18. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
I prepared for my weekend evening ritual: a bath with my bath bomb, a cup of tea, and slugging so many products on my face that I’d age in reverse like Benjamin Button. I put on my fluffy, terry cloth bathrobe and prepared to give my gutter-cleaning, tired muscles a soak.
I heard a gentle knock. The doorbell camera confirmed Beau was on my doorstep.
“Two for two in answering the door in a state of undress.” He embraced me, grabbing my ass and going in for a kiss.
I split us apart for a moment. “I thought you wanted some family time.”
“I’m sure we can negotiate a housework/sex life balance.”
We soaked in my bathtub, his back against my boobs and my legs hugged around him. I stroked his wet hair. His expression was contemplative and not quite its purely sunny self. “Thank you for helping me today,” he said.
“Strangely, I liked cleaning gutters with you.”
“I needed you there. At the hospital.” He interlaced his fingers with mine and sighed. “I hated being there with him. I was getting these body tremors as if I was back after the accident.”
“I wish I could've been there for you.” I hooked my chin on his shoulder. “You know you can count on me, right?” I wasn’t going with the flow. I was flowing and going straight to relationship labels and coupledom. Maybe we should name our situation “friends with benefits.” Friends cleaned gutters and were there for each other in emergencies. I’d love to have a friend like that .
He walked his fingers on the ledge of the bathtub seeming distracted. “Do you think I’m a loser?”
Nothing could be further from the truth. I had my legs wrapped around the hottest guy in town.
I laughed. “Has that been bothering you this whole time?”
“Living with your parents because you can’t afford to live anywhere else isn’t exactly sexy.”
“Well, you're already handsome, funny, and great in bed. If you added living in a mansion you own, I think I’d have to slash your tires to balance out your karma. You just can't be that perfect.” I ran my fingers along the ridges of his torso. “Besides, I like you. Every part.” I painted his body with suds, thinking how I had captured his dimensions in a silly cartoon. My electronic sketch pad had accumulated an embarrassing amount of Beau prototypes, as if he were a muse.
Fresh out of the bath, I lay on my stomach as he helped me apply my eczema association approved moisturizer. I learned how much he loved my legs and ass with how many strokes they received.
He said, “Your hamstrings are tight. You need to stretch them out better. I know someone who offers stretch classes. ”
“Is that someone you?” I nuzzled my cheek against the arm propping my head. His thumbs grazed high enough to touch my pussy.
I arched toward his playful fingers. “Are you initiating?”
“You initiated the moment you opened the door in that robe of yours.”
“Then you should see me on Sundays. I practically live in the thing.”
His hands stayed high and spread my wetness. “Turn over.”
I complied. He dragged me across the bed until my head hung off the ledge.
“What are you up to?” I asked. My pussy throbbed at all the possibilities.
He stood over me, his penis bobbing inches from my chin. “Lick.”
I opened my mouth, held out my tongue, and traced it along his shaft, prodding the sensitive area right under his dusky head. He sucked in a breath between his teeth and responded in kind by pinching my nipples, which sent lightning bolts south. I writhed and wriggled. But his hands smoothed down my torso and braced my legs. Once I stilled, he didn’t help my erotic tumult when his fingers dipped and stroked along my seam .
I hummed against his tip and popped it in my mouth. The sounds he made sent as much of a surge between my legs as his fingers did, spreading and caressing. I wasn’t sure who started it, but I took more of him into my mouth. I breathed deeply through my nose, opened my mouth ah , and spread my tongue. He thrust his hips, his cock going down my throat. For a moment, I resisted, gagging on him, yet he held himself deep. I relaxed again, taking sips of air through my nose, and he resumed fucking my throat. After a few pumps, he pulled out. I inhaled the fresh and crisp air. I used my slobber to give him sloppy wet strokes.
“Again?” he asked, his voice growly and needy.
“Sure.” Could I sound more Midwestern? Maybe if I said, “You make my pussy go ope .”
“Beg for it.”
I had to twist my nipples just to contain myself. I loved it when he got bossy. “Please, please, I need you to fuck my throat.”
He shoved himself past my lips, not as nicely as before. The force sent more vibrations all over my body. His fingers plunged inside me, hooking and rubbing against my G-spot as fast and desperate as his thrusts. And then, I learned, female ejaculation wasn’t so mythical while coming hard, my cries muffled by his cock.
“You’re so good at throating my dick. I have to stop before I lose control.” My body was still shaking when he threw me around the bed like a rag doll, finally resting my head against the pillows. He lowered himself between my legs. “I’m going to show you what a good girl you’ve been.”
“Show me with that mouth and tongue,” I pleaded.
Oh, and he did. Even rubbed his nose in it like he lived off it, as if he needed me like oxygen and water. I knew multiple orgasms existed. They weren’t a common feature in my bedroom games. But I had to suffocate him with my thighs as another torrent ripped right through me. He pulled me up to his face and kissed me, making sure his tongue shared my taste. A drug never got me this high. I didn't know my name, what day it was. I was just a body that needed Beau servicing it. He flipped me onto my stomach and pulled my hips up so I could present myself to him. I rested on my forearms as he gently caressed my ass cheeks. Then he gave it a sharp slap. I was screaming, laughing, crying in outer space.
“Again.” I moaned. He landed another slap on the other ass cheek. I bit down on a ripple in my sheets. He probed me, slicking my juices over my pleated entrance. “I can’t wait for you to fuck me there.” I whined because I’d been reduced to a begging mouth and body.
“Patience.” He hissed. Foil ripped, and he sheathed himself in a condom. He teased my pussy with the tip, dragging it from my willing hole to my clit.
I wiggled my hips. “I need it.”
He gave me just a bit, so I showed off how much his core classes strengthened my intimate muscles. He pulled out, his thumb rubbing my aperture. My hips searched for him, and my soaking wet entrance sheathed him until his hips met my ass. He gripped my cheeks and pumped slowly. I moved against him to show how rough and fast I needed it. I was mindless.
His fingers dug in my hips, and he went wild.
He used me and used me until he came. He gave me another playful slap on my ass as he settled.
I stretched out, lying prone and utterly obliterated. “I’m floating.”
I heard him move around my bedroom, the snap of latex as he ditched the condom, the glide of the sheets as he slid behind me in bed. He drew me in close to his chest, and his fingers skirted over my back. Listening to the rumble of his voice through his chest brought me back to Earth. “I’m needing a thesaurus to find the right adjectives to say. That was… a personal best?”
“You didn’t just use a workout term.”
“I did. If I knew cleaning gutters was going to turn me on so much, I’d have done it sooner.”
“Now we have to ask your parents if they want anything raked, weeded.”
He laughed. A beat passed that somehow caused the tension to grow.
“I feel like you’re about to say something,” I said into his chest.
“Do you want to get some dinner and drinks?”
I tilted my chin so I looked up at him. “Now?”
He nodded. I was too sex drunk to object. This wasn’t what personal trainers with benefits did. This was something couples did.
“Holy moly, we’ll have to shower again. I can’t wait to see my water bill this month,” I said.
“Actually, I want to get all dapper for you. Back here in half an hour?”
Before I had feeling back in my legs, he left my apartment in a sunny burst.