Missionary Position

by Daisy Prescott

  “Selah,” he whispered, his voice husky.

  I waited for him to continue, but instead he pulled his hand away from my mouth and replaced his thumb with his tongue. I much preferred the latter. His hands roamed down my body. One hand squeezed my breast while the other skimmed over my hip before resting on the curve of my ass. From the way his hands moved, it seemed he couldn’t decide if he was a boob or ass man. I had plenty of both for him to choose from.

  Our height difference meant he had to contort himself to kiss me anywhere south of my neck. I put us both out of our misery when I escaped the cage of his arms and led him into the bedroom. At the edge of the bed, he surprised me by spinning me around to face him. I fell backward into the soft bedding, whiteness enveloping me.

  “You look like a hot house flower in a field of snow.” His gaze scanned me from head to toe. He bent down and slowly removed my shoes, skimming his hands up my calves and under the long wrap skirt. His touch alternated between nothing to a scrape of his short nails.

  I squirmed and moaned, and he hadn’t even reached my thighs yet.

  He kicked off his own shoes, and then undid the buttons of his shirt. I leaned up on my elbows to watch.

  Locking eyes with me, he took his time. My impatience got the better of me, and I leaned forward to finish the job, shoving his shirt off his broad shoulders. I took a moment to take in everything from his tanned skin and compact cluster of hair between his defined pecs. A slightly darker trail of hair started at his navel and ran south into his still buttoned pants. He was fit—swimmer or rower fit—all broad muscles at the top and narrowing down to his hips.

  Holy mother of pearl, he had the V.

  Damn Dutch V.

  Damn younger man.

  “You planning to stare at me all night with those emerald eyes of yours?” he asked, snapping me out of my worship of the V. I wanted to pray to it with my tongue. Instead, I reached out and slowly traced the ridge with my fingers.

  He arched his hips closer to me, reminding me of the treasure at the base of the V.

  “I might. You’re very stare-able.”

  “Is that a word?”

  “Shhh, less talking.”

  He followed directions well by gently pushing me down on the bed and landing on top of me. I opened my legs to accommodate him, and he rested his upper body on his forearms on either side of my shoulders. The weight of his pelvis balanced perfectly against my own.

  Rather than kiss my mouth, he kissed down my jaw and neck, slowly exploring the area while I squirmed beneath him.

  He smiled against my skin, evidently enjoying the torture. Two could play at teasing. I reached my hand between us to stroke his lower stomach, never quite touching anything south of his belt, but occasionally brushing my hand over his length.

  He groaned. “You are evil. And wearing far too many clothes.”

  “You’re right about both. Can’t help the evil, but something can be done about the clothes.” I squirmed again and bucked my hips to encourage him to move. He moved all right, grinding himself into me for a moment before rolling to the side. “Clearly, I’m in bed with evil, too.”

  He grinned and ran his hand through his hair, then flopped on his back for a second.

  I waited for him to look at me before taking off my blouse.

  “Hold on, that’s the part I enjoy doing,” he said when I lifted the hem.

  His hands shoved mine out of the way so he could pull the material over my head, dropping it on the floor.

  I fought the instinct, which comes with age or innocence to cover myself. No point in hiding what he would see naked in a moment. I might not have had the slimmer body I possessed in my twenties, but now I knew more about pleasure—how to give it, ask for it, and receive it—than I did when I had a smaller ass and perkier tits. There was a word for girls like me: zaftig. Over the years and lovers, I’d learned confidence was my best asset. From the way Kai stared at my chest, I would amend that to be confidence and my full breasts.

  “Planning to stare all night?” I repeated his words from earlier.

  “I might.” Lifting his eyes briefly to mine, he smiled. “Come here.” He crooked his finger and leaned against the bed.

  I crawled over him until I straddled his hips. His hands fumbled at my waist for the ties of my skirt. He found and untied them with one strong tug, unwrapping the fabric. I lifted up on my knees to allow him to untangle me from the skirt, leaving me only wearing my black bra and matching stretchy lace boy shorts. The gods of pretty lingerie had shined down upon me when I dressed that morning.

