareness of those recently unused muscles.
He groans against my ear and buries his face in my neck.
His breath is warm against my skin. It’s all so up close and personal, having him against me.
This might be our first time, but there’s none of the awkward or embarrassing feelings that you might expect.
It feels right to have him wrapped up in me.
When he’s as deep as he can be, he licks my neck before biting it, before fucking me.
Slow, long thrusts at first. But he soon builds up the speed and force.
I lock my ankles behind his back and hang on for dear life.
He took the request to fuck me seriously.
One of his hands slides down my side, gripping my ass cheek nice and tight.
My skin is sure to show some small marks tomorrow.
And though he tries to kiss me, we’re too frantic, our bodies too demanding.
I raise my hips with each thrust, meeting him halfway and urging him on.
Faster. Deeper. More. The slap of his skin against mine fills the room along with the scent of sex. If I could bottle and keep it I would.
He builds me back up gradually. I don’t often come twice.
I don’t always come at all. But Dean has taken the job of proving we work together in bed to heart, it would seem.
And I was a fool to doubt him. The man knows what he’s doing.
Our bodies fit just fine. I moan and hold on as tightly as can be.
While he angles himself to give me that necessary pressure.
It is electric, the way he turns me on. How he blows my mind.
Everything in me tenses down low and fuck.
“That’s my good girl,” he mutters. “Come on me, Jude. I need to feel you.”
And I do. My heart is stuck in my throat, and my body just…
goes boom. All of the muscles inside of me clench at his cock and the noise he makes.
How he swears and slams himself into me.
The man knows how to fuck. I really do owe him an apology.
Which I will give just as soon as I come down once again from the heavens.
His hips buck, and his cock jerks as he comes.
The way he holds on to me so tightly is lovely. Like he might never let me go.
Sweat slicks our skin, and his body lies against mine.
I love the weight of him. The solidity of being held down against the mattress by his body this way.
Other times I was crowded or anxious after sex, but not with him.
With him, I feel safe. My limbs are all limp and melty.
Like I just got a really great massage or something.
And last but not least, my mind is at ease.
Dean is, without a doubt, just what I needed.
“You were right,” he mumbles. “We have no chemistry. We absolutely suck in bed.”
I reach down to slap him on the ass just because.
He laughs and groans. “How much sleep do you need?”
“Six hours minimum.”
“Me too. I say we rest for a bit, then we’ll give making love a go.”
I grin. “Sounds good.”
The next morning, over Pop-Tarts and coffee, it’s like we’ve been dating for a while. We move in sync, sharing small touches and little kisses in the kitchen. Like our bodies are hyper aware of each other and can’t stand to be apart for long.
It’s just seems so easy to fall into life with Dean. And I don’t want to fight the pull of this happiness and contentment.
Last night, he definitely fucked me. But around 4 a.m., we made love.
Slow. Gentle. He kissed every part of my body he could find.
Like he was worshiping me. Us. And something shifted in my brain.
Instead of wondering if I was doing anything wrong, or if he was thinking of anyone else, I just… let go.
I know he felt it. The change. Because his reverence turned to obsession. Like he couldn’t get enough. Of my taste. My touch. And when I whispered his name with my last orgasm, he plunged deep, hugged me hard, and sighed my name with his release.
He held me until morning and woke me with a smile and a kiss. Along with a cup of coffee.
Extra points for the coffee.
We showered together, which is a new experience I intend to repeat, and then dressed for the day.
“See you tonight,” he says on his way out, a small smile playing at his lips when he kisses me. “Don’t play too hard with the toddler.”
“Don’t worry.” I wink. “I intend to save my playtime for you.”
Yes, I’m corny. But that’s me.
And by the heated look he gives me, he likes me just fine.