by Aidy Award
“Fuck yeah. I fucking love that position. Ride ‘em cowgirl.”
He grabbed my hips pulling me into him, grinding us together. I rocked my hips letting the sensations flow over us. I wanted him inside of me. It wasn’t something I did often. So rarely was the act of penetration for me. Tonight it would be.
The condoms were only a reach away. I leaned forward again and gave Grant a quick kiss and rolled off him. I grabbed the box and shook them out on the floor. It took only another second to tear one open.
“Put it on me, love. Then let me fuck your brains out.”
“I’ll keep my brains, thank you very much. But, I’m about to blow yours.”
I popped the condom between my lips. Mmm. Minty. This was a particular favorite trick of mine that I used normally when a new partner wasn’t too excited about condoms. Not that Grant opposed, but better safe, than preggo or diseased. That was a sure way to kill a modeling career. I might not be very sane at the moment, but I was always safe.
I pressed my lips to his tip, and I swear he grew another inch. Slowly, I took him into my mouth, rolling the condom down centimeters at a time until I had him as far as I needed to go. His hands threaded through my hair and his hips pushed forward until he hit the back of my throat.
“Fuck, yeah, love. Your mouth is incredible.”
I shouldn’t be allowing him to hold me like this. Blow jobs were male domination to the core. But, it didn’t feel that way. I was lost in the sensation, both of him filling my mouth and his hands stretched through my hair.
It turned me on.
Here was power where I hadn’t realized it existed.
I swallowed knowing it would drive him crazy and then quickly released him.
Grant’s breath was coming in deep fast pulls. “I am definitely going to fuck that mouth later.”
I licked my lips. “Later. Right now, your inside of me.”
I straddled him again, his hands automatically reaching for my hips. It took only a second for me to position above him. I grabbed his cock and guided him into my body.
I wanted to make it last. An eternity passed while I sank down onto him. He stretched me, filled me. It was too much and not enough.
My body moved over his, sending sparks flying through me. I rocked, he pushed, I pulled, he rose. We were one.
I closed my eyes and let my head fall back. I wanted only to feel. Grant wanted more.
“Dani. Look at me.”
I shook my head and continued my rhythm. I could do this forever.
Fingers rubbed over my mons and between our bodies. He found my clit and circled it with each of my movements. The sensations skyrocketed.
“Danica. Look at me. Let me see your eyes.”
I squeezed them tight and then opened to find him staring at me. Not at my chest, not at the place our bodies were joined, but at me.
“Yes, love. That’s it. I’ve never seen a more perfect picture. Let me see that look in your eyes when you come for me.”
My hips moved faster, I couldn’t control them. He thrust up into me, never breaking eye contact. I wanted to tear my gaze from his, but the intense intimacy of the moment chained me.
It was no shackle I could shake off. It was a chain of love.
The Art of Cuddling with a Splinter in Your Ass
No way. This was sex, this was lust. This wasn’t…the other L-word.
Grant rocked his hips thrusting into me. He rubbed my clit with each movement sending me spiraling toward another orgasm. His eyes never left mine. “Come for me, love. Let me see you explode.”
I was so close and this one promised to be so far beyond the last orgasm I was afraid I’d break apart with only Grant there to put me back together. “Come with me.”
“I’m there, love. Fucking ride me.” His voice was so low and ragged. He took control and set a rapid rhythm taking us both to the edge of reason and control.
I couldn’t control my breathing, I couldn’t control anything.
I was his and he was mine.
Every nerve ending overloaded like a thousand million sparklers lighting the way for a flood of sensations and emotions. I cried out and let the orgasm flow over me, taking me. Grant thrust into me and called out my name. Our eyes never closed, our gazes held tight through the storm.
My body still shaking, I collapsed onto Grant’s chest. We both sucked in air like there wouldn’t be anymore. He wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my neck. Peppering me with tiny kisses pressed here, there and everywhere.
My body continued to shake, the muscles between my legs spasming all on their own not letting me down from the orgasm. Grant raked his hands over my back massaging me, holding me, helping me come down. I took a breath finally getting enough air into my lungs.
Wow. That was…just wow.
Remind me to fuck around with a lifelong friend more often.
“Holy hell, Dani.” Grant’s arms slowed and wrapped around my back holding me tight.
My sentiments exactly.
If that was vanilla sex, I’d been doing it wrong.
Grant rolled us so he was spooning me. “That was beyond amazing. I always knew it would be. You’re so open with your sexuality. That kind of confidence in a woman is amazingly sexy.”
The thought that he didn’t expect a woman my size to be confident in bed flittered through my head. He didn’t say that. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking it.
“So you enjoyed me being on top?” I knew he’d gotten his rocks off, but then again he was a guy, they didn’t need a whole lot to get off.
“Hell yeah. Not that I don’t relish the moment I get you under me.” He kissed my neck and laid back onto the makeshift bed pulling me into the crook of his arms.
His fingers stroked up and down my back in a light caress that felt entirely too good. Aftercare was important in my world. It was just that I was usually the one softly caressing, bringing the guys down from that subspace high.
This felt too good to move, so I needed another way to stroke Grant.
“You wanna tell me what your flip out was all about?” Maybe I could help. Probably not with money, but I was always there for support.
“Nope.” Grant moved and sat up leaving me on the hard towel-covered ground.
I much preferred his hard uncovered chest. Damn. I guess I wasn’t good at any other kind of stroking. Still, I had to try. It’s what friends did.
“Hey, there’s no getting out of this.” I made my tone soft, so he knew I wasn’t pressuring, just trying to help. “Spill.”
“About what?” He sounded like a kid with his hand stuck in the candy jar trying to pretend the jar didn’t exist.
“Good try. What do you mean you’re broke?”
“Oh, Christ.” He sighed deep down. “Do we have to talk about that now? Can’t we just fuck around some more instead?”
I pulled up a towel to cover most of me, but left exposed thighs. “Talk now, fucking around soon.”
“This requires liquid fortification.” Grant stood and grabbed the beer cans. He popped two open and handed me one. I raised an eyebrow at him.
“What? You wanted one.”
I shook my head but smiled, took the beer from him and tasted it. Lukewarm, only slightly gross. “I did.”
A hot guy, good orgasms, warm beer and cheesy snacks. What more could a girl want?
Trