Surprise, Baby!

by Lex Martin

  As Kendall sleeps, she appears younger, more carefree. Those faint stress lines that show up on her forehead have vanished and her gorgeous face doesn’t have that drawn look it’s had for months now. That’s what an orgasm or three accomplishes. I could study the pretty, pacified expression on her face all morning, letting her snooze away whatever shit she’s got going on down in the flatlands. Good thing there’s nothing else for us to do up here in the sticks.

  She mumbles something incoherent, then wriggles closer against me and my woody dick.

  Guess that’s what happens when you’re staying in the forest.

  As I give myself some room so I’m not poking her in the ass—there’s a thought to make me harder—my balls suffer the most excruciating pain, like a half-dozen needles poking into my man garden. Ow. I yelp, reach down, and extricate a tiny, fuzzy kitten stretching his limbs.

  “Shaz,” I hiss, holding him up by my face. “Keep your paws—and your claws—to yourself. Package is off-limits to you. One pussy allowed down there, and it’s not you.”

  The feline’s only response is to yawn and rub his head against my jaw. Damn cat. I adjust my balls.

  As the surprise pain subsides, and Shazam settles in at the top of my pillow, I can’t help but mess with Ms. Snorey Pants. I find myself tucking Kendall’s hair behind her ear, then bringing forward a tendril under her nose like a mustache. Tracing her arm. Touching her fingers. I know I should let her sleep but—

  She stretches and opens her eyes. Blinks. Turns toward me. And stiffens.

  A PowerPoint presentation of emotions flits across her face so fast I can’t catalog them all. Comfort, confusion, a silent oh, my God, what the hell did we do last night, and then—goddammit—fear or resignation.

  No.

  Before she can open her mouth to say anything that kills my vibe, I roll her to her back, settling my hips between her legs, and give her a gentle kiss. I suck on her lower lip, then invite her tongue into my mouth.

  I’d gotten up earlier and brushed, but I give no fucks about her morning breath. After some initial hesitation, she reaches a hand to my neck and pulls me to her tight.

  When I’ve thoroughly kissed her good morning, I pause and gaze into her sky-blue eyes while I hold her hand, propping myself up by my elbow. “No freak-outs,” I whisper. “I’ve already survived an attack on my balls by the deadly claws of that beast”—I gesture at Shazzy—“so I’ll thank you to be sure to handle them with care. I’ll also thank you to handle them as soon as possible.”

  Sleepy little crinkles form at the edges of her eyes as a smile peeks out. “Last night was, um—”

  “It was.” I begin sucking my way along the bare skin of her neck as she arches her back, giving me her breasts, making my dick throb. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  The nails of her free hand rake through my hair. “The best I’ve felt in months.” She wraps her legs around my waist, letting me position my cock up against her center, so tantalizingly close that I’m wondering how many condoms I brought. At this rate we’re gonna run out before the storm ends.

  I pull her hand to my lips and press an open-mouthed kiss on it. Then I ask in a low voice, “Wanna do it again?”

  Goosebumps pop up along her arm, and I let go of her hand. She nods, capturing my face in her palms, pulling me toward her head.

  Coming up even with her face again, I give her another kiss, letting my hips dance with hers down below the covers, rubbing her in a spot that makes us both sigh. “You’re gorgeous in the morning.” Her lips part, and her pupils grow larger. My hand skims her curves, headed between her legs. When I get there, she moans, and I feel her wetness gathering already. I murmur in her ear, “And you snore. My video of you sleeping already has eight thousand views on YouTube.”

  “You did what?” she shrieks, now trying to get out from under me. Her arms flail about, and she scrambles for her phone.

  Holding her wrists over her head gently, I pin her to the bed. “Easy, killer. I’m kidding. We have no internet, remember?”

  She shoves my bicep with her shoulder. “Don’t scare me like that!”

  I let her go. “I’d never do anything like that to you. There’s no way in hell I’d ever share anything intimate about you.” My eyes lock with hers. “I’m serious. I’m not sharing you.”

  “Good.”

  “I mean, if you want to make a video, I’m down.”

