29. Epilogue
“ Holy shit! I think this thing is a safety hazard!” Beau had turned on Georgia the Destroyer of Clits.
I was naked, tied up by my robe tie—this time attached to my bed because we kinksters bought a headboard with posts. I had graduated to the biggest bulb in my collection and was already squirming and aching from the full sensation of it. And the full attention Beau was giving my body with my toys. He was always a firm believer that accessories strengthened our practices.
He lay on his side fully clothed, propping his head up with one hand as the other controlled Georgia. He massaged the outside of my boob with it; the pulse from it pulled my nipple tight and sent a message straight to my aching core. My back arched off the bed as the dual sensations in my pelvis worked together to drive me into a frenzy.
He did the same to my other boob, ever the believer in what someone did with one side, they had to do with the other to maintain proper balance and form. Then he ran Georgia under my belly button. Vibrations bounced between the bigger plug and my clit. He wasn’t hitting the spot and yet, hit the spot from multiple directions. I squirmed and kicked; my wrists held lightly in place by the tie of my robe.
He kneeled, sitting on one of my legs and gripping the other firmly at my thigh. It was to keep me from thrashing. He guided the thing along the inside of my leg. The toy buzzing at the crease of my thigh wound me so tightly. I throbbed with a needy little pain. Beau forcing me to be still compounded the pleasure.
Georgia grazed just to the right of my clit and the left. I had lost any control over my moans. They were cries wrung out from his playfulness. Finally, he sicced Georgia on my swollen bud. I came in an instant. It was like being at the end of his advanced boot camp all over again.
“You like being full,” he taunted as he let go of my thigh and slicked his thumb with my pleasure. He held my face, shoving his soaked thumb into my mouth. “You love feeling me in every one of your needy little holes.”
I sucked his thumb and hummed with how delicious he’d get me to taste. I nodded desperately.
He rolled off me and stood up, gently guiding me on to my stomach. He propped my belly with a pillow to raise my ass higher in the air. His clothes hit my floor, and I heard the pump of lube.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
I rested my cheek on the mattress and turned my gaze toward him. My sunshine man had surrendered to his dark, ravenous side. He glowered as he stroked himself with his lubed hand, his cock dusky and hard.
His other hand tugged the bulb free from my ass. He tossed it somewhere on the bed where it landed with a muted thud . As the hand that pleasured himself rotated from the middle part of his shaft to over his tip, his other hand massaged my aperture. It was so hot looking at him possessed with desire. I attempted to hump the pillow beneath my belly to take care of my aching need .
A hard smack landed on my ass, which sent my eyes rolling in the back of my head. “Beg for it.”
“Fuck me,” I moaned.
Another smack on my other cheek. “Where do you want me?” His fingers circled exactly where.
“My ass, Coach.”
He pumped more lube. His weight behind me on the mattress shifted. The crown of his bare cock pressed against me. He nudged in, made it past the first tight ring. He rubbed my hip as I adjusted to the invasion, a different sensation from the plugs or his fingers. The discomfort became a new boundary crossed, and I took more of him inside me. I shivered; a cold sweat tingled over my skin. He caressed my back, telling me what a good girl I was, and I pushed myself all the way into him, feeling his hips meet my ass.
I trembled, much like my first time but so much better, because he loved me, and I loved him. And his careful attention and adoration fortified the trust between us. I couldn’t wait for more future with him, more adventures.
His deft fingers targeted my sweet spot as he gently moved inside me.
“Are you good?” he asked .
“So, so, good.” My husky voice overran with desire. "Your good girl." I widened my knees and felt him go deeper as I stretched around him.
My eager and relaxed body invited him for more. He pulled all the way out of me so I wiggled my hips to plead for that feeling again. Then he entered me, powerful and swift. My breath ripped from my throat.
“I’m going to come embarrassingly soon,” he whispered weakly against my temple, as if the pumps I was giving him were draining him of his life force. His breathing quickened. “Oh Sir.” He left me with a pop, the heat of his cum laced my lower back. He squeezed my cheeks around his cock as he continued to pump and coat me in every last drop of him.
He flopped next to me and untied my hands. I crossed them underneath my chin as I let the new sensations wash over me. The gentle bristle of a hand towel cleaned some of him off me.
“How was that?” His voice was still breathless.
“Not something I’d want to do every day but—” I chuckled. It was one of the hottest things I’d ever done in a top ten list of hot acts. And Beau’s name was by every single one like a series of high scores at an arcade .
I wasn’t sure if any words could quite capture what it felt to have a lover so committed to exploring new things with me. It made me feel the sexiest I ever felt, but it also was comforting—that I somehow wasn’t a deviant with some unexplored trauma. I was just me sharing my body with him because I loved him. “Maybe we save it for special occasions—holidays, birthdays,” I said.
“Special occasion, hmm?”
I nodded, my eyes closed, still rolling in the fugue. The weight shifted in the bed as Beau reached for something. It sounded as if he fidgeted in the pockets of his pants. He returned to bed.
“How about we make tonight extra special, then?” He brushed a hand against my cheek. I finally opened my eyes.
Right in my face was a square-cut ruby and gold ring. “The fuck?!” I popped up in bed.
“Saoirse Hooper, will you—”
“You can’t propose to me with your dick out.” I sprung out of bed and scrambled for my satin nightie crinkled on the floor. He stepped into his boxers and walked on his knees to me.
“Saoirse will—”
“Yes!”
“I haven’t even asked yet. ”
“Sorry. Nervous.”
“I have no idea what the future will hold, but the one sure thing I want is you by my side. Will you marry me, Saoirse Hooper?”
Tears spilled from my eyes. All I could do was nod.
Maybe my printing business will flop. Maybe it will succeed. Maybe Beau will take the fitness world by storm. Maybe he won’t. But who am I kidding? He definitely will. Maybe the only baby I’ll have is a cartoon one who has conversations with me about the emotions I find hard to process. Maybe Beau and I will have our rainbow baby. Or maybe our rainbow child is waiting for us to find them.
What is a constant in my visions of the future is Beau because he wants the best for me, even if I’m the one standing in my own way.
Whatever we do, I will give it my all. No foot pointed in the direction of the exit. I will ride that beak in a metaphorical sense. Up until this year, I had never won anything in my life, but I think it was because life was saving up for me and finally paid me in dividends. Beau helped me uncover a better version of me: fearless and open-minded.
And occasionally, when I’m really excited, I will woo .