Chapter 33
I’m standing outside his house, leaning against my car with a basket. When he walks out and catches my eye, that all-encompassing smile lights up his face.
“I’m driving,” I say, handing him the stuff.
It contains all his favorite snacks, from salt-water taffy to oyster crackers. Before we even get in the car I can hear him tearing packages open.
“Where are we going, and why did we have to leave this early?” He grabs the coffee I have for him in the cup holder and takes a heavy sip.
“LA.”
This gets a look from him, but all I do is boop his nose and pull out onto the street. He instantly turns down the heat, not understanding how we can be cold in these temperatures. Wearing just a long-sleeved shirt and no jacket, I don’t know how he’s not freezing.
“I’m going to die next week in Boston,” I say, already feeling the change in temperature.
“I got enough fat to warm you.”
“I have my own fat and it did nothing.”
“That’s why it’s got to be us together skin to skin under a blanket.”
I look at him and see him wiggling his eyebrows.
“We will be too busy with your family for any of that.” I point my finger at his stiffening dick. He adjusts and winks at me.
“It can’t help itself around you.”
“But you can.”
“If I could, do you think I would even want to?” He leans the seat back, letting me see the full hard-on, causing me to get wet.
Slowly my sex drive has been returning and we have been taking advantage of it. It makes me want to pull the car over and mount him, but there will be time for that later.
“You’re insatiable,” I say.
“For you.”
“All the time.”
“For the rest of our lives,” he says.
He grabs my hand and kisses it. The heat in my heart sinks in between my legs, and I find myself no longer feeling the cold.
The rest of the drive I try to make conversation that is not about sex, but seeing that he turned me on he turns everything into an innuendo. I don’t know whether to be horny or frustrated. Before I can decide, we start to get close.
“Okay, put this on,” I say, handing him a blindfold.
“I didn’t know it would be that kind of day, but yes, Mistress.”
I feel like my pants soak through to my seat from that one sentence.
“Save for that later,” I say, panting.
He nods and sits back, unable to see.
I park and then take his hand, leading him silently through the admission part. I convince them to let him sign the forms after he sees where we are, so they lead us out.
“Okay, you can look now,” I say.
He lifts up the mask and takes in the fact that we are on a race track. An exotic car is parked in front of us, both doors open. All around us are empty stands.
“What is this?” he asks, turning towards me, his eyes big.
“You get to race again, just legally. I thought—” Before I can finish my sentence, I am lifted into the air and spun around.
I laugh as he starts screaming and whooping. When he puts me down, his eyes are misty, and his smile looks like it’s hurting his cheeks.
“God, I love you,” he says before kissing me until I can’t think.
I melt in his arms and settle into this joy emitting from his pores. He doesn’t pull back until the instructor reminds us that we only have an hour.
We go through all the instructions and steps, and then Callahan is climbing into the car.
I can join him, but I want to film his first few laps.
He sits there for a moment, his hands gripping the wheel.
Even though I can’t see his full face I know he is just taking this in.
Then, with a wave, he rolls up the window and tears off.
The instructor’s eyes go wide as he sees the speed with which Callahan takes off.
I don’t think he was expecting him to hit those numbers on his first lap, but my man does.
Looking like he missed his calling, he takes the track like a crowd is watching.
I cheer like I’m watching a race as he does three full and fast laps.
When he comes back, he skids to a stop, drifting a little. The man puts his hands on his head, and I think in that moment he feels like he made a mistake.
“Let’s go, sweetheart!” Callahan yells.
I jump into the passenger seat and grab his face, giving him a searing kiss as he starts to take off again. Turning to face the road, he keeps both hands on the wheel and a wild smile on his face.
The first turn he takes has me screaming and him laughing.
Everything around us is blurring to the point that looking out the window makes me dizzy.
I just want to look at him anyway. I just want to see the way his cheeks pull.
The wild squint of his eyes. I’m lost in the elation emitting from him.
I feel it too. I always feel it when I’m with him.
The way he rains down love on me, I have no choice but to bloom. His shining joy and optimism is like basking in the sun. He feeds into me, and it’s now my chance to provide the sustenance back to him.
When we pull back to the front, he looks at me like I am filling him up. We just sit in silence, our eyes locked, breath heavy.
“Me and you,” I say, grabbing his hand.
“Forever,” he says, squeezing.
The guy knocks on the window, breaking our moment, and we turn to get out.
Callahan is quiet on the walk to the parking lot until we get to the car.
“I don’t know if you know what that meant to me.”
“I think I do.” I grab his hand, pulling him closer.
He turns me and presses me against the door, his mouth coming within inches of mine.
“That was my past and my present coming together. I was finally allowed to look back on who I was without guilt.”
“You deserve that. You get to be proud of the man you are, no matter what your dad thinks.”
He breathes out against my mouth and then kisses me so hungrily, it makes me feel starved too. It crawls under our skin and soon has us rushing to leave.
We couldn’t wait the six hours of the drive to consume each other, so we booked a hotel and kissed from the lobby until we closed the door.
That surge of sexual hunger I’ve been missing charges through me, flushing my skin in heat.
I feel a little bit more in control of my body, and ready to take back my agency.
Once in the room, I push him back.
“Strip,” I demand.
One corner of his mouth turns up as he backs up while pulling on his sleeve. In one swift move, his shirt goes up and over his head. Looking at the hair on his chest that trails down his stomach to disappear in his pants has me wanting to rush, but I have a plan.
Seeing me still watching him, he goes for his belt, taking his time unbuckling while licking his lips.
Then he whips it out of the holes and throws it down.
In one yank, his pants and underwear are off.