  Kai’s hands tugged my hips forward, lining us up. I arched over him, bracing my weight on my hands next to his face. Even in shadow, his eyes sparkled with lust. I might not have been a size four, or even a size eight, but the man liked what he saw. In fact, I could feel tangible evidence of how much he liked it. He tugged down my bra and nipped the swell of my breast where it spilled over the cup. His other hand reached behind me and nimbly undid the clasp.

  One handed.

  Impressive.

  Grabbing my hands, he flipped us. My bra was flung to the floor and Kai lavished my breasts with his hands and mouth.

  Holy shit, the man knew what to do. My own fingers scrambled over the muscles in his shoulders, attempting to hold on so I wouldn’t lose my mind when he bit my nipple, then licked away the sting.

  I moaned when he finally moved below my equator, dipping two long fingers under the lace. I could feel the vibrations against my skin when he stifled a chuckle against my breast.

  Game on, Dutch boy.

  I sought out his hardness and realized he still wore his pants. After unbuckling his belt and undoing the zipper, I found what I wanted; its hard length and heat making it impossible to miss.

  “Your pants.”

  He raised his face from my cleavage. “What about them?”

  “Off.” I tugged at them. “Now.”

  “So demanding. I’m not used to being bossed around this much.”

  I glared at him. “Now.”

  He laughed and stood, dropping both his trousers and his boxers. His beautiful cock stood at attention, gently bobbing as he stepped closer to the bed.

  Yes, beautiful. Some are.

  His cough drew my attention north of his cock for a brief moment. I licked my lips and smirked.

  This would be fun.

  Dressed, Kai was beyond merely handsome, but naked he was magnificent, with sculpted hard lines and angles. And the V. His body should have been memorialized in marble.

  After rolling on my stomach, I motioned him closer, grabbing his hip and pulling him the final inches to me where I could trace my tongue along the paths set by my fingers. Perfection.

  He moaned and tangled his hands through my hair, less pushing or guiding, more to balance himself while I dragged my lips across the line of dark hair near his navel to the other hip. I was teasing him and loving it. His fingers tightened around a few strands of hair, the pain causing me to look up at him.

  “It isn’t nice to tease.” His voice sounded stern, commanding.

  “Yes, Sir,” I answered, licking my lips and then licking him. “Better?” I asked.

  He only nodded.

  From this angle, I could support myself with one arm, leaving my other hand to wander his body. When I scraped my nails along his hips, he squirmed, and I made a note.

  My current position also allowed me to take him fully in my mouth, which I did repeatedly, gently scraping my teeth along his flesh when I retreated.

  Soon he was panting and gently thrusting his hips, restraining himself, or trying to. I cupped his balls, gently squeezing before slowly tracing a finger behind them.

  “Stop,” he muttered and touched my cheek.

  I opened my eyes, peering up to see the strain on his face. With a final swirl of my tongue, I released him but held onto the base with my hand.

  “Stop?” I asked.

  “Yes, I’m close, and I don’t
want to finish in your mouth the first time.”

  With a devilish grin, I asked, “Would you prefer my hand?”

  He growled and managed to fling me down on the bed before I realized he’d moved.

  “Your mouth is very smart.”

  “Is that a compliment on my oral skills?”

  “No.”

  I frowned.

  “No, not that you shouldn’t be complimented. You should. It was perfect, but you always have a comeback or remark. You can never be serious.” He crawled over me until our faces were inches apart, his voice and expression were serious.

  “I take sex very seriously. Blow jobs especially.”

  “See?”

  “I’m serious.”

  “You’re teasing again.”

  I grinned. “Maybe.”

  He kissed me and shut me up with his tongue. I didn’t complain. I loved his tongue. Secretly, I was relieved he’d stopped me. Oral was a means to an end, not the full act. I didn’t love oysters, either, because they reminded me of semen, and I preferred to swallow neither.

  Kai’s hands reacquainted themselves with my boobs. One hand slid around and cupped my ass, rolling my hips closer to his. I still wore my underwear, and that was wrong. I reached down to shimmy out of it and Kai stopped me. His own hands tugged down the lace, leaving me bare for him.

