Page 5 of Protected By the Mountain Man

“I’ll be right back,” I said.

I hated leaving her, but the last thing we needed was a customer wandering in off the street. I’d been listening for the front door the entire time I was working. Yes, normally I would have done that with any customer, but this time I was especially vigilant. This woman, whose name I still did not know, had been sitting topless in my tattoo booth for more than an hour.

I locked the door, turned off the open sign, and hit the lights to make everything dark. To anyone driving by, we’d look closed even though it was only seven o’clock on a Friday night. I didn’t care. I’d stay closed the rest of the weekend if I could spend it making love to this woman.

I whipped my shirt over my head as I walked through the door to the room. My goal was to make it clear I was following through on her condition.

She had her legs uncrossed and slightly spread as she watched me. I wondered if she was wet. What I wouldn’t do to slide my finger under the elastic band of those white cotton panties and see for myself.

My dick was embarrassingly hard. I saw that as I unfastened my jeans and slid those and my boxers down. Finally, I stood naked in front of her, my clothes in a pile to my right.

“Now what?” she asked. “Do I touch my breasts first?”

She was asking me to walk her through it. I could do that. It was just surprising that a woman would reach her twenties and not know how to pleasure herself.

But maybe it was different for women. As soon as I’d gotten the slightest bit of pleasure from putting my hand on my cock, I had a hard time stopping. Far too many hours of my teenage years had been spent in the bathroom door, locked, fan on, hoping nobody would wonder why I was in there so long.

“First, slide your hand inside your panties,” I said.

She stared at me a long moment and I held my breath. What if she backed out completely and here I was, naked, with the stiffest erection of my life?

But she lifted her right hand and did exactly what I suggested, closing her eyes as she slid her fingers beneath the waistband. I breathed a sigh of relief. This was on.

“Now, keep going,” I said, wrapping my hand around my cock, as if that could relieve the intense pressure. “Slide a finger inside. You don’t have to go too deep. Are you wet?”

She nodded. “Uh-huh.”

I moved my hand from my tip to my shaft. I was dying to relieve myself, but it was worth holding out to eventually feel that tight pussy wrapped around my cock.

She let out a sigh, and beneath the thin fabric, I could see her hand working. She was sliding her finger inside herself and out.

“Now, touch your clit,” I said, forgetting for a second that she might have no clue what that was. If she’d been sheltered all her life, she probably wouldn’t have looked up her own anatomy on the internet, and they certainly wouldn’t have taught that sort of thing in her private school.

But she gave a nod, and she adjusted her hand position at the same time her eyes popped open. Her gaze homed in on my hand as I slowly stroked. I made my strokes bolder and she let out an “Oh” before closing her eyes again.

Seeing me jerking off turned her on. I’d do that anytime, anywhere for her, if that was what she wanted. I’d rather feel her mouth and her pussy around me, but I’d have all of those things in time. I just needed to practice patience.

Her fingers started moving faster—so fast it had my heart racing. I could clearly see her movements through the cloth. I even thought about asking her to remove the panties. I’d love to have a look at that sweet pussy.

Instead, I watched quietly as her back arched and she tilted her head upward slightly. I knew it wouldn’t be long. She was on the verge of what I assumed would be her first-ever orgasm.

“Oh, fuck,” she cried out, followed by a long, “Oh.”

I couldn’t help but smile, guessing that profanity was one of those rules she’d never broken. Finally, she stilled, then slid her hand out from under the elastic band of her panties. Her eyes opened and her gaze immediately went to my hand, her chest rising and falling as she watched me stroke myself.

“Can I try that?” she asked.

I looked down, as if that was necessary to figure out what she was talking about. My hand stilled and I lifted my head again.

“You can do anything you want.”

With a smile, she gestured for me to come to her. I didn’t have to be asked twice. I was across the room in just a few steps, standing in front of her on the seat where I’d tattooed her breast just minutes ago.

I couldn’t hold back anymore. I had to kiss her, and I had to kiss her now. I leaned over and slid my hand behind her neck, running my thumb along her jaw as I stared down at her. The mischievous gleam disappeared from her eye, replaced by pure lust. She wanted this as much as I did.

I finally pressed my lips to hers, and it felt like coming home. She returned my kiss, her tongue tangling with mine as I struggled to catch my breath.

I could have kissed her for hours, alternating between desperate passion and sweet longing. But suddenly, I felt her hand wrap around my cock, and all thoughts of kissing flew out the window. She slid her fingers over my tip, then plunged all the way to the base, only to pull back out again. It was way too quick and awkward, but it felt so damn good, anyway.

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