  Daggers come out of her eyes before she rolls them. “Uh, no.”

  It’s so easy to rile her.

  “Don’t say no that fast. I need spank bank material when we get back to Portland.”

  “Oh my God, you didn’t just say that.”

  But I can tell she’s not upset, since she’s trying to hide her grin.

  Better go for it, though. “I won’t need spank bank material if you hang with me when we’re back in town. We need to stay in touch, KFC. No one has to know if you don’t want them to,” I say with a shrug.

  Nibbling her lip, she studies me. “On two conditions.” She pulls me to her and pivots us over so I’m on my back and she’s straddling me.

  Hell, yes. I like this position.

  “What are they?”

  Needless to say, she’ll get whatever she asks.

  As Kendall talks, she tugs the covers up to her shoulders and starts kissing her way down my chest. “One—not a soul knows about us when we get back into civilization.”

  Everything in me wants to balk at the idea I can’t be open about this. It’s bothered me a little since she brought it up last night, but I respond before I can jam my foot in my big mouth.

  “Done.”

  “And two—you do that magical thing with your tongue again before we leave.” As I nod, she scoots all the way down my legs, then leans so her mouth envelops my cock. I’d stopped her last night, but there are only so many times I can hold off. Now is not one.

  I fight to keep my eyes open to catch every incredible moment of Kendall giving me head.

  “This is quite possibly the best morning in the history of my life,” I grunt, enjoying the feel of her warm mouth hitting all the sensitive spots on my erection. Sucking, tracing the veins, swirling her tongue. One hand bracing her up while the other jacks me.

  Words tumble out of me with no filter. I tell her that she’s beautiful, that I want to fuck her mouth so deep, that I’ll do anything for her, anything. I call her baby, princess, goddess. I need to make her scream because she’s making me feel so good.

  Finally, with great restraint before this goes too far, I yank my hips back. “Not that way.”

  With her mouth glossy, she grins and waves over the condom.

  I toss one on my belly—three remaining—and this time she rolls it down my length, climbing on my hard cock. Now this is a view I’ll never tire of. Her milky skin. Those tits curving out. Her ribs and toned stomach. Head tilted back, red hair flying everywhere, blue eyes locking with me as she rubs her clit.

  Riding me until we both come. Hard.

  I must say, morning nookie with Kendall is not to be missed.

  * * *

  By evening on Friday night, we sit by the fire, the remains of our weird, diabetes-friendly leftover Thanksgiving dinner on plates all around us. Thank God for matches and the gas stove. Bee sent squash soup, green bean casserole, low-carb rolls, and low-sodium ham, which were all delicious. Even the second time around. Good thing she packed for a crowd, because we would've starved otherwise. The giant snowbank on the porch kept the food well preserved.

  Since temperatures stayed well below freezing, we didn’t want to sit way over at the dining room table, so the rug before the fire served as our space for breakfast, lunch, dinner, a Monopoly game, lots of card games, and the inspired use of two condoms. (I learned that she likes it doggy-style. So do I. Also Go-Fish led to me fucking her against a tapestry on the wall. It happens.)

  “I can’t believe it snowed for two whole days,” Kendall says, taking a sip of her ho
t tea and stroking the cat wedged against her thigh. “This storm is huge. Probably worse here on the mountain. I can’t imagine it’s this bad back home.”

  While she is a tiny person, Kendall currently resembles the Stay Puft Marshmallow man, wearing two pairs of sweatpants, her down jacket, and several pairs of socks, including one pair of mine. Whenever she shivers, I know it’s time to stoke the fire.

  “I’ll shovel us out first thing tomorrow.” Throwing on another log, I pull her into my lap, dislodging Shazam, who meows indignantly. “Sorry, dude,” I mutter, and scratch the top of his head. With KK’s back to my front, we both gaze at the flames in the fireplace. I wrap my arms around her.

  “It’s weird to be stranded. No internet. No phone. No TV. I’m not used to being disconnected.” She leans her head against my cheek. “It’s a good thing every once in a while,” she muses, and I nod. “I have to say, this weekend has not turned out at all like I thought. I’m bummed about not seeing Evie, but taking a break from work is probably healthy. No clients. No crisis.” She turns in my lap. “And I learned that you’re kinda fun.”