  “Let’s see if you enjoy being teased.”

  Turns out, I did enjoy it. Teased, licked, lapped, and whatever he did with his scruff. Scruffed?

  Kai had skills.

  I gave up trying to figure out his technique downtown and went along for the ride.

  “Unf.”

  “Ooh.”

  “Right …”

  “…there.”

  “Yes.”

  “Damn.”

  “Yes.”

  I hoped the walls of his room were as thick as the plush carpet, because I was loud. Kai’s hair stood on end from where I clutched it. I nearly squashed him with my thighs as I transformed into a shuddering, clenching, panting ball of ecstasy on the bed.

  He kissed my inner thigh and dragged his scruff across my skin again one last time, then sat on his haunches and smiled down at me. He swiped his thumb across his lips and sucked the tip.

  I lay there, helpless against his mojo.

  And we hadn’t even fucked yet. As evident by his still turgid cock.

  I giggled over the word turgid.

  “Something funny?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I think I’ve orgasmed myself silly.”

  “Is that possible?”

  “Apparently so.”

  He smiled at me and stroked himself. I stared. It was a sight to behold.

  “Perhaps we should stop.”

  “Are you kidding me? Let’s go for stupid.”

  I reached for his cock; he reached for a condom. I thought about commenting on his preparedness and assumptions. Instead, I quietly observed him, trying to will condoms to be sexy. He leaned over me, bracing his weight on his elbows while I guided him, releasing him when his tip brushed against me.

  We moaned in unison when he stretched and filled me.

  Damn.

  Kai rocked and my hips rose to meet his. I kept my eyes open to watch his face change with each movement. I was close when he rolled us over for me to straddle him, his thumb on my clit, pushing me closer to the edge. His fingers pinched a nipple. His tongue peeked out as he lifted his mouth to my breast and licked.

  Game over.

  I spiraled and fell, losing myself in the pleasure of another orgasm.

  And he was still hard.

  I loved younger men.

  He flipped us again and took over, thrusting and seeking his own pleasure. His brow furrowed with concentration. An expression, which could be pleasure or pain, or both, took over his beautiful features. His rhythm staggered, and with a final thrust, he stilled.

  Even his come face was beautiful, like one of Michelangelo’s tortured slaves.

  We lay on our backs horizontally across the bed, and I brushed a damp lock of hair from his forehead. He caught my hand and kissed my palm.

  He opened his eyes to look at me. “You’re incredible, Selah.”

  “Likewise.” My smile was lazy and sated. “We should do that again.”

  “Right now?” He laughed. “I’m not eighteen.”

  “Lord, no.” I sighed. “I don’t even know my last name right now.”

  With a smirk, he said, “Mission accomplished. You’re not only silly, but stupid.”

  I laughed. “Congratulations.”

  “What’s my prize?” He stood up and headed to the bathroom.

  “We get to do it again?”

  The water in the shower drowned out the sound of his laughter.

  Mmm, shower sex. My body responded. I wondered how long until he would be ready to claim his prize.

  I WASN’T SURE if his stamina was due to his super-human genes or the copious amounts of dairy I imagined he ate growing up, but Kai had the recovery period of a race horse. Assuming race horses had quick recovery times.

  With its ultra-hot water and amazing pressure I could stay in his shower forever. The hot naked guy added to my bliss.

  After the shower, we collapsed into bed for a few hours, until Gerhard brushing against my ass woke me up again. By Gerhard, I meant his penis, not the man. Gerhard was too perfect a name not to use. I would never tell Kai I named his penis. Who does that? Teenage girls in Judy Blume books and weirdos. Obviously, I was neither.

  Round three ended with my shoulders hanging off the bed and an inability to remember the day of the week.

  “Coffee.”

  “What?” he mumbled from his position with his face in the pillows.

  “Coffee. I need real coffee.” I lifted my head.

  “Cappuccino?” he asked, his voice muffled by the down.

  “You have cappuccinos?” Rolling myself as gracefully as possible, I twisted my body to lie next to him on the pillows.

