24. Cole #2
Morgan synchronizes his ministrations to the hypnotic rhythm of the ocean, stroking my cock upward as the wave crests, twisting gently the way I like, all without breaking suction.
Meanwhile, he works miracles with his other hand, massaging the tension around my hips, fingertips burrowing under me to knead my ass cheek, releasing trigger points around my groin as his fingers inch closer to my hole.
“This is my punishment, isn’t it?”
That’s how Morgan is. I hold all the power, but he punishes me when I need absolution.
His eyes darken, and he swaps his mouth for his hand with a smirk. “What do you think, Sunshine? Have I punished you enough?”
I nod like a bobblehead.
“Alright, then.” He nudges my thighs up, and rests his forearm behind my knees to keep them out of the way. “Mm. I can’t wait to taste you here.” His voice turns muffled as he licks and kisses my balls, then his tongue flickers against my hole.
He reacquaints himself with languid licks, coaxing my hole into relaxing, then spears the tip of his tongue inside me.
“Oh, fuck,” I say in an awe-laced rasp.
He laughs wickedly, then dives back in, devouring me with rabid enthusiasm, no doubt leaving a beard rash that will sting deliciously tomorrow. But I need more.
Morgan must read that in my body language, just like he did in the engine room, because he scoops up the saliva dripping down from his sloppy blow job and spits onto his hand for good measure.
“Morgan, please.”
He lifts his head and rakes his gaze up the length of my body in a way that makes me feel degraded and exalted all at once. Then his fingertip circles my rim and sinks in. Pain simmers under the surface, but it’s a speck of sand in an ocean of pleasure.
“Fuck, baby. You’re so hot and tight inside.” He kisses my thigh. “Relax, sweetheart, and let me in.”
I take a deep breath, and focus on opening myself to him, falling apart more and more with each centimeter he pushes past my ring.
“That’s it. You’re taking me so well.”
My heart clenches with gratitude at his approval, even if the only thing I’m taking is a finger.
He tightens his palm around my cock and strokes me faster. The pad of his finger grazes my prostate, and I moan so loud and guttural everyone in radio range probably heard.
“That’s the sound you made that first time down in the engine room, so loud I could hear you over the engines.
” He massages my prostate and focuses his hand over the top third of my cock as he licks my hole, then adds another finger.
“Your face was so anguished, I worried I was doing it wrong. I thought someone would catch us, but I didn’t give a fuck.
I’d brave the fallout to put you out of your misery. ”
A wave of pleasure builds and builds and builds. Bliss tingles from my fingertips to my toes. The rock and sway of the boat sloshes endorphins through my body in the most delicious way. It’s a high overshadowing any painkiller.
“Wait.” I grab his shoulder. “I’m close. I’m close. I’m close. I need you inside me when I come.”
Morgan’s pupils dilate so wide they almost eclipse his irises. He shakes his head like he’s not sure if this is real life or one of those fantasies he mentioned, then he slowly withdraws his fingers. “Do you have any lube?”
“Yeah. Top drawer.”
He quirks a brow. “What for?”
“I’ve been training myself so I could take you…” I drop my gaze, suddenly shy. “Just in case we worked things out, I mean.”
After he left me wanting and told me it was my turn to fight for him, I started working my way up to a dildo closer to his size.
He says nothing. My cheeks heat, brain buzzing with anxiety. What if I can’t satisfy him? What if he doesn’t want me?
“Plus, I was feeling superstitious, and thought that maybe if I brought lube, we’d find a use for it,” I ramble onward, filling the silence. “It’s been so long since you fucked me.”
We’d only just started experimenting with penetrative sex before I kicked him out.
I couldn’t take him unless he fucked me shallow and stilted.
I missed being filled so much, and was so frustrated with myself that I’d tense up, making my pain worse.
Despite his reassurances, I felt so inadequate; yet another reason why I made him leave.
“Oh, I know exactly how long it’s been since you let me inside your sweet hole,” he finally says in a sultry purr that pulls me from the past. “It’s hot as hell that you kept yourself ready for me.”
“Thank you.” His praise heals something in me.
“Anytime, Sunshine.” He smiles and kisses my cheek. “Top drawer, you said?”
“Mmhm.” Butterflies flutter in my stomach.
He climbs off me, and reaches over the edge of the bed to open the drawer beneath, cock jutting out from his body, large balls hanging below so temptingly that I sit up and cup them in my palm.
His breath hitches. His search slows. It’s my fault, I know.
