Page 52 of Twin Babies For The Grump

We’re cast in shadows and flickering flashes of light. No one can see us. No one’s around. And if I expect Owen to take things easier and relax more, then it should be fine for him to expect me to be a bit more bold.

So I sink down to my knees, heart fluttering in my chest, and undo the front of his jeans. The hiss of the zipper seems far too loud in the quiet of the night.

“Owen,” I start, letting out an exhale. I look up at him from under thick, dark eyelashes. “You’re certain that this is okay?”

“Positive,” he says, running a hand through my curls. The wind has messed them up as the night went on, but the slight tangles he encounters don’t seem to deter Owen at all. Each little tug that laces over my scalp only has me more excited.

By the time I’ve got his jeans down and his cock pulled through the slit at the front of his boxers, my mouth is watering. Leaning forward, I drag my tongue over the head of his dick, bitter pre cum making me salivate that much more.

Lips wrap slowly around the flared head. I take my time, letting myself get accustomed to the weight of his shaft on my tongue, to the way that his girth makes my jaws strain and ache, just a little bit. Breathing out through my nose, I set a slow but steady pace, bobbing my head as I suck him off.

Hands curl against his hips, thumbs digging in hard as I use the grip to steady myself. The hard white stone beneath me is already starting to make my knees ache. There’s tension forming in my jaws and a wet spot forming in my panties.

“That’s it,” says Owen, tangling his hand more fully in my hair. “That’s a good girl. Fuck, you’re excellent, Tess. That tongue!”

The compliment makes me smile around the shaft in my mouth, but only for a moment. Then his palm goes flat against the back of my head, applying pressure. On a long exhale, I take more of his cock into my mouth, until the head of it bumps against the back of my throat.

My body jerks reflexively, but Owen’s grip is unyielding and there’s nowhere for me to go, no way for me to pull off him.

“There we go,” he says. “Just like that, honey. Fuck, your mouth is a God send. And the look on your face right now, holyshit.”

Owen grunts and pushes against my head a little more firmly. Even though my eyes are watering, and my face is red, I let him. And I love it.

The way that he guides me over his cock, that he shows me exactly how to pleasure him. The weight of his shaft sliding over my mouth, spit welling up with nowhere to go. Every time the head of his cock bumps against the back of my throat, it sends me into that same instinctive reaction; the gag and jerk, tears running down my cheeks even though I’m so wet that I’m itching to take a cock.

And then he’s pushing forward, into my throat, and the stretch of it is obscene. The way that it chokes me, the feeling of his girth stretching out thin skin, blocking my air. My gag reflex kicks in and by the time that he pulls me off his cock, I’m sputtering and gasping.

Owen drops down to the ground, pushing me onto my back. I wrap my arms around his neck, still trying to catch my breath. Fingers catch on the top of my panties and pull them down, just enough that he can get his cock lined up with my desperate, wet entrance.

By the time he pushes into me, I don’t care that we’re outside. I don’t care that the fire is almost dyed out, the shadows overtaking the once warm flickering light. The only thing that I care about is the way that his cock feels inside of me, and the rough scrape of stone on my shoulder.

My world condenses down until Owen is the only thing that exists. Each thrust upward feels as if it’s back up in my throat, my head tilted back and my mouth hanging open. Owen braces one hand on the stones next to my head and uses the other to catch hold of one of my thighs and push it up.

The slight shift in angle is enough to have him knocking against that sensitive spot inside of me, again and again.

Pleasure builds hot and fast, like a fire spreading through a dry field, until the orgasm overtakes me; bright lights flash through the darkness, my nails scraping over his back, over the fine dress shirt that he’s still wearing.

There’s a part of me that’s furious he’s still wearing all his clothes, but I also find it stupidly hot; it makes me feel smaller than him, daintier. Like I’ve lost all my protective layers and he still has his.

The overstimulation sets in fast, but that doesn’t stop Owen from chasing after his release. I moan, hooking my legs around his waist, “That’s it. Come on, finish in me,please.”

Owen crashes our mouths together. His teeth knock against my lower lip with such force, it splits. There’s a tang of copper in my mouth just as the heat of his cum floods through me.

My back arches, my body reaching toward him, and he kisses me again and again and again until I’m dizzy. But it’s the kind of dizziness that I never want to lose. The kind of head-spinning sensation that leaves me desperate for more.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Owen

Tessspendsthenight.

In a surprising twist of fate, I’m up before she is. The winery is closed today, same as it is every Sunday, so I take my time in the shower before heading out to put on a pot of coffee. Tess gets up while it’s brewing, and I can hear her talking to one of the dogs in the back room.

Tipsy wags his tail where he’s stretched out on the floor in front of the couch.

“Don’t act like you didn’t sleep up here last night,” I tell him, stepping over the big white form so I can droop onto the couch. The remote is snatched up, the TV coming on with a flash. It only takes a few moments before I have my preferred local news channel on.

It actually already has a section about the upcoming contest.

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