  He faced me and nodded. “Room service?”

  I sighed. “Even if this is some alternative reality, I’m saying yes and drinking all of the cappuccinos I can until I wake up and realize it was a dream.”

  He pinched my arm.

  “Ouch!” I rubbed the spot and batted his pinching fingers away from me. “Why did you pinch me?”

  “To prove you’re awake.” He grinned and jumped off the bed before I could retaliate. Grabbing a fresh pair of boxers from a drawer, he put them on, and sauntered into the living area while I enjoyed ogling his ass. “Do you want breakfast?”

  Of course I did. I had a week. I wanted whatever he would give me.

  If said giving included cappuccinos and croissants, even better. Neither were the best I’d ever had, but they beat the watery instant coffee at Ama’s. Wealth and privilege had their bonuses.

  I wasn’t expected at the museum until the next day, so we spent the morning on the couch watching TV. I wrapped a thick white hotel robe around myself, and after some pestering, Kai wore one too. We resembled marshmallow-people hybrids. Decidedly unsexy, but somehow he overcame his marshmallow-ness to still be handsome. I wish the same could be said for me.

  “Pool?”

  I looked at him from the corner of my eye. “What about it?”

  “We should go downstairs and sit by the pool.”

  Naked and sexual with Kai was one thing, but would I parade myself around in a bathing suit in front of him? I mulled it over for a minute until I realized my one and only swimsuit sat safely tucked away at Ama’s.

  “No suit. Do they frown on skinny dipping?”

  He shook his head and smiled. “I’m one-hundred-percent certain they don’t approve of skinny dipping.”

  “Well, if we aren’t having sex in the pool, then I guess I’ll be happy to sit on a lounger and watch you swim.”

  He choked on his cappuccino, causing a cloud of foam to break free and land on his hand.

  “Was that an
option?”

  “Obviously not here.” I stared at him, willing my face to remain serious.

  “Someday we’ll travel somewhere with a pool where such things are encouraged.”

  “Ew, can you imagine the chlorine needed to swim safely in that pool?” I shuddered.

  “I meant a private pool. Or a lake.”

  “Lake?” I screeched. “With fish? No way.”

  “You’re making it difficult to fulfill the fantasy.”

  “You want to fulfill my fantasies?”

  Meeting my eyes, he nodded. “Of course.”

  I stared at him for a beat or two. “Who are you?”

  “Didn’t we clear that up yesterday?”

  “We cleared up the name, but really, who are you?”

  “I can’t tell if you want me to answer you literally or if you’re being funny.”

  “It’s kind of rhetorical.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

  “Is that good?”

  He sat at the far end of the sofa and I briefly studied his face before nodding. “It’s good. Disconcerting, but good.”

  “Let’s quit while I’m ahead. You get dressed and I’ll grab my trunks for the pool.”

  Outside, sunshine blazed down, but a light breeze blew fronds of palm trees surrounding the pool area. I sat under an umbrella on a chaise lounge watching Kai swim laps.

  Everything went into slow motion when he exited the pool. His blond hair darkened by water made his eyes more striking against his tan skin. Not that I stared at his eyes. I was too busy envying every water droplet racing over the muscles of his chest and abs, drawing my eyes further down his body to where his swim trunks clung to his thighs and Gerhard.

  Droplets of cool water sprinkled my bare legs. Looking up, I met a smiling Kai with his hand still near his hair where he had shook the water onto my skin.

  “Hey now!” I scooted out of the way.

  “You looked lost in a daydream.”

  “Kind of. Did you swim competitively?”

  “How did you guess?”

  “Besides your classic swimmer’s body?”

  He smirked at me. “I did. I swam on the Harvard team. Long distance.”

  “Mmm.”

  “You approve?”

  “I do.”

  “I didn’t figure you for the type who dated us jocks in school.” He reached over me for a towel, deliberately dripping water on me again before wrapping white terry cloth around his hips. From the clear outline visible beneath the thick pool towel, it looked like the water wasn’t cold enough to cause shrinkage.