Page 33 of Midlife Crisis

“I freaking love your hands on me,” he mutters against my lips.

“I love touching you,” I whisper, knowing it’s offering a bit too much, but it’s true. My hands love to touch his skin, cover his tattoos, and feel the warmth of him. “But I owe you dinner.”

I need to cool things down, or I’m stripping him and taking him on this couch.

“Yeah, about that.”

“It sucked.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t use words like that with me, little lady.” He kisses my neck, peppering up to my jaw.

“Why not?” I chuckle, his kisses vibrating under my chin.

“Because sucking is something I’m hungry for.” Instant. Wetness. My hips buck of their own accord, grinding against the hard length of him straining his jeans. He pulls back to kneel between my knees and drags me to sit. Reaching for the hem of my shirt, he tugs it over my head. Then he reaches for the back of his collar and removes his. Is there any move sexier on a man? I could watch him do it again and again, but I’m sidetracked when he sits back.

“Trade places with me, Middy.” I swing my legs, and he repositions himself, then pats his lap. For the briefest of seconds, my eyes flip to the picture window behind him.

“Worried about the neighbors? Hit the lights, little lady.” He’s mocking me somehow, but I do as he says. I flick off the table lamp, slipping the room into darkness minus the dull streetlight outside. I want to pull the curtains, but he’s watching me, daring me to leave them open. Can my neighbors really see me?

“Take off your jeans.” The command stings like a tickling smack. My sex clenches, and I do as he tells me. His lids lower, narrowing as he takes me in. I’m awkward with the skinny jeans at my ankles, and I’m not certain I like this game. Is he teasing me? Finally free of my clothing, I stand, take a deep breath, and stare down at him.

“You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen, lady.” His voice rings serious, surprised, as if he hadn’t noticed before and means every word. “Come here.” He pats his lap again, and I straddle him.

Cupping his head like I did moments ago, I lean forward and kiss him, only this isn’t the tender kisses of our greeting or the time for discovery Hank usually gives me. This is a race, mouths galloping over one another, speeding forward, pushing, pressing, yearning to cross the line. He’s jostling his belt under me, but my mouth won’t release his. He’s moaning into my throat, spurring me onward until I feel the soft cotton of his boxer briefs under the dampness of my underwear. I release his lips on a moan of pure pleasure, feeling the hard length of him under me. My hips roll, and I grip his shoulders, anchoring myself to him as I ride the tide of growing friction.

“Gonna come, baby?” I can’t answer him; the tension feels so good, the building wave catching my breath. “Fuck yeah, lady, take what you need.”

I don’t want to be selfish. I don’t want to be like that woman he loved who didn’t love him back. The thought stops me, and I slip from his lap.

“Middy, baby.” His voice drops as I lower to my knees between his legs.

“You said you wanted sucking.” I tug at his briefs, freeing the head and slipping him into my hungry mouth before fully undressing him. He bucks up, filling me, moving his underwear over his hips so I have clear access to all of him.

“Fuck, lady, that feels so good. Your mouth is heaven.” I’ve never heard that before, so I suck harder, lapping over the ridges until I swerve to the tip. I lick over the seeping seam and then slam over the full length again. “Fuck,” he strains as his hands curl under my arms.

“Forget sucking, I want to—” He stops himself, his eyes meeting mine. The lingering word startles me but thrills me. The building tide races through my lower belly, growing like a storm. I’ve never been this wild or had someone speak to me this way. Silently shocked, I’m more than excited he almost used it on me. I stand to remove my underwear, sliding it slowly to my ankles as he watches me. I unclasp my bra and slip it down my arms, letting it drop to the floor.

“You want to fuck me?” I whisper, the question choppy and quiet, but I’m emboldened by his eyes roaming my naked body. Just asking makes me vulnerable, but his response restores my ego. Reaching forward, he grips my hips, lowering his face to the hair at the apex of my thighs and inhales.

“So ready for this.” He exhales warm air over me and reaches for his jeans. A foil square appears, and I internally knock my head, knowing I forgot once again. Condoms just aren’t something I’ve had to think about. When Paul got a vasectomy to ensure no more pregnancies, protection was no longer a thought. I watch him cover himself, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve seen next to him removing his shirt. He is one sexy beast of a man.

I straddle him again. The aroma of sex surrounds us both. He holds himself upright, and I balance on the tip of him.

“Give it to me, little lady,” he commands in a strained voice, and I lower myself, taking my time to swallow him into me. I’m holding the back of the couch behind him to steady myself. I’ve hardly touched down, but he snaps, “Up.” Hoisting my hips, he lifts me, teasing me as he halts me from falling over him again. My head lolls forward, and I see he’s watching us, observing where I rest over him. With unexpected force, he tugs me downward, and I yelp. He’s hit something deep inside me, and my eyes water with the pleasuring sting. “Okay, baby?”

“More,” I whisper, taking freedom with him that I haven’t taken before. He drags me to the tip and then slams me over him once again. I grunt, but he repeats the motion, picking up the pace. My body becomes his plaything, and I let him toy with me because it feels so fucking good.

“Squeeze your breasts. Bring one to my mouth.” Shocked by the request, I release the couch, worried I’ll lose my balance but I’m too much under Hank’s spell to care. I press my heavy globes together, then lean forward and watch as he latches onto me, sucking one breast deep into the cavern of his mouth. His tongue tickles over my nipple so hard the nub hurts, then his warm lapping soothes the pain. I’m bouncing like a ragdoll, sliding up and down his dick, jostling one breast next to his cheek as the other fills his mouth. I’m grunting, groaning, and moaning, feeling the newly familiar wave cresting.

Hank releases my breast. “Now that’s the sucking I mean, lady.” He kisses my other breast, trying not to lose the steady, rapid rhythm of me jiggling over him. “You’re almost there, aren’t you?”

“How can you...?” know such a thing, I think, after only two times, but he drags me down, forcing himself so deep in this new position, and I crash, feeling him pulse inside me. I clench harder than I ever have, clamping around him as he pumps inside me. I scream his name. My nails dig into his shoulders, and my eyes close. I don’t care if the whole neighborhood just gave us a standing ovation. That was the deepest orgasm I’ve ever had.

“Your body tightens up when you’re ready,” he says, his head falling to rest on the back of my couch. He grips my hips, holding me over him. I feel an extra pulse of aftershocks from him, and then I have an issue. His eyes open, and he pulls me off him, setting me on his thighs only a centimeter away from his spent length.

He tilts his head. “Baby?”

“I…umm…” My sex clenches, pumping harder than my heart. The hand on my hip slips forward, his thumb finding the sensitive folds ripe for another round.