He hasn’t let me close to his wounds to determine their source. He either pins my hands above my head or positions me so my arms can’t get anywhere near the scars on his back, but I am still confident they are the scars of a burn victim.
Feeling remorseful, I raise my eyes to JR’s face before asking, “Can I wash you?” When he balks for the second time, I add, “I won’t go anywhere near your back. I promise.” I don’t know what’s more shocking, the need in my voice when I say, “I just want to pamper you” or my undeniable urge to nurture him.
I’ve heard of disinhibited disorders where someone becomes obsessed with their savor, but aren’t those neurological ailments meant to be one-sided?
If they are, that isn’t what neither JR nor I have. We’re both presenting obsessive traits, and it’s proven without doubt when the strokes of my bubble-coated hands over his chest and down his midsection represent more than a need to take care of him.
I want to protect and shelter him before removing the pain from his eyes. I also want to teach him the world isn’t as cruel as whatever he faced to scar his body the way it has, and I think I know the perfect way.
I can’t tell if JR’s grunt is in warning for me to be careful of my foot when I kneel in front of him or if he’s excited to see me kneeling before him. I go for the latter when the clear bead glistening on the tip of his cock doubles in size when I wrap my hand around his velvety shaft.
As JR gathers my drenched hair to the side so it won’t interrupt his view, I skate my tongue across the slit in his cock’s head. I moan when his delicious precum activates my taste buds better than the room service we shared earlier. He tastes delicious, and come hell or highwater, I’m not going to stop until I’ve sampled everything he’s willing to give me.
With his fingers tangled in my hair and our eyes locked, I circle my lips over his veiny shaft before sucking him down hard. His grunt is pure ecstasy. It rips through my body along with a surge of electricity, urging me to take him even deeper than I did yesterday afternoon.
My inner muscles clench when I take his rock-hard cock to the very back of my throat. His echoing growl when I gag adds to the wetness between my legs. He can’t hear my gags. He’s feeling them by gripping my throat in a pain-free yet extremely erotic manner.
His clutch augments the crazy sensation blistering through me. His hand is on my neck, the other is weaved through my hair, and his dick is in my mouth.
Could things possibly get any better?
I realize they can when JR feeds his cock into my mouth inch by inch. He takes it slow, stretching my throat in a way that’s somewhat painful yet still sexually gratifying. I love the way he adapts to his surroundings. Being deaf hasn’t disadvantaged him in the slightest. If anything, it’s made him more appreciative of his other senses, and he uses every one of them over the next several minutes.
He watches the lust burning through my eyes.
He smells it seeping out of me.
He feels the heat of our exchange roaring through my veins.
And a second after I swallow down the thick, salty squirts pumping from his cock several long sucks later, he tastes it as well.
I grip the showerhead with all my might when JR’s wish to devour my pussy sees him plucking me from the floor with so much force, before I can comprehend what’s happening, my legs curl around his shoulders and my pussy mashes with his face.
Curls of lust flicker through me when he buries his tongue deep inside me before he drags it up to my aching clit.
“Oh…” I push out with a moan when he hits the nervy bud with a stimulating mix of bites, licks, and sucks. He has me coming undone in a shameful amount of time, and I love every single minute of it.
His beard absorbs the aftermath of my blinding orgasm long before it can slick my thighs. He gobbles up every drop like he’s starved of taste before he brings me to climax again and again and again.
“Oh, god. I can’t. I’m…” Goddamn insane if I’m considering stopping this. We have to return to the real world soon. We’ve already stretched our stay from a day visit to an overnight adjournment. We can’t hide forever, and the realization has me grinding my pussy onto JR’s mouth instead of yanking away from him.
“Oh, god. Please. Fuck.” Swearing isn’t usually my go-to way to express myself, but when you can’t find a better word, you go with what works. This is ten years of sexual tension and buildup. It deserves more than a handful of moans and pleas to stop.
More than my heart stops beating when my eyes flutter shut. Sparks of lust aren’t the only thing blistering before my eyes. Faint memories of a time I’ve tried to forget race to the forefront of my mind as well.
They’re just as blistering and as explosive as the climax ripping through me, except they end with me landing in a swampy marshland with my savior’s painful howl piercing my ears a nanosecond before they’re silenced by the mud.
He got burned protecting me.
Hisbackgot burned protecting me.
When JR senses that I’m reeling from more than back-to-back orgasms, he lessens the severity of his licks before he eventually pulls back.
“It was you,” I murmur, suddenly knowledgeable as to why his eyes feel so familiar. “You were at the accident. You were the man I tried to save but couldn’t.”
He grunts before shaking his head, denying my claims.
He can deny them all he likes, but I know the truth.
