Page 65 of Exit Strategy

The former was the only thing I had a shred of conflict over. As much as I loved getting head, and I doubted that there were any men who didn’t like it, I couldn’t imagine myself doing to her what he did. Maybe one day she might be interested, but that was a move she was going to have to make on her own. She might, if only because of how much I liked going down on her.

When I came, it seemed almost like an afterthought. Callie moaned softly, but her own rhythm stayed constant as I tensed and shuddered. She was almost insatiable. She managed another go of her own before lying tangled with me.

There was still no rush, and I stayed inside her until I had gone completely soft and slipped out. When I did, she made another soft sighing sound and kissed me again. I felt the mess we made start to run out of her and she giggled, of all things.

“Maybe a shower and you’ll be ready to go again?” She nipped playfully at my lips.

“Again?” I asked.

“Yes, again. I can’t get enough of you.” Her voice was like honey. “I’m used to being treated roughly, and you’re so gentle.”

* * *

We retreatedto the guest shower, a monster of river flagstones and a massive overhead rainfall showerhead. It quickly slicked her flaming red hair down against her body. There was something seductive about the way her hair ran over her shoulders, down her back, and even down her chest all but concealing her nipples. The hot water steamed the bathroom quickly, and the scent of fancy expensive soap was strong, but not entirely unpleasant.

She let me wash her hair. It was an odd feeling, massaging the shampoo through so much hair. I kept at the longest, a crew cut. Most of the time, I preferred a buzz cut. Several years in-country, where there were no casual barbers and something as simple as a hot shave was a pipe dream, I had long hair and a wild beard. I didn’t enjoy looking like a desert nomad or a Jesus Christ Superstar cosplayer. I liked being clean, neat.

God, she was so clean and neat, even with that goddess’s mane of fire-red hair.

I lost my breath when, as I was rinsing her hair, she took the soap and started giving me similar attention. What struck home was the way she cradled my cock in her hands, working up the soap until there was a thick lather. Her hands were small, but strong and confident. I thought after a half-orgasm on the floor and a full testicular evacuation inside her, that there was nothing left inside me.

In a few seconds, I was getting hard under her attention.

Fuck, that feltgood.

“I keep washing it, but it stays dirty,” Callie said, giving me the most devilish look I had seen on her delicate features.

“You’re…” I swallowed hard, “…inspiring.”

“I really liked when you let me get on top, earlier,” she said. I could feel myself stiffening at the thought, and how forward she was about it.

“I liked that too,” I said, shakily. She wasn’t pretending to use the soap on me and was just stroking me, over and over. I was hard again. I let out a rattling gasp. I hadn’t had feelings like this since I had been a dumbass teenager. Back then, I had been both an idiot and a beast. I could crank one out, see my girl at the time, give her a go, go back home, and crank out another.

“How did you work these knobs?” Callie asked, turning her back to me. She bent over to examine the gleaming chrome fixtures and pinned my increasingly urgent hard-on between my stomach and her milky-white ass.

I let out a groan as she shut the water off. She knew how to use the knobs; this was all show and tease. I knew it was, the way she rubbed her ass against me, my length caught between her cheeks. “Fuck,” I groaned.

“Still dirty, even after that very nice cleaning shower?” Callie asked, turning to face me again. There was fire in her eyes. There in the shower, she kneeled carefully and wrapped one hand around the base of my shaft and started stroking me, slowly. As she neared the end of the stroke, she would give a squeeze. I groaned each time. My God, how could I not?

“There it is,” she whispered, reaching up and giving my balls a shudder-inducing caress. “Yes, yes, there it is.” I felt the lightest flick on the tip of my tool. I looked down to watch as she stroked and squeezed me again. A drop of clear fluid welled up from the head of my cock and she flicked it with her tongue.

It was so petite, so pink, so quick.

She kissed the end of it and laughed.

“Funny?” I asked, one hand braced against the side of the shower. I was thankful for the artfully rough texture of the river stone.

“Yes,” she answered. Her lips were wrapped around just my head, and I could feel how hot she was, her tongue against me. “I think you like this, yes?”

“I do.” I let out a breath. “Oh fuck.”

She made a small giggling sound and put the head back in her mouth. I wasn’t sure what all was going on in down there, other than the fact that it felt incredible. How could she be good at this? How did his cruelty allow for this sort of affection from her?

“You’re too tense, relax,” Callie said, and she caressed my balls again. “What’s in your head?”

“That what you are doing feels really good,” I said.

“Are you thinking about what he did?” she asked, hitting the nail on the head. She was fucking sharp as they came. I nodded, slightly. “That was a chore, this is not.” She emphasized the point by running her tongue up and down my shaft. “This thing, this thing I like. It is nice to me and makes me have really special feelings.”

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