I kiss the base of his spine between the twin dimples on his lower back. “You’re taking too long.” I nudge him aside, and find the bottle easily, then push him onto his back and straddle his lap. “I’m taking over.”
“I forgot how bossy you are when you bottom.”
I smirk. “You didn’t forget.”
He makes a pillow of his palms beneath the back of his head, baring both pits, and I arch down to inhale his natural scent mixed with woodsy deodorant as I pop the cap of the lube bottle. I pull back and douse his cock with lube, then stroke him to cover every inch.
“Fuck,” he gasps, hips thrusting into the circle of my hand, looking as starved as I feel, fingers sliding up my abs and around toward my ass.
My stomach swoops with the realization that I’m about to sit on my husband’s cock for the first time in half a year.
I remind myself that I can take him, that I’ve practiced, then I rise onto my knees and slowly sink down his length until I run out of dick, reigniting pleasure I never thought I’d experience again.
Morgan buries his teeth in his bottom lip, leaving crescent indents behind when he says, “Fuck,” long and drawn out, like he has to utter a ‘u’ for each month we spent apart. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” I move to ride back up his length.
He grabs my hips. “Wait. Slow down, or I’m going to get off before you do.”
“Reminds me of one of our first times.” I laugh.
Morgan tenses. “No laughing either.”
“What am I allowed to do, then?”
“Just stay put and look cute.”
“I am a six-foot-one fisherman with overgrown stubble. I’m not cute.”
“Whatever you say, Sunshine.”
“Do you remember the first time I made you come?” I want to reminisce too, and it’ll give us both a chance to cool down long enough to finish together.
“I watched you jack off before, and I paid attention to what you liked.” I spit into my hand and demonstrate the long pulls on my cock.
“The little tells that you were getting close, how your breath hitched when your thumb dragged under your crown. I was so nervous. What if I disappointed you? But you told me I couldn’t fuck it up, that I could shake your cock like a hand and you would bust a nut. ”
His cock twitches inside me as he laughs.
“It wasn’t very smooth, but you told me what I needed to hear, and it finally gave me the courage to reach out and touch you. I wanted to make you proud, to blow your mind with my nonexistent sexual prowess.”
Morgan smiles, even as tears well in his eyes. I get it. Remembering how far we’ve come, and how close we came to divorce makes everything more poignant, even our clumsy firsts.
“You were trying so hard to hold back your excitement, and let me lead.” I stroke my length and milk pre-cum from the tip, modeling what I did then.
He licks his lips, probably subconsciously, and I gather my pre-cum on my fingers and serve it to him. Wordlessly, he sucks my fingers into his mouth, and hums. My mouth salivates at the eroticism of it.
“I stroked you twice, Mr. Morrissey.” I lift two fingers. “Twice. And you came so explosively I think I actually jumped.”
He grins, wide and easy. “I don’t remember that.”
“No, I’m serious. Why do you think it took me a week to work up the nerve to ask if I could blow you? I was afraid cum would shoot out of my nose. But you made me feel like a king, like you really wanted me as much as I wanted you.”
“I did.”
I smile. “Remember the first time you topped me? I was so nervous, but you made me feel safe. You did all that research on how to prep, and somehow—I don’t know how—you made what could have been really uncomfortable, so intimate.
I felt no shame, because I knew if we made a mess, you wouldn’t judge me. ”
“Never.” His lust-drunk eyes turn tender. “It meant so much to me that you trusted me. I wanted to take care of you, to make it good for you.”
“You made it so good, ate my ass for what felt like an eternity, took your time stretching me, adding more and more lube, holding me in place even as I begged you to fuck me.”
“I was in awe of you, how well you took me, how tightly you wrapped around me.” Flaring his hands back toward my crack, he traces the place where we’re connected, voice low and smoldering.
He takes my cock in hand and strokes me root to tip in one long, decadent pull.
“How you clenched around me even tighter when I touched your cock.”
His hold on me loosens, and I take full advantage of his momentary distraction to greedily rise up his length and sink down again, moaning with ecstasy. I’m only human, and I’ve deprived us both for too long.
Morgan’s head falls back, baring his Adam’s apple. He releases a long, broken moan. There’s something so sexy about my tall, strong, masculine husband coming apart for me, melting into a puddle of depravity. He grabs a palmful of my ass, then slaps it. “I told you to stay.”
“Life’s too short out here,” I say, riding him shamelessly. “We can always go again.”