Page 47 of To Save Him

I heard him snicker.  “It’s dark right now, Kim.  I don’t care.”

Did he not care because he couldn’t see it or because…?  “But—”  I shut my mouth, biting down on my lip as his finger slid down and found my throbbing clit, effectively cutting off all rational thought.  Holy shit.  That hadn’t taken long at all and I was already close.  My muscles tightened as he ran a hand along the inside of my left thigh, his body in between my legs.  Once he’d settled in, he laid both hands on either side of my pussy, resting on my thighs, but then he ran his thumbs up my slit, spreading my labia apart.

And then… The Tongue.

“Oh, God.”  Was I actually as loud as I sounded to my ears?  I was ready to start writhing in pleasure already and he’d barely started.  Yes, I was wet, and I was on the verge.

But it wasn’t long before he’d reached maximum speed and it felt like I was being pummeled.  It didn’t hurt or anything, but it made me feel almost numb and I definitely wasn’t climbing anymore.  I knew I could credit his eagerness for that and I wasn’t going to complain, but I thought maybe I could give him a suggestion.  “Slow down, Brandon.”  My voice was quiet, breathless.

He stopped.  “Slower?”

“Yeah.”

One slow stroke.  Then another.  “How’s that?”

“Oh, my God.  Amazing.”  He was a fast learner.  He slowed his pace and I sucked down a deep breath.  I wasn’t going to last long, in spite of the fact that I’d just had an orgasm recently for the first time in ages.  I could feel each stroke of his tongue—maddening, delicious.

My muscles tightened.  Part of me wanted to wrap a leg around his neck and back area but when I came, I’d risk choking the shit out of him.  I only knew that based on past experience.  But I’d have to fight him to get there anyway.  He had my thighs pinned to the bed with his forearms and it was in that moment that I could sense just how strong Brandon really was.  I’d seen his muscles, knew he’d been in the services, but it hadn’t really dawned on me till then.

Jesus.  Thinking about him in the military led me to thinking about my son, making my desire go poof.  Why the hell did my thoughts like to sabotage what little pleasure I could glean from life?

As if he could sense my thoughts, he slowed his strokes even more, making my brain pause in expectation.  He also trailed one hand up my belly until he could cup my breast, and his touch was teasing and light, pulling me back into the moment.

And I vowed to focus solely on what he was doing.  The worry, the guilt, the remorse, all my bullshit…it could wait five goddamned minutes.

Five minutes while I tried to let it all go.

Fortunately, that boy was persistent and he took direction well.  My breathing changed—deeper and a little faster—and I shifted my pelvis ever so slightly, changing the way his tongue hit me, and that was all it took.  My thighs began to shudder and I felt that taut, tingly feeling in my nether regions that shot a euphoric rush to my brain.

And my mouth announced it.

There was no stopping the utterances from my tongue, but it was all a series of guttural noises, something primitive and subconscious telling my partner that he was an amazing lover.

Yeah…beyond belief.

As my cries subsided, Brandon sucked on the flesh of my inner thigh and then began kissing up my leg, highlighting my sensitivity as my skin pebbled with goosebumps.  He acted like he was going to cuddle me, as if last night was all he could have, but I said, “I want you inside me.  We’re not done yet.”

It was then that I’d wished it wasn’t so dark in the room.

It felt like it was early morning, almost time for me to rise anyway, but I couldn’t be sure.  I only hoped my alarm wouldn’t sound in the middle of our activity.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”  Again, I should have thought about a condom, but I also knew I’d been premenopausal over the past several months.  I’d have to be smart about things in the near future, but I just didn’t give a shit at the moment.

Fortunately, he was aroused and hard, ready to go.  It had been so long since I’d been with a man, the last experiences I remembered involved a guy not so quick on the draw.  I knew that was thanks to age, so I was going to enjoy it while I could.

Something I’d forgotten about myself was how easily my body could slide right back into climax mode with more stimulation.  My body was already primed, sensitive to touch, and ready to rock down below, so in less than a minute, I had built back up to another orgasm, and my legs clenched around his hips as I moaned and ground my pelvis into him.  I could feel his lips on my collarbone, but my brain wasn’t there.  I was somewhere off in outer space, euphoric and content to stay there for the rest of my days.

But orgasms don’t last forever, and eventually mine dwindled down, leaving me feeling spent but content.  I knew sex with a rag doll—whether or not she had a smile on her face (not that my face could be seen in the dark)—wasn’t exciting, so I knew I couldn’t rest and abandon him.  I crashed my lips into his, stabbing my fingers into his hair and grabbing on with one hand, while my other hand squeezed an ass cheek.

At first, I was loving it.  This young guy had stamina, and I imagined days and weeks of hot lovemaking, never to be interrupted by overexcitement or anything of the kind.  He’d be able to keep up with me, no problem.  But, after a while, it was apparent to me that something was going on.

Or, rather, itwasn’t.

I began feeling even more tired, and I decided to say something.  “Everything okay, Brandon?”

“Yeah, I just…it’s not happening.”

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