Page 90 of Sully

“What on Earth are you doing?” I asked, coming back into the bedroom with a tray of breakfast foods and coffee to find Sully standing next to the bed with one leg up on the footboard, bending his upper body down toward the mattress.

“I don’t think this scene in our book is physically possible,” he declared, dragging a surprised choking sound out of me.

Right before I’d gotten up to go get us some food, he’d been reading aloud from one of the books that I’d brought. And let’s just say it was thin on the plot but heavy on the steam. There’d been a lot of uncomfortable shifting in my seat while he read scene after scene of the main characters and their acrobatic lovemaking.

I had to admit, my heart felt all gooey that he called it “our” book.

“Maybe it’s just a proportion thing,” he decided, looking at me. “Get over here.”

“I am not doing that,” I insisted, my smile spreading.

“Come on. For science,” he demanded, lifting the tray to set it on the dresser, then pulling me over to the bed.

“I don’t think this counts as science,” I told him as he picked up the book and started to scan the scene again.

“Sure it does. This author claims I can bend a woman’s body this way. It is our responsibility to test this theory. I thought so,” he said, nodding at the page, then tossing the book back on the bed.

His hands were on my hips then, turning me.

“I need you to stand on the bed. Now, granted, the book saysheadboardhere, but the footboard works roughly the same way,” he told me as I went ahead and stood on the bed.

“Okay,” I agreed, already smiling. Everything with Sully, I had found over the past week or so, was fun.

“Now, it says that her one foot is on the headboard.”

“Okay,” I agreed, sticking one of my feet on the footboard. “Now what?”

“Now, it says that the other foot is on the mattress.”

“Where else would it be?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder at him.

“Don’t get smart with me, young lady,” he said, landing a playful slap on my butt. “Now, it says she is looking at him while he’s going down on her. How does one do that from this position? Can you lean down and see me?”

“I mean, yeah?” I said, going ahead and hinging at the waist, looking between my legs at him. “But I’m pretty sure this isn’t what the author meant.”

“How else could she mean it?” he asked, unable to help himself but to trace the outline of my panties.

I’d gotten to a level of comfort around the clubhouse that I didn’t think was possible. I even left the bedroom in nothing but one of Sully’s long shirts and underwear. It was not something I ever would have done before. But I had to admit, I loved being seconds away from naked around Sully.

“Like this,” I said, flopping down onto the mattress. I lifted one of my legs and pushed it against the footboard. “One leg up, one down. And I can look down.”

“Yes, yes, you can,” he said, the intention already clear in his eyes.

I didn’t even get a minute to prepare.

Because he was right there between my thighs, yanking my panties to the side and running his tongue up my cleft toward my clit.

All thoughts flew out of my mind as he worked me with his tongue and his fingers until I was arching off the bed, until my thighs were shaking, and my little whimpers became needy moans.

Only then was he kneeling on the bed, watching me as he slid on protection, then yanked my hips up onto his lap, and surged inside me.

There was nothing then, save for the movements of our bodies, the way he knew when to push harder, faster, deeper, or when to pull back, when to work my clit, and when it was too sensitive.

Until the orgasm was soaring through me.

He came with me, leaving us both panting for breath and ravenous when we eventually broke apart to get to our cold breakfast.

“Two orgasms is a shitty way to start the morning,” Sully declared, making me almost snort my coffee through my nose.

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