by Ophelia Bell
He moves to my other breast, and this time I keep my eyes open. First he sucks, and the act is mesmerizing to watch because he’s all-in with the process of making my nipple hard. His dark lashes lower and the cowlick that falls over his forehead curls down, brushing his eyebrow. He’s so beautiful it’s hard to care how comical it is that he’s still got a strange silicone sex toy attached to his dick.
After he attaches the second clamp, I can’t help but jut out my chest. The sensation is electrifying, especially when I move and the chain dangles down, brushing my belly.
Sam steps back to admire his handiwork and grins. “Fuck, that’s sexy. You ready for the last one?”
“Yeah, are you?” I ask, my voice husky with need.
He chuckles and shakes his head. “I should set a timer. In fact I will, just to be on the safe side. You shouldn’t wear those more than thirty minutes. Same goes for me.”
He reaches behind me and produces my phone, which I completely forgot I left on the table after my surprise this morning. He sets the timer for twenty-five minutes, though I can’t imagine we’ll last that long as hot as this is.
Then he picks up the box and crouches in front of me, smiling as he pushes the sides of my robe open, then parts my thighs. His heated gaze falls to my pussy.
“Put your heels up and lean back a little,” he says, so I do, breathless now in anticipation of another new sensation.
“That better?” I ask, leaning back on my elbows and looking down past my clipped nipples to where I can only see his head and broad shoulders between my knees.
“You have no idea how tempting it is to just devour you right now. You’re so fucking wet.” With one hand he parts my outer labia and reveals my clit, swollen and aching. With his thumb and forefinger spreading me, he lifts one of the clamps, opens it, and carefully captures one side of my labia, then the other. The chain has a tiny round bauble that hangs from the center, and when he releases me, the ornament rests right against the underside of my clit.
I’m breathing hard and so is he, but he remains crouching at eye-level with my pussy. “That’s gorgeous.”
“I wish I’d waxed all this off before the trip,” I say, brushing my hand over the vee of dark curls that remain right at the apex.
“If you did, I’d angle to give you a tattoo there instead of where you asked for it.”
“Tell you what—you keep this up, I’ll let you when we get home.” I move to sit, and he lifts a hand and rests his palm against my belly.
“Not yet. I’ve got you where I want you now, may as well get comfortable.” He reaches over for one of the small pillows on a chair by the table. “For your head.”
“What are you doing now?” I ask, taking the pillow and lying back onto it with my knees still spread and my pussy on display.
“Hopefully blowing your mind.”
He holds up the lube and flips the top, then turns it over, drizzling it directly onto my clit. The cold, viscous fluid is a shock and I gasp, clenching involuntarily. The movement of my muscles starts a domino effect of sensation through my body, and I quiver and moan, but just as it passes, Sam slides the tip of his finger through the whole mess, teasing my clit, pressing the bauble against it, then grazing down my channel to stop at my rear opening.
He pushes in slowly and I relax into the sensation, arching my back and sighing at all the points of pleasure activating my erogenous zones.
“Hope you brought a condom,” he says. “Because I don’t know how long I can wait.”
“Pocket,” I manage to get out as he twists his finger in my ass to distribute the lube.
His hand brushes my naked hip when he fishes for the condom, then leans back, losing contact just long enough to hurriedly roll it down over his cock. Then he’s between my legs again, slicking lube over the dildo before positioning it at my rear entrance. His cock juts up at an angle, so once he gets the tip of the dildo past my tight ring, he pushes his cock down to notch himself at my opening.
“Feel good?” he asks.
“So good. Fuck me, Sam.”
With a groan, he slowly shifts his hips and both shafts glide into me. The rear one stings a tiny bit, but the pain feels good once he starts to move, then it’s nothing but pure sensation when he quickens his pace.
I keep my eyes fixed on him. He’s distracted, concentrating on being careful, and maybe a little on whatever new sensations he’s experiencing.
“How does it feel?”
