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Instead, my hands finally went to my own clothes, slowly baring myself to her. But I paid little mind to my own body, my whole brain caught up with how she looked spread out on my bed. Pale skin practically glowed against my grey sheets and her hair spread across the comforter like some sort of renaissance painting. She was a temple, a sanctuary, and I was more than ready to worship.
Beverly
Being made fun of for my weight my entire life had allowed me to build up quite the thick skin. I knew that I had a pretty face and that a section of the population liked my curves, so that allowed me to ignore most of the rancor that wanted me to hate myself. That confidence that I wasn’t a complete piece of shit just for being plus sized was part of what made my second foster mother not work out. She was borderline obsessed with my weight and tried diet after diet, which I never followed.
But splayed out on Mr. Fitzgerald’s insanely comfortable mattress made me that much more acutely aware of my body and how much bigger it was than average.
He was looking at me like he wanted to devour me, and I couldn’t help but shiver again. I had never been naked in this kind of context in front of another person and it was something else entirely. I felt my stomach clenching up like it had during my road test, and during my finals, and even during a lot of my interviews.
Yet even with all that fear, I didn’t want to stop. I was so intensely turned on and keyed up that I felt I might explode if I didn’t find out exactly what all of my friends had gone on and on about in college.
Thankfully I was distracted by some of my nerves by the strip show at the end of the bed. I wanted nothing more than to sit up and peel his clothes from him myself, but Mr. Fitzgerald seemed content with me being some sort of pillow princess.
I watched as bit of bit of his tan, muscled skin was revealed to me. His shoulders were rippling with muscle as he removed his button up, and then his undershirt. When his hands went to his pants, I thought I might just combust there on the spot, but I managed to keep it together as more and more of him was revealed to me.
God, he was ripped. Shredded to absolutely high heaven and I was once again struck with why someone like him would want to sleep with someone like me. But then his fingers were at the waistband of his boxer briefs and he was pulling them down his thick, muscled legs.
Oh.
Oh shit.
His manhood was standing quite erect, it’s swollen, red head already glistening with moisture. It looked like the thing was straining against itself and I couldn’t believe that just seeing me laid across his bed had made him like that.
He knelt on the bed again with one knee, his length bobbing like a threat or a promise I couldn’t tell, but then his other knee was on the bed and he was settling over me.
I didn’t know what I expected, maybe for him to just shove it in and call it a day, but instead he just kissed me warmly, adoringly. The press of his lips to mine were so sweet that it was easy to forget that I was just his employee, and this was definitely a one-night stand.
As his mouth kissed me senseless, his hands were on the move. They ghosted over my sides, barely touching but just enough to leave goosebumps in their wake. He kept going until he reached my hips, where he massaged my love handles gently.
“God, you’re so soft,” he breathed into my mouth like a prayer.
And maybe it kind of was, because the way he was treating me certainly made me feel holy.
He shifted slightly and for a moment I didn’t know what he was doing, but then one of his hands slowly slid up my soft stomach, over my protected ribs, until it was gently encompassing one of my breasts.
My breath hitched again, and I instinctively pushed up into his palm, feeling shocks of pleasure shoot down my spine. Holy hell, it never felt that great when I touched my own boobs, why did his caress make me feel like I was having a heart attack?
I didn’t know, and I didn’t get an answer before two of his fingers took my nipple between them and gently squeezed.
“Fuck!”
I hadn’t meant to swear, but how could I not? The lightning bolt of pure pleasure that shot through me was like a freaking bomb and it was becoming even harder to breathe.
“You like that?” Mr. Fitzgerald murmured against the side of my face as he kissed a path to my ear.
