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“Turn around, Mr. Bronson,” I tell him, sliding my huffing lips over his. “And put your hands on the wall.”
His smirk is poison, and I’m willing to die. And when he turns around slowly and aims that cut ass and that wide, tapered, muscular back at me?
RIP my pussy.
Bury me with this sight.
My tombstone will read, “Died happily for Beau’s big dick.”
“Am I under arrest?” he taunts over his shoulder, pressing his huge hands against the white tile. “Are you going to frisk me, Officer Orgasm? Did you bring your pink handcuffs, too?”
“No.” I step out of the shower, careful not to slip on the floor as I reach for my bag. Grabbing the toy, its remote, and the special lube I brought for him, I catch my smile in the mirror above the vanity and grab a rolled towel, too.
Stalking my way back to him, I wish I could take another picture, but the memory will serve. It’ll torture me, too, but I don’t focus on that. I just focus on how damn sexy he looks like that, trusting me and sorta not as he keeps glancing over his shoulder to see what I’m hiding behind my back.
“Quit peeking,” I tell him. “Or I’ll get the blindfold for you, too.”
“Hell, no,” he insists. “I’m going to watch whatever kink you have planned for me.”
When I’m close enough to start kissing his wet back, he slowly exhales. Droplets stream over my lips, gently caressing his dripping flesh until his hard muscles softly relax to my touch, and that kills my pounding heart.
He really does trust me, and that really fucks with my head.
“I’m not going tofriskyou, Beau.” I lick his spine, teasing him, thrilling him. “I’m going tofuckyou while youfuckme too.”
“Fuck,” he mutters with awe. “How?”
“Just trust me, and don’t move your hands.” I glide my palm over his firm ass cheek, my hand relishing the carve of his glute muscles. “I’m going to own your ass, Beau Bronson.”
I love using the same words against him while I slowly kiss down his back, lowering until I’m kneeling, using the towel as a cushion for my knees while I set the secret items down.
When I gently bite his butt cheek, he groans. When I linger my tongue up his tight crack, he growls, “Fuck, Blair.”
Massaging his flexing glutes, I tease, “Are you going to fight me, Beau? Or will you let me give you your fantasy,too?”
“Fuck,” he mutters again, but he doesn’t answer me, so I insist.
“Spread your legs for me.”
He steps them farther apart, the gesture giving his consent. It’s so intoxicating I get lightheaded. It’s so erotic, me spreading his cheeks open. It’s so hot when I lick his puckered hole. Like it’s the first time he’s ever felt this pleasure, it makes him suddenly hiss with lust. And I don’t stop. I lick and lave and gently dart, flicking my tongue over his ass, driving him crazy.
“Goddamn,” he huffs. His body opens for me, revealing his desire. He slightly squats, barely arching his back to give me access, and I take it. I won’t stop tonguing his asshole while I reach under and between his legs to wrap my hand around his rigid shaft. And when I start stroking him too, “Fuck, Blair, fuck!” his shout echoes off the marble.
How can something be so taboo and beautiful at the same time? I don’t know, but it is. His moans don’t stop; his cock swells so thick in my stroking grasp.
When I stop, removing my mouth and hand for the next part because he’s more than ready for this, he mutters, “What are you doing to me?”
“What you secretly want, and I’m going to give you.” I coat my fingers with the anal lube, and I love this. I love giving Beau pleasure he’s too ashamed to ask for, but not with me. He deserves this, at least once. And when I ring my slick finger over his tight hole, gently pressing in, I make sure of it. “Tell me what you want, Beau.”
“Fuck,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to the tile. “I can’t. I shouldn’t?—”
“Yes, you should,” I interrupt him, my fingertip coaxing him too. “You should feel what you desire with no shame, Beau. Not with me, okay? I think it’s hot. I think it’s beautiful.It gets me off like you got off giving me my fantasy, too. So say it. Say what you want.”
Silence fills the air, along with the soft patter of water raining over the floors. It’s falling over my back, the steam surrounding us, too. It’s a real, raw moment, and I’ll wait for hours until Beau lets himself feel this. When I gently kiss his firm cheek again, he finally sighs, “Fuck my ass.”
Gently, I do. I slowly press my slick finger inside him, stroking his cock at the same time. His deep moans reverberate off the tile, so I urge another finger inside him, and his primal grunt makes me even wetter.
“God, Blair,” he growls. “Fuck, baby, that feels good.”
