11. Clark #2
I rolled my hips, sliding my cock against his. “More than.”
Needing friction, I rolled my hips again to drive home the point. His moan turned guttural, and he matched my tempo. At this point, we were just two teenagers on the couch, kissing and rubbing against one another.
His breath was hot and heavy, necking me with messy, slurping kisses. Careful, like he was avoiding hickeys, but not too careful. Each sloppy kiss was a bolt of ecstasy down to my nuts. Nipples.
Fuck, even my asshole was clenching.
Monica and I ran pretty hot in college, but this was different. I was completely under his spell, passion boiling up and over inside of me, without a care or hesitation in the world. Full extension off the fucking cliff.
Nothing about this felt sneaky or secretive either. There’s something to be said for a taboo encounter, but this wasn’t that. Every move, every hump, every hot, lustful slide was like campfire. Fresh air. Cool springs. Mountain views.
This ranch.
Maybe it was better to say that everything felt natural. Inevitable. Tuning-fork sharp.
The heat between us was so intense that the orgasm was right up on me before I had a chance to catch my breath.
“Fuck, Beau,” I choked out. “Gonna come.”
“M’ too,” he grunted.
The rough material rubbing between us, the textures, the smell of him, the heat of his tongue on my neck, then in my mouth.
I thrust up as he thrust down, the orgasm hitting me like a shock wave, firecrackers along every nerve ending.
I threw my head back, mouth opened in a silent scream, the tendons in my neck ready to snap.
“Fu—uck.” Beau’s voice cracked. He sped up his hips. “So fucking good.”
His grunting quickly became panting, before turning into high-pitched moans, slow presses of his cock against mine, heat pulsing between us as he rocked against me.
“Fuck. Fuck.”
“Ditto,” I tossed back, breathless, riding out the last shivering remains of my orgasm.
His entire boneless body pressing down on me was the thing I never knew I always needed. I was swimming in feel-good hormones, floating on a blissful tide.
He inhaled deeply, pushing the air out of my lungs, then went up on his forearms, pressing his forehead against mine.
“Sorry,” he breathed out. “Just waiting until I feel my legs again.”
I squirmed under him, soaking up this yummy feeling. Enjoying the mingling scent of our cum.
With a kiss to my brow, he pushed himself to standing, and I whined.
Then blushed, because who does that?
He laughed, wavering on his feet as he held out his hand.
“Can we shower together?”
I should’ve felt more self-conscious, maybe. But the slick in my underwear felt like the bravest thing I’d ever done, and I couldn’t find it in me to be ashamed. I wanted to do it all over again. Clothed. Unclothed. Letting my mouth explore his body; letting his mouth explore mine.
“Clark?”
“I’m sorry.” I rolled onto my side. “Frot-drunk.”
His laugh was low and dangerous. My cock, which was too old for such things, twitched.
“So … is that a yes? Or are we just gonna walk around with drying cum in our pubes?” he asked, motioning for me to take his hand.
“Definitely yes.”
I let him help me up, and the cabin swam before my eyes. “Not to compare, but my old college roommate never left me cross-eyed.”
He bit his lip and pulled me toward my bedroom. I let him.
We shimmied out of our clothes while the water heated. The cum situation was quickly becoming dire, but I was happy to report that my interest in the rugby body type was still as strong as ever.
I’d felt pretty small next to him this entire trip, but now, with intimate knowledge of his tree trunk thighs and thick cock, I felt practically elven.
I mean, I’m not a slouch in the dick department, but … Jesus.
I clenched at the thought of it.
Hrn.
I mean … it’s not a no, but…
Way ahead of yourself there, Clark.
I started kissing him to distract myself from a specific visual in my head. Would he take his time? Would he understand that I’d need a crazy amount of prep, both mental and physical, for that kind of thing?
Holy fuck, why was I imagining this already?
“What’s this look?” he asked, pulling me into the large shower. “I can tell your imagination has gone into overdrive, but I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.”
“How the fuck is that supposed to fit?” I asked, gesturing at the goddamned anaconda between his legs.
I immediately grimaced because what the fuck was I saying?
“Slowly, and with consent,” he answered, grinning as he pulled me against the solid mass of his chest.
River was right. I am such a dork.
“This water pressure is fucking amazing,” I mumbled, nosing his nipple as I let the water beat down on me.
Instead of calling me out on the subject change, Beau grunted, palming the back of my head.
I looked up, blinking water from my lashes. “You like?”
He ran his teeth over his bottom lip and nodded. I nosed him again, and he inhaled sharply. I licked my lips, then drew the tight peak into my mouth.
“Clark,” he moaned, his cock thickening between us.
I sucked, letting my hands roam over his hips. His ass.
“Bite it,” he demanded. “Lightly.”
I grinned, sucking him between my teeth with the slightest amount of pressure. His cock pressed against my hip. He grabbed my cheeks, massaging them and pulling me against him.
“Fuck, stop,” he said, pushing me away.
I blinked slowly.
He chuckled. I opened one eye. “Why do I feel like you’re making fun of me?”
“Not making fun.” He rolled his lips inward. “But you’re incredibly cute when you’re horny.”
I snarled at him, but he gestured to his drooling cock. “I almost came again.”
“Really?” I asked, far too proud of myself.
Maybe that’s why I didn’t realize that he was repositioning me face first up against the wall.
“I’m not…” I froze. “Not ready for…”
He kissed my shoulder. “I don’t wanna fuck you. I wanna eat you.” He pressed more kisses along my shoulders. Up my neck.
“Eat me as in…”
He went to his knees behind me and spread my cheeks. Nosing at my hole, he repeated, “Eat you.”
“Oh.” Deep breath. “Yes, please.”