Page 46 of To Save Him

I bit my lower lip, grinning, and he kissed me again, but this time I wasn’t mashed up against the shower wall.  I slid my hands back around to his front, the bar of soap still in my left fist, and I trailed down.  I grasped his cock in my right hand and felt around for the soap dish with my other so I could drop the damn slippery thing.  He let out a rush of warm air from his mouth, signaling to me that my hand felt good.

Well, imagine what I could do with two.

I took my time, languishing an unhurried yet steady back-and-forth motion over his shaft, and I could tell by the way his kiss slowed that his attention was focused there.  My other hand?  I couldn’t quite decide what I wanted to do with it, so I played.  First with one of his nipples and then all over his back before cupping his ass again.

But I knew what I wanted to do.  I just had to make sure all the soap was rinsed off first.

The stream of water had been pretty steady, especially since we’d wound up back under the water again, and I knew most if not all of the suds had been rinsed down the drain.  So when the next kiss ended, I trailed my lips down his chin, then his neck, varying the touch with slight pecks followed by tongue and nipping, anything I could think of to keep him on his toes.

And then I dropped to my knees.  I felt fortunate that Brandon wasn’t too large.  In my estimation, large penises were overrated.  Yes, I’d tittered with my young friends as a teen before I married about wanting to feel my man’s length and girth in my chest, but—in reality—too big was too big.  Period.  When I felt stretched out beyond capacity, I lost all sensation.  I didn’t mind a little pain mixed with pleasure, but I needed to actuallyfeelsomething.  Add in a massive cock to a blowjob…and it became a lick job instead.  My throat could only take so much.  I’d never been one of those girls who could unhinge her jaw or completely turn off the gag reflex…so I much preferred a guy whose dick I could handle—one I could hold in both hands, one that would fit in my mouth and pussy without ramming out the back of my head or out my ass.  Let the girls who liked ‘em big scope out those bulls.  I was happy with above average.

And Brandon fit the bill.

He had nothing to be ashamed of but I’d be able to breathe—and not gag—while taking him in.  He was a treat.

I eased him in slowly and still found myself feeling all those lingering doubts.  I had to remind myself that Brandon was an adult—most definitely of an age where he could consent—but, for some reason, I continued to struggle.  Over the splatter of the water hitting our bodies, the tub, and the shower curtain, I heard him make a small noise of approval and tried to push the dumb thoughts out of my mind.  When I heard him whisper, “Oh, shit,” and run his hand along the back of my head, I fully committed.

I’d never felt like I was very good at oral sex, probably because Mel always had some kind of complaint about the way I would do things.  If I didn’t swallow, he would be offended.  That kind of attitude just made me less inclined to want to do it at all.  He couldn’t be happy that I’d had his dick in my mouth—he wanted the byproduct of my affections swimming in my gut as well.  Or he’d ask me to use my teeth “a little” and then complain that I hadn’t done it enough or had done it too much.  Or he’d watch a porn video online and want me to try to duplicate what some stupid big-mouthed girl had done. It’s just a movie!I’d say.

Yeah…justa movie.

So Mel had taken all the fun out of oral sex long ago.  Brandon’s response was reigniting that sense of adventure, though, and I could sense the way his breathing was changing as I began sucking harder.  Oh, this was so easy.

And guess what, Mel?  Ididswallow.

 

* * *

 

OVER THE YEARS, I had learned to take pleasure in the little things…a warm sweet cup of coffee, a beautifully crafted guitar solo, the dulcet fragrance of a lilac bush, the feel of a fleece blanket up against freshly shaved legs.

But I’d forgotten just how amazing the gift of a powerful, overwhelming orgasm could be.

After our shower the night before, I could tell that the day’s activities had worn both Brandon and me out, and as much as I thought we both wanted to go all night long (just like the song had suggested), I told him we needed to get some sleep.

“But—”

I’d shut him up with a kiss and told him I wanted to be cuddled.

I hadn’t known at that moment just how much I had missed snuggling up close to someone.  I’d just said it to shut him up, but when he wrapped his warm naked body around mine, I melted.

And I fell asleep almost immediately.

I didn’t know what time it was when I awakened to feel Brandon’s lips on my neck, his fingers feathering one of my nipples.  I was still covered in the shroud of sleepiness but my entire body was tingling, alert, and waiting, already climbing toward the apex.  He began kissing down my back and I must have gasped or made a small noise, because he mumbled agood morningbefore gently pulling me toward him until my back was on the bed.

He didn’t stop the relentless attack with his lips, though, starting on my shoulder and moving down.  By the time he was kissing up the rise of my left breast, I wasn’t fully awake but my body was completely primed and aroused.

Ready for takeoff.

I felt an involuntary moan form in my throat as he let go of my nipple, his teeth grazing the rigid bumps, and he began kissing his way down my belly, sliding his body down the bed.  It had been years since I’d worried about scarring my kids, but I wondered if I’d remembered to lock my bedroom door.  Back in the days when my kids would come to my room in the middle of the night for various reasons, I’d be sure to lock the door when Mel and I had an intimate evening, but I couldn’t recall the last time that had happened.  I’d even forgotten the last time one of my children had come to my room, whether it was because they’d been sick or scared or unable to sleep.

Oh, shit.  As Brandon’s lips touched my belly, I said, “Stop.”  I still regularly shaved my legs and trimmed up a tad, but my lady garden hadn’t been professionally tended to in way too long.  I was horrified with the thought that he was considering going down on me in that state.

“Hmm?” he asked, moving more slowly…but still moving.

“I haven’t waxed or—”

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