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Bailey had a body to rival that of the Greek gods. Young, firm, hard, the form of an athletic Adonis stood before me. His chest was lightly furred with a fine line of hair that ran down to a perfect cock. Not too large, not too small, with a soft curve upward.
“You next,” he whispered, reaching for my hoodie. As it moved over my head, I closed my eyes, wishing I’d turned the lights off. My eyes squeezed shut. His fingertips grazed my belly, moving down then up. “You’re so hairy.”
“And flabby,” I murmured.
He kissed me into silence. When the sweeping exploration of my mouth ended, he nipped at my lower lip then rubbed his cheek along mine like a love-sick cat.
“No more talking bad about yourself. I think you are super-sexy.”
I thought to snort at the comment but he went to his knees in front of me. Every disparaging thought rattling around inside my head turned to dust. He ran his fingers through the thick mat of hair on my chest. He licked at my navel then pressed his face into my tummy. Tremors of want coursed through me. When he tugged roughly on my zipper I moaned in need. “I bet you have a nice dick too.”
He freed mine fishing it out of my underwear. I waited on pins and needles. My cock was never going to get me into porno but Bailey’s eyes lit up as he studied it.
“Yep, beautiful dick. I’m going to lick it now. It that okay?” He grabbed me at the base, his grip firm. I coughed out something that might have been a word. Who knew. His pink tongue darted out to catch a drop of pre-cum. My balls tightened at the sight. It had been far too long, but I refused to have this end so quickly. As he tongued the slit I stared at the ceiling and tried to recall the Latin names for every flower in my shop.
Rosa. Lilium. Tulipa. Dianthus. Oh shit!
I bucked up onto my toes when he sucked me down his throat. He gagged but refused to pull back. He sucked hard, pulling me so close that I had to take a step in reverse to catch my breath. The back of my legs hit the bed. Bailey was up on his feet, his eyes glazed with want, his lips pink and slick. He captured my mouth then tumbled us into the bedding, his long powerful legs tangling with mine as our tongues met.
“I’m so close. If I come all over you before we get anywhere I’m sorry,” he panted as he wedged his thigh between my legs. His cock jabbed into my hip, leaving a wet streak on my skin.
“Same here,” I huffed, clasping at his back as we rutted against each other.
Neither of us wanted to break the contact we had. God knows I didn’t want to let go of him. He felt too damned good lying atop me. I dug my heels into the mattress for some purchase. He rolled his hips as he licked into my mouth. This was perfection. If we never did another thing other than hump each other I would die a happy man. I loved a hot frot session way more than I did anal sex.
“This is fucking hot,” he growled against my throat. “I love this. We need to do this more. Like way more...oh shit...Hadley.”
It was the sound of my name on that heated rasp of pleasure that did me in. My fingers bit into his round ass as I spewed ribbons of cum between us. His grunt of completion followed mine. We kissed and nibbled as we coated each other’s bellies.
“Mm, oh God that was so...hot. I need a better word,” he whispered a moment later, sliding to the side to ease his weight off me. My eyes drifted open as I fought for breath. “I liked that a lot. Did you? Was I okay? I didn’t crush you did I?”
A chuckle rumbled out of me. “‘Hot’ is a perfect word. I loved it. You were fantastic and no I’m not crushed.” I glanced his way and was struck nearly mute by the beauty of him lying beside me, cheeks pink, eyes sweet and concerned. His shy smile stole my breath. “We made a mess of ourselves.”
“Yeah.” He stole a kiss. I rolled to the side and pulled some wipes out of the container behind the light. Then I spied the flowers and plucked the small sprit of forget-me-nots out of the vase. He was on his back when I wiggled around to face him. I placed the wipes on his sticky belly then slid the delicate blue flower behind his ear. “What’s this?” He reached up to softly finger the buds.
“I hope it’s okay. I just saw them and...well, I wanted to see you wearing it. They symbolize remembrance. I hope you don’t forget this night you spent in a chilly flower shop getting scratched with rose thorns, being fed far too much minestrone soup, wading through snow, and killing troll queens.”
“Not a chance.” He plucked off a small shoot and slipped it behind my ear. “There. Now when I go on the road you won’t forget me either.”
The thought of him being here again made my heart sing.
“There is no chance of meeverforgetting you.”
And I never did. Even after twenty years of road trips, field trips with the kids, and anniversary trips where we made love in fields of blue and white forget-me-nots.
The End
