Page 22 of Space Crush
I explained how, while I could see the messages and notifications of interest sent to my stepmother on the app, I never engaged. I’d just wanted to make sure that no one was harassing her or—God forbid—sending dick pics and that I knew where she was meeting her dates in case anything happened.
Kaley, Rose, and Trish seem to have their own rules.
In an effort to help my girlfriend’s mother, who—if my plans for this December work out accordingly—will soon be my mother-in-law, I pat Kaley’s spot on the bed. “Your mother had a great time with Citali at the trampoline park. I don’t think you’re giving her enough credit.”
As one of the few childless couples in our group of friends, Kaley and I have been spending a lot of time babysitting.
It helps ease my guilt over the whole dating scheme I started.
“That’s true.” Kaley continues to frown at the phone.
In a less altruistic effort, I pick up my own phone and tap on my go-to playlist.
The song I hope to dance to at our wedding plays from the surround sound I recently installed after discovering how much Kaley enjoys a song track for our bedroom activities.
Kaley lowers her phone when Frank Sinatra begins crooning, her look of consternation melting into one of seduction. “Frank, huh?”
I flip back the covers on her side, inviting her over. “The only other guy allowed in our bedroom.”
Laughing, Kaley walks—saunters—over, laying her phone screen down on her nightstand. “Is that right?”
“Yep.” I invoke our second relationship rule—if you need something, ask for it—pointing to the mattress between us. “Come here.”
Whether it be for clarification or reassurance, Kaley and I decided that clearly stating what we need when we need it is a key element to good communication. And having the other meet those needs, as Kaley does now by lifting a knee onto the edge of the mattress, helps ensure the other feels secure in our relationship.
And right now, Kaley meeting my needs also gives me a peek at the non-existent panties she’s wearing.
My tent pole lengthens as she crawls across the bed, the deep V of her neckline giving me a view of her swaying breasts.
Not stopping on her side, she continues until, swinging a leg over my lap, she settles over my straining boxer briefs.
Grabbing her around her rib cage, I hold her still, lest I shorten the time between now and my release. “I like your panties.” I rub my thumbs over the silk along the sides of her breasts, her nipples jutting out from behind the fabric.
Her smile is nothing less than wicked. “I thought you might.”
I slide my hands up, tossing her hair over her shoulders, revealing the tiny straps of her slip.
Trailing my fingers across her collarbone, I play with the thin, rolled fabric that’s nearly the color of her skin.
Apparently not pleased with taking things slowly, Kaley reaches below where the silk is bunched at her thigh, inching the waist of my boxer briefs down and releasing my erection, kissing me hard before I can object to her taking control.
Not that I would.
I love Kaley submissive, dominant, and anything in between. She makes me feel loved. Not alone. And I can only hope I’m doing the same for her in return.
She pumps me hard, up and down, twisting slightly at the top.
“Fuck.” I whisper the word against her mouth, feeling more than seeing the corners of her lips rise.
“That’s the idea.” Lifting on her knees, Kaley shifts forward, teasing the tip of my cock with her wet pussy.
In retaliation, I tweak her nipples—hard.
On a jerk, she impales herself, both of us groaning.
“So good.” Her breath is a hot caress on my ear.
I agree, nipping her neck with my teeth. “So fucking good.” Then, wrapping my hands around her silk-covered waist, I hold her in place while I rest my shoulders against the headboard so I can leverage my cock up the last inch, fully seating her.