He grunts and gasps. “Uh. Different. Good. My dick is so fucking sensitive. I feel like I could come any second, but I’m not.”
“Fuck me harder.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I don’t care if it hurts. I want to feel it for days.”
He braces his hands on the table, hovering over me as he begins to pivot his hips, slowly at first, then picking up the pace. He watches me intently, as if gauging my reaction. I reach for him and he comes down partway, meeting me when I raise my mouth to his and moan into it. His tongue sweeps deep and he returns the moan, pumping faster, both my ass and pussy alive with sensation.
I’m so close I can taste it, but I want to see, to watch him fucking me with this toy, so I prop myself up and look down. His cock stretches my folds wide, the tiny bauble bumping against my clit with each thrust.
“Let’s try this,” he says, breathless as he reaches between us and presses the side of the vibrator attached to the top of the cock ring. The tiny rabbit ears spring to life right against the top of my clit. The little silicone ears catch the chain between the two clamps, vibrating those too. I fall back with a cry, writhing and out of control, jacking my hips up harder against his every thrust.
That’s when I feel the tug. Sam yanks on the chain that crosses my chest, pulling the nipple clamps off with a jerk, then dropping his mouth to one nipple and flicking his tongue across the stiff flesh. He groans, slamming his hips against mine, every withdrawal giving me a reprieve from the vibrating torment of the rabbit. But each time he thrusts in, he grinds against me.
The blood rushing back into my nipples magnifies the sensation, and I’m flying. My body doesn’t know up from down; all I know is that this is the most intense sexual experience I’ve ever had.
“Toni. Oh fuck, you feel so good.” He stares down into my eyes, dropping to his elbows so my breasts brush his chest. Every shift of his body grazes my nipples and heightens the pleasure already sweeping me away.
My orgasm rocks me into pure oblivion, but in the midst of it, his kiss grounds me. I wrap my arms and legs around him when I feel his body shudder and his cock pulse inside me.
We remain locked together, mouths and hips merged, our bodies enduring constant tremors from the humming vibrator between us until our shared climax subsides what feels like an eternity later.
Slowly he lifts up onto his hands again, his arms shaking. With one hand he reaches between us and turns off the vibrator, then just stares down at me, eyes wide with wonder.
“Wow,” we both say in unison. Then we both laugh.
I sigh and rake my fingers through his hair, disrupting his wayward cowlick and making it stand on end. “You are something else, you know that?”
He smirks as he rises and carefully withdraws. I wince at the twinge of pain as the dildo leaves my ass, but once it’s gone, the soreness left behind is comforting.
Sam turns away, carefully removes the condom, and ties it off, then extracts his cock from the toy and sets it aside for the moment. I lie there in a daze until he bends down and gently unclips the jewelry from my labia. I’m so sensitive I gasp when bloodflow returns to the area.
“Pretty sure we’re expected to keep these once we’ve used them,” he says, carefully returning both silver strands to their respective boxes.
“I would hope so. That was an experience worth repeating.”
He reaches out a hand to me and I take it, letting him pull me up. He stares down at me intently. “It doesn’t have to be the only repeat-w
orthy experience we have. You want kink, I’ll deliver. I might just need time to study up on it.”
I give him a coy smile. “Oh yeah? This is a two-way street, you know. You’re a creative guy, so I’m sure you’ve got fantasies of your own. Next time, let’s do you.”
His gaze darkens and I can almost hear his gears turning, which gives me a small thrill. I tap his sweaty chest and say, “In the meantime, I’m going to take a swim to cool off.” Then I push past him and dart down the steps before diving straight into the pool.
He follows, and is already leaping into the water when I remember why neither of us should even go near the pool. I swim to the edge and climb out by the time he surfaces and he gives me a confused look.
“Thought we were swimming?”
“Not with a fresh tattoo we aren’t. Out.”
“Ah, shit. Well, it was a nice idea in theory.”
