Page 9 of Trapped with the Mountain Man

This felt way too good. In fact, it was a feeling I never wanted to end.

He was breathing so hard, I could hear it over the hum of the tanning bed. I wanted to open my eyes and see if he was touching himself. Would he want me to watch?

The image of him stroking his erection earlier flashed through my mind, and that was all it took to send me over the edge. As my first orgasm raced through my body, I knew this was something I’d want to do again and again and again. Only, I wanted it to be an experience I shared with a man—preferably the one in the room with me right now.

When finally my body went back to somewhat normal, I realized I had to open my eyes eventually. I had to face him. What if he thought less of me?

I’d been raised to believe boys thought less of girls who were easy. Looking back now, it was clearly a way my parents kept me from doing something I might regret later. But it had made thissituation harder because now I really did wonder if he saw me as loose. Absurd, considering I was a virgin.

“Come with me.”

My eyes popped open at his words, and that was when I remembered he was fully naked. And fully aroused. His hands were at his sides, though, as he headed out of the room. Had he watched me without touching himself? No, probably not.

The mental image of him masturbating while watching me heated me back up again. I’d just had an orgasm, so I didn’t think that was possible, but there was a slight throb between my legs, and I could tell with each step that I was getting wet again.

I found him in one of the tattoo rooms—the closest one to the tanning beds. He was behind the chair in that room, fiddling with something behind it. It was probably the worst seating in this entire building for sex, and there were plenty of seats and beds around here. But I had a feeling Clay knew exactly what he was doing.

“Does this seat adjust?”

I stood, naked, in the doorway, arms crossed over my chest and legs crossed in some strange show of modesty. But I couldn’t take my eyes off this guy, muscles flexing as he worked to move the seat until it was less reclined.

Finally, he stood and patted the back of the seat. “Sit.”

Normally, I didn’t like being ordered around, but this was a different situation. This time, the command went straight to my pussy.

I squeezed my legs a little tighter before uncrossing them and heading toward the chair. I kept my arms crossed, though, as I slid onto the chilly seat.

“Spread your legs for me,” Clay said, stepping to stand above me.

As I did that, he knelt between them. Warmth spread through my body in anticipation. The back of the seat wassurprisingly well cushioned, but it was chilly too. That was one of the reasons I didn’t want to uncross my arms. It gave me the illusion of warmth.

Clay didn’t go straight to my clit. Instead, he kissed his way up my thighs, stopping inches from my pussy. I closed my eyes and threw my head back as a shiver ran through me that had nothing to do with the room temperature.

He continued teasing, licking along my folds, then leaning back and sliding a finger inside me as I’d done to myself earlier. This time it felt even better, though. Especially when he slowly slid it over my clit as he withdrew.

I gasped, and he seemed to take that as my seal of approval. He continued to slide his finger over my clit and eventually, I uncrossed my arms and moved my fingers over my nipples as I’d done earlier. Around the areola, then over the beaded tip of each nipple, my hips moving in time with the movements of his finger.

When he stopped and withdrew his finger, a whimper escaped. I didn’t even know where it came from. It just slipped out like air from a balloon. But within seconds, I felt him move toward me again, the heat of his mouth near my most private part.

And then his tongue made contact with my clit, and I let out a cry. Luckily, he had a hand on the outside of each thigh, holding me in place, or my hips might have bucked.

“Don’t stop!” I gasped.

My body began rising toward orgasm again. He didn’t stop. He took me all the way, and this time, the orgasm was even more powerful. It raced through my entire body, threatening to never let up.

I was perfectly fine with that. I could stay in this moment the rest of my life and be happy.

When I was done, guilt filled me. Was I being really selfish? I’d had two orgasms and he’d had none.

But when he looked up at me, I saw a man who didn’t mind at all. In fact, he’d probably give me four more before he even asked for one.

But I wasn’t going to let that happen. It was his turn.

“Can you stand up?” I asked.

“Is that what you want me to do?”

I nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

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