  “You make me blush.”

  When I lean up to kiss her, she puts a finger on my lips. “I hate to say it, but I’m even grateful for your diabetes, because without it we’d be eating scary condiments. I never thought sugar-free pumpkin pie would taste good, let alone be an amazing breakfast. Twice.”

  “No kidding. I’m grateful too.”

  Now she lets in the kiss, and she tastes of comfort. When we break apart, she surveys the soaring cabin living room in the flickering light and focuses back on me. “It’s weird to spend Thanksgiving away. I kind of miss, you know, the turkey. The food coma.”

  “Be sure to overeat next year.”

  Her eyes lower. “I miss my family. We have this cheesy tradition.”

  My arms tighten around her. “Tell me.”

  “My parents are total hippies. They make goo-goo eyes at each other all the time. While I’m good with it now, it really embarrassed me as a kid.”

  “There are worse things your parents can do,” I mutter.

  “I know.” Her eyes are sincere, although I haven’t told her anything about my family. Once again, she seems to read between the lines.

  She continues, “So anyway, every Thanksgiving, we had to go around the table, me and my sister and grandparents or whoever was there, and list things we were grateful for that year.”

  “That’s adorable.” I’d spend an afternoon in a Speedo making snow angels, even if it turned me into a Drewsicle, if it meant my family could have a meaningful conversation.

  “Well, I was thinking. I mean, we’ve spent two days under these crazy conditions with three feet of snow outside, so we can’t even open the door—”

  “And the part you’re grateful for is?”

  “For this weekend. For being forced to unplug from work for longer than the drive through Vista Ridge Tunnel. For your grandmother’s pie.” Her eyes dip down, her cheeks turning a rosy hue. “And for you looking out for me.”

  I like looking out for you.

  For the tenth time today, I remind myself that Kendall signed up to be friends with bennies, and if I launch into wanting to be her real-life boyfriend and not just her fuck buddy, there’s a very real possibility she might laugh in my face. Or worse, say no. The fear is real.

  “Everyone needs a break from business.” Having her in my lap means my happy dick takes notice, ready for another round. Not sure where my recent stamina came from, but I’m not questioning it. Maybe this little redhead has always driven me nuts, and now she’s literally driving my nuts.

  “So what are you grateful for, Drew?”

  “That session in the tub.” I’d boiled water like a good frontiersman, added it to the frigid tub, and we’d cleaned off and warmed up, in more ways than one.

  She gives me a shove. “What?” I protest. “It was a good use of the last condom.” Damn. Why didn’t I bring more? Because hooking up with Kendall never crossed my mind as a legit possibility. “Either we’re gonna have to get creative, or I’m gonna have to shovel us out in the dark so we can get to a store.”

  Her laugh makes everything better. It’s musical, gentle, and so sexy. “I’m up for being creative.”

  “Apparently I am too,” I say, thrusting up my hips so she can’t mistake my meaning. Resting both forearms on her shoulders, I examine her lively, lusty eyes. “Honestly? The thing I’m most grateful for this year is that you gave me a chance.”

  “Oh.” She exhales. Gentle kisses turn into deeper ones. I climb to my feet with her legs hooked around my waist and her arms looping my neck.

  “Should we call this position ‘the sloth’?” I ask. “I’m pretty sure if we just adjusted some clothes I could carry you around all day on my dick and not get tired.”

  “I’d like to see you try, Andrew.”

  I pause. I like hearing my full name from Kendall. A lot.

  Walking into the bedroom, I set her down on the bed and light candles to add to the one we had burning since the house got dark. “I’ve got a sexy sloth in my bed. What should I do with her?” I figure some mutual masturbation might be fun, but her next words make my heart beat faster.

  “There are ways we can do this…without a condom.” She pauses to curl a strand of hair around her finger. “I’m pretty sure I saw some lube next to your toothbrush.”

  We both know she doesn’t need lube for regular P in V sex.