Just as we start to head back inside, my phone timer buzzes and Sam chuckles. “Guess we didn’t need to worry about overextending our playtime, did we?”
I usher him back upstairs to the shower where we soap each other down, both concluding that we’re pretty well sore and sated for the time being, even though Hugo shows mild interest in another round.
Sam disappears downstairs while I comb my hair. He returns a few minutes later, still naked, but this time carrying the plate with my entire birthday cake plus a single fork.
“Don’t tell me this is your fantasy,” I say, eyeing the cake.
“Only if you’re willing to let me feed it to you.”
38
Sam
Toni’s offer to fulfill a fantasy of mine confounds me, because every second I’m with her is already beyond my wildest dreams. So I just let that idea simmer while we enjoy each other’s company.
We lie in bed naked, and she lets me feed her cake one bite at a time. Eventually she insists it’s my turn and wrests the fork from my hand to feed me the delicious lemon poppyseed confection until my jaw aches from the sweetness.
“This thing looks like a wedding cake,” she says, plucking at the bloom still decorating the remaining half. Several other roses have fallen to the side and are now half-coated in icing and crumbs. The sheets between us bear the remnants of a few failed bites, and I brush the crumbs away.
“Did you ever spend time dreaming about a wedding? I knew girls in high school who were crazy about wedding planning.” My ex was one of those girls. She had an entire binder filled with magazine clippings and wedding website printouts.
“No. I wasn’t exactly the unicorns and rainbows kind of girl growing up. Neither was Celeste. She was too serious about school and doing everything to please Papá Flores, then it was all about dancing until your brother left town. That’s when her rebellious phase started, and she and I were in sync more than ever. Neither of us had any interest in weddings. It just didn’t align with our ideals as strong, self-aware women.
“After we graduated high school, it was back to being daddy’s protégé for her. She went off to college, while I went into my dark place trying to reconcile all my demons. Even when I finally met someone, marriage was the last thing on my mind.”
“But if you ever got married, this is the kind of cake you’d like?” I’m not sure why I’m pushing the topic, but I’m so into her I want to know these things.
She eyes me and I hold her gaze, determined not to back down.
In a measured voice, she says, “If I ever get married, the cake is incidental. But . . .” She scoops a blob of frosting off the plate with her finger and sucks it off. “If it winds up being you, I think this is the cake I’d want.”
“Is that a possibility?” I ask, heart hammering, though I give her a sideways smile to try to play off how the comment affects me. I scoot closer, careful not to upset the cake.
“Anything is possible,” she says, staring into my eyes. “If this lasts beyond the trip home, beyond Delgado getting what he deserves, beyond all of it . . . yes, it’s definitely possible. But you know it depends on so much.”
“Yes, but I also know I’m up to the challenge.”
She lets out an exasperated breath. “You’re twenty-two, Sam. Are you seriously saying you’re so sure of your feelings that you want to marry me?”
“I am.”
Her mouth opens slightly and she just stares for a moment, then shakes her head and whispers, “Crazy, crazy boy. In case it’s escaped your notice, I’m thirty years old today.”
“Yes, I’m aware. But I’m also aware that we’ve both been through hell and back. You’re so hung up on the years between us I’m tempted to think you want an excuse to run. I hope that’s not true, because if our age difference is the only reason you have, it’s a pretty weak one. But if you aren’t sure about your feelings yet, I can wait. I’ve got time, after all, since I’m only twenty-two.”
Her hesitation should probably worry me, but for some reason it doesn’t. She’s come back to me at every turn since this trip began, so I’m confident this will be no different.
She gives me a playful shove, then sighs. “The thing is, I am sure. I love you, and I don’t throw those words around like they’re meaningless. But getting married is a big step . . .”
“Then don’t say yes until I ask you for real. That’s not what I’m doing right now. All I’m saying is that I want it. I want you. I want forever with you. When we decide to start forever is something we can talk about another time. I just want to put it all out there so you know. I’m not going anywhere, Toni.”