Then his socks. Completely naked, he stands there with his erection on full display.
The thickness of every part of his body is so damn sexy.
“Kneel.”
He drops to his knees and looks up at me, open and ready.
I walk over and run a hand over his head until I land on the back of his neck gripping tight. Leaning down, I place a gentle kiss on his lips. He’s eager for more, but I pull away before it can go deeper.
Stepping back, I slowly start pulling off my own clothes while I keep my eyes on his. Once I’m naked, I see his hands clench with the urge to grab me.
Walking past him to the bed, I crawl onto it.
He goes to stand, but I tsk my finger and point to the ground, telling him to stay there.
He stays on his knees, but turns to see me better.
I sit up against the headboard and let my legs fall open.
He can see my desire for him glistening on my lips.
He hisses before looking at me pleadingly.
“Just watch,” I say.
I slide my hands down my body, feeling its softness and curves.
Lingering on my breasts I pinch at my nipples and squeeze them causing me to moan a little.
When I get to my thighs, I slowly trail my fingers on the inside of them until I reach my center.
Sliding my index finger through my folds, I bring it to my lips and suck while moaning again.
He starts to stand, and I point that same finger at him.
“Stay.”
“Monty.”
“Did I say you can speak?”
“No.” His jaw clenches
“No, what?” I lift one eyebrow
“No, Mistress,” he growls out.
“Good boy.”
I swipe my finger again, this time going from top to bottom before sliding it inside.
Quickly adding a second one, I move them slowly.
I keep eye contact with him, watching as he grows more and more frustrated.
He moans with me and his eyes flutter, but he doesn’t touch himself.
I add a third finger then bring my other hand up around my neck squeezing a little.
“This is how I like to be touched. I want you to push into me with your big dick and wrap a hand around my throat.” My breath is short, and every other word sounds like I’m moaning, but I don’t stop moving or looking at him.
“Right now, Mistress?” His voice is taut, pulled tight by his lust.
“Not yet.”
I keep playing with myself while never looking away from him. His pupils dilate as his eyes shift between my gaping mouth and my thrusting fingers. His dick twitches and his hands flex as he fights with himself to stay there.
“Keep watching,” I rasp before speeding up. The rhythm has me stretching myself even more. Squeezing my neck a little tighter has my eyes rolling to the back of my head. I can’t help the cry that comes out at the pressure. I’m so close.
“Monty,” he growls, his voice desperate.
“Just watch,” I pant.
“Mistress, please.” His eyes are wild as they take me in.
Seeing him begging on his knees while I pleasure myself pushes me over the edge, forcing out my first orgasm. With a scream I throw my head back into the pillow and close my eyes. My legs twitch and spasm, shooting out straight.
When I stop shaking, I look at his dick and see even more pre-cum is leaking out. He is at the edge, and I haven’t even touched him yet.
“Do you know what to do now?” I ask him, still pumping my fingers in and out slowly.
“Yes,” he pants.
“Then you may touch.”
He pops up and pulls me up, smashing his mouth against mine. He sighs against my lips like I relieved his suffering. Removing my hands from my body, he replaces them with his.
His hand around my neck is gentle, barely applying pressure, while the way he slides his fingers in and out is wild and reckless.
“Harder,” I say, pressing down on his grip. He tightens, but still not enough.
“Harder.”
He closes his hand, his fingers gripping my throat and his palm pressing down.
It’s now difficult to breathe, and that’s what I like.
It’s all heightened by the fact that it’s him.
I finally trust him to do this to me when I never thought I would.
There’s no fear, no apprehension. Just us in this moment as I give in to our love.
When he sees that I’m satisfied, he slides his fingers out and moves me onto his dick. Sitting up, he lifts and lowers me by my neck, choking me as he slams me up and down.
His grunts and moans echo my gasping as he loosens and tightens his hand. He bites down on my nipples, pulling them back with a suck.
“Just like that,” I whisper, my voice barely capable of making a sound. He slaps my ass so roughly I know it will leave a mark.
The sound of his moaning, my labored breathing, and our bodies slapping together is the symphony of our pleasure. It plays for minutes that feel like hours as he forces me to ride his bucking hips.
“Callahan,” I hiss out. He grunts a low growl in the back of his throat as sweat burrows on his brow. “Faster.”
He picks up the speed until I’m bouncing on it, his body basically vibrating against mine.
When he flips and slams me down on the bed, his hand still around my throat, I cry out.
My legs fall open, and he thrusts in deeper than he was before, still keeping the same pace.
My head keeps hitting the headboard as he fucks me into the mattress so roughly that it feels like we are going to leave an indent.
I don’t want him to stop, the pain and pleasure is mixing so well.
“Good boy,” I praise, “I’m so proud of the way you are fucking me.”
I want to make this last, but I can’t hold back any longer.
I arch up so forcefully I push him into a kneeling position.
He keeps fucking me through my orgasm. When I deflate again, exhausted, he keeps going, searching for his own release.
Throwing my legs over his shoulders, he puts me at an angle where he can hit every sweet spot .
I spasm as shockwave after shockwave shoots through my body at the non-stop coming.
The way my pussy tightens around him finally has him coming as well. With one primal yell he pumps his release into me, collapsing on top of my body.
After a few moments to catch our breath, he lifts himself onto his elbows and looks down at me.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Mhm, are you?”
His fingers trail a path down my throat, to in-between my boobs, before resting on my hip.
“I’m fantastic.”
Rolling me on my side, he wraps his arms around me and strokes up and down my body. We just lie quietly until the soreness eases, and the sandman starts to put us under his spell.