  All the blood rushes from my face to my now fully-hard dick. “You’re serious?”

  “I’m nervous, though. You’re kinda girthy—”

  “True—”

  “But we can try. If you want.”

  Oh, I fucking want.

  13

  Kendall

  What happens on Mount Hood, stays on Mount Hood.

  It’s been my mantra this whole trip, more so now as I consider what I just offered Drew. Judging by the wicked smile spreading on his face, he’s into it.

  I’m not embarrassed. I’m not.

  The heat crawling up my neck belies the fact that part of me, in fact, wants to hide behind the giant dresser across the room for offering up this kind of sex, but I’m a modern woman, right? If I want to do that, I shouldn’t feel ashamed. Men ask for anal all the time without batting an eye.

  We’ve already had the safe sex talk. I know he’s clean. He gets checked all the time because of his health issues, and I’m on the pill, but it has a lower dose of hormones, which is the reason I’ve offered the backdoor instead of the main entrance tonight. I use this prescription mostly to regulate my periods since my old pill gave me migraines.

  Plus, I’m a little sore anyway. I’ve never had this much sex in my life. Drew is insatiable, and when I’m around him like this, I am too apparently.

  But going without a condom gives me pause. Beyond the intimacy of what we’re about to do, beyond the act itself, going bareback is something I’ve never considered with a lover.

  Though I can’t deny I’m curious. Feeling all of Drew like that? A shiver races through me.

  He drops onto me like a playful puppy and kisses my neck. “Whatever you want, Ken Doll. We do or don’t do whatever you want. You’re in control.”

  I nod, relief loosening my chest. The biggest shocker this week is how much Drew puts me at ease. It’s the only reason we’ve come this far, to me offering myself up on a buffet like this, which I never do. I can’t even blame alcohol because I finished the wine yesterday.

  He strips me out of the ten layers of clothes I’m wearing, and I recline back on the bed to watch as he reaches behind his head to yank off his long-sleeved fleece and T-shirt.

  And then it’s just Drew kneeling between my bare legs. Mischievous, disheveled, golden Drew beaming that devilish grin beneath his two-day old stubble. His blond hair sits askew on his head, shooting every which way, teasing me with glimpses of those mesmerizing green eyes.

  I feel like a skier racing
across a mountain, trying to dodge an avalanche. It’s exhilarating and dangerous. A thrill ride.

  What happens on Mount Hood, stays on Mount Hood.

  Shaking off the voice of reason that says I’m taking things too far tonight, I smile and drag my hand across his abs. I watch my fingers dip in the valley of those washboard muscles. Across his smooth, taut skin that I know smells like citrus. Through the trail of light hair that arrows down into his denim.

  He pulls a blanket over his shoulders as I flick open his jeans. Our eyes connect as he shuffles out of the rest of his clothes. When he pounces on me, I squeal with laughter. Like a jerk, he digs his fingers into my ribs where I’m really ticklish. I hate it, but I also kinda love it.

  And then we’re a naked tangle of limbs and bites and moans. With his hand shoved in my hair and his tongue in my mouth, he wedges himself between my thighs and thrusts against my slick core.

  Our mutual groans fill the quiet room.

  “You’re already wet.” His deep voice sends chills down my arms, and my nipples pebble against him.

  He feels amazing. Thick and hard as he tunnels his bare cock through my folds. He leans back on his knees to watch.

  With the blanket draped around him, the shadows cut hard across his body, but I can see what he’s doing and the way his hips move between my legs. How his muscular thighs strain. How his stomach muscles clench.

  I reach down to press him harder against me, and his head drops back for a second before he’s on me again, his body fitted to mine like we were made from interlocking puzzle parts.

  “Really want to fuck you like this,” he whispers against my lips.

  Bare. No condom.

  The insanity is not what he says, but that I want to let him.

  “Just…put it in to get it wet,” I mumble against his mouth. “Then we’ll go back to our plan.” He pauses to look at me, his nose pressed to mine. I shrug. “I want to feel you like this.” He’s already fucked me ten ways to Sunday. I might as well get the deluxe package.