She studies me a moment longer, then rolls her eyes. The next thing I know, she’s grabbing a handful of the remaining cake and smearing it across my face. “God, you’re so fucking perfect! Stop being so perfect, damn you!”
Laughing, I dig into the cake myself and smash a blob of it against her cheek, smearing it over her mouth. “You love it.”
I topple her over and proceed to kiss her silly, then lick the icing off her face while she laughs uncontrollably beneath me. Her laughs turn into moans the more we kiss, and neither of us cares when we start pawing at each other with frosting-coated hands.
A moment later she fumbles for a condom from the dish beside the bed and rips it open, handing it to me. I roll it on, then I’m inside her again, and it’s pure bliss feeling her wrapped around me while we share deep, buttercream-flavored kisses.
We pretty much have no choice but to shower again. Then we rummage through the closets for clean sheets but find none. So we strip the bed of the mess, leaving the comforter, which somehow managed to evade the worst of the cake explosion.
Toni lies flat on her back on one side of the mattress while I set up my tattoo machine, arranging a small honeycomb of ink cups on the nightstand with nothing but red and black ink.
She lets out a shaky breath and I glance down at her. “You nervous? You know I’m not going to fuck this up, right?”
“I trust you.”
“Good, because when I’m finished, you’re going to do me. So start thinking about which body part you want to claim as yours.” I give her a wink.
She laughs. “I’m not tattooing your dick. I’ve had enough of that to last me for a while after Leo’s last visit.”
“Noted. No dick tattoos. But what if I wanted it pierced? Would you do that?”
“Yes, but not until I’ve had my fill of you enough to stand waiting for it to heal.”
“Naturally,” I say matter-of-factly. “We should do yours at the same time and take a week off while we both heal. I think maybe when I’m twenty-five I’ll be ready to go that long without sex with you.”
“Okay, smartass. I’m seriously stoked to get to return the favor. Am I allowed to match what you give me?”
“You don’t even know what I’m giving you yet. What if it’s something completely cheesy that you hate?”
“Then I’m giving you one even cheesier as payback.”
“Sounds fair.”
I carefully swipe mild disinfectant over her
sternum, studying the edges of her existing tattoos and fixing in my mind an image of what I want the final product to look like. Her breasts rise and fall, enticingly free of ink. The symmetrical botanical designs on her torso cover both sides from collar bones to waist, and they frame her breasts without meeting in the middle. There’s a gap between that’s several inches wide—wider just in the center of her chest, with her breasts completely un-inked, so I actually have a lot to work with, but I don’t intend to stray beyond the bounds of the area she designated.
I dip my needle into black ink and am about to set it to her skin when she lifts a hand and holds my wrist. “Sam. You know this means everything to me, don’t you? Despite the jokes, giving you this is as meaningful to me as that thing we talked about earlier.”
Her eyes plead with me to fill in the blanks, and I’m tempted to clarify for her, but think better of it. Instead I bend and kiss her.
“I know,” I say in a gruff voice. “It means everything to me too.”
“You’re just freehanding it, though?”
I take her hand and squeeze it, then set it at her side. “Not exactly. The finished design’s up here.” I tap my temple. “Trust me, I know how much it means. I won’t fuck it up.”
She nods as she takes a deep breath that makes her gorgeous breasts rise and fall. I’m tempted to set the machine aside and just worship those lovely mounds, but this moment is more important to us both. To our relationship.
In an effort to ease some of her tension, I ask, “So have you ever tattooed naked before?”
“Nope. I’m guessing this is a first for you?”
“Yep. Thinking it should be our thing from now on. Just fair warning, when I’m done with this, I’m making love to you again.”
She hazards a glance between my legs, but Hugo is actually behaving for once. I’m pretty sure we wore him out, but he’ll be ready to go before too long.
“Only if you pick another toy.”
I falter and lift the machine so I don’t fuck up the line I’m etching into her chest, then shake my head, chuckling. “Sounds like a plan.”
