Page 84 of The Key Holder

Ford sat on the couch, while I started going through the contents of the box. First out was a pair of sleek, black shorts. They seemed eerily familiar.

“I have a pair like that,” Ford said.

“That’s where I’ve seen these before.” I remembered the ones, clinging to his powerful thighs. “Yours are blue, right?”

“Yup.”

There was a bright blue tank top, and a gray wrestling singlet. “Do you have a singlet? I’m thinking we might need to wrestle.”

Ford laughed. “I’ll have to buy one if you want to do that.”

“Or you could just be naked?” I suggested.

“Works for me.”

Next, my fingers brushed against something unbelievably small and flimsy – a black thong. My eyebrows shot up, a silent question in my gaze, and Ford just whistled. The last item in the package was a retro-looking burgundy jockstrap. It reminded me of the vintage porn I used to jerk off to in high school. “If you don’t have one of these”—I held up the jock—“I’m definitely going to need you to get one.”

When he didn’t answer, I glanced his way. He was leaning back, arms folded behind his head, watching me. "Well?" Ford said, gesturing to the clothes. "I’m ready for the show.”

One by one, I modeled all of them, but saved the thong for last. I had a feeling it was his favorite. Even though he had seen me naked many times, and I had just dressed and undressed in front of him, I felt a little self-conscious slipping on the thong. I hadn’t really worn one before.

“Damn.” Ford’s eyes devoured me, a hungry, possessive look in them that mirrored my own rapidly intensifying desire. “You look incredible in all of them. How’s that one feel?”

I slid my hands down my torso and around my hips to cup my ass. “Very nice.”

“Come over here.” He motioned, then stood up. The moment I was close enough to him, his hands found my waist, strong and firm, and pulled me against him. I could feel his already hard cock between us.

He leaned down to kiss me, snaking one hand behind my neck and the other down to my ass. Mine were already busy unbuttoning his shorts. Breaking the kiss for a second, he pulled his shirt off in one fluid motion as my efforts were rewarded with his shorts dropping to the floor. Together we made short work of the jock he was wearing, but through it all, I kept the thong on. Its barely there fabric was like a tease against my ass.

Ford spun me around and gently pushed me forward until I was bent over the arm of the couch. His fingers found the string of the thong nestled between my cheeks and tugged it to the side, exposing me. As Ford’s strong hands spread my ass, his hot breath ghosted my hole. A second later, I felt the slow, teasing stroke of his tongue, circling, pressing, making me curl my toes. He worked at it, loosening me up in the best way with his insistent exploration. Without thinking, I pushed back into his face.

“You ready for my cock, boy?” Ford asked.

My body shuddered, thinking of what was to come. “Yes, sir.”

I heard him spit, then his fingers were where his tongue had been, opening me up. In and out.

“Just fuck me already.”

“You’re an eager little sl—shit. I’m sorry.”

I knew what he was going to say…and it didn’t bother me anymore. “It’s okay, Ford. I’m your slut now.”

He looked concerned. “You sure?”

“I really want your cock inside of me. Like, all the time. I think, by definition, I am a complete and total slut for you.” He still didn’t seem convinced. “I’m good. I’m owning my desires. Now stand up and put those muscles to work.” I turned back around and arched my back, then added, “Please.”

And then without another word, he was there, plunging into me with a deep, satisfying grunt. My cry was muffled against the couch cushion as he filled me completely. My ass clenched around him, stretched to its limit, as his immense cock made me swoon, over and over. After repeatedly being rubbed against the smooth fabric below, my own dick was coming back to life with every powerful thrust.

Ford’s hand found my hardening cock. "Damn, you're ready for more already," he said. "I wish I still had that kind of refractory period." He pulled out almost completely, until just the tip was inside me, then drove back in with a Tarzan-like ferocity.

“I’ll never get enough of this,” I said, losing myself in the moment.

The sounds of his body slapping against mine, my breathless moans, and his grunts filled the cabin. The world outside didn’t matter anymore, just the rhythm of our bodies.

Knock knock knock.

We froze, panting, eyes wide as saucers. The spell was broken.