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We lay there for a while and even though it’s hot I don’t move an inch away from him. “Thank you,” he says after a while.
“Why are you thanking me?”
“For being with me, making my first time something special, making me feel special,” he says and I swoon a little.
“Then you’re welcome. It was really nice.”
“Nice?” he asks looking a little offended.
I shrug.
“First you say it’s un-terrible and now nice? A man could get a complex.”
I kiss his jaw. “Guess we’ll have to do it over and over so you can change my mind.”
He smiles and all of a sudden I don’t feel so sore anymore.
“I suppose I could give it another try,” he says rolling so he’s on top of me. I can feel he’s ready to go again but I’m still not sure. “Only if you’re ready.” My face must have shown some doubt.
“I might need a little recovery time, but I can do other things,” I say raising my eyebrows and pointing to my mouth.
He huffs out a breath and buries his head into my neck. “I’m not sure how I got so lucky. Whatever you want to do, I’m in, but I’ll be just as happy to hold you for the rest of the night.”
“Whatever I want?”
His head pops up and I laugh at his wild hair and eager look.
“I was a little disappointed about missing the ice cream part of our date,” I comment and he tickles my ribs. “What? All that activity made me hot and hungry.”
Owen pops all the way out of bed, pulling me with him and dragging me to the kitchen. He pours two large ice waters and then produces two pints of ice cream from the freezer.
“Your wish is my command, woman,” he says, bowing as he hands me the pint of peanut butter swirl and a spoon. He takes the cherry vanilla and plops down on one of the bar stools. When I go to sit next to him, he pulls me on his lap instead, hugging me to him and feeling me up.
“You are very handsy.” I laugh and take a bite of ice cream. He’s completely ignoring his pint as he continues to caress me all over. I’m not complaining, it feels amazing.
“It’s your fault with all of this soft skin and awesomeness,” he says gesturing his hand up and down my body. “I can’t help myself wanting to be close to you.”
I put my ice cream down next to his abandoned and now melting treat and turn to straddle him. It’s a testament to our athleticism that we haven’t fallen off of this stool. When I settle back in his lap, his hands land on my ass and he gives it a little squeeze. Unfortunately, I lean into him and put us off balance and we do end up on the floor of the kitchen. His look of surprise is funnier than us falling and I can hardly keep myself together.
“You think my bruised taint is funny?” he asks, indignant at my giggling which is now part wheezing.
While I’m losing it on the floor next to him, he reaches up to grab my abandoned peanut butter swirl, takes a giant spoonful and smooshes it into my face. I’m momentarily shocked as the glob slides down my face and then under my shirt in my cleavage. Then I remember this is his shirt and rub the cold blob into the shirt making a big ole mess.
I grab his ice cream while he’s distracted by my cleavage filled with dessert and dump it on his head. There was only a little left in the carton but the plop sound it makes on his sex hair is quite satisfying.
We both sit covered in ice cream like we’ve just had a food fight and I’ve never been so hot for another person in my life. I reach for him at the same time he reaches for me and we explode together in a desperate kiss. I can taste the cherry vanilla but it’s Owen that drives me to want to eat his face off.
My hands go to his hair, rubbing the ice cream into his scalp. He releases my mouth and we both laugh.
“If you wanted to eat ice cream off me you could have just asked,” I say dragging my sticky hands over his face, down his bare shoulders to land on his chest.
“Maybe I just wanted to shower together.”
I kiss him again and then stand, offering him my hand to help him up. He takes it and when he is half standing, he leans his shoulder down and lifts me up so I’m hanging over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Hey,” I shout, smacking his ass. Such a nice round butt he has.
We make it to my mom’s bathroom where the shower is large enough for the two of us. Owen steps in with his boxers still on and I follow in his shirt since it’s covered in ice cream. Can we appreciate how hot a wet pair of boxers look on a guy? The way the material clings to his ass. Chef’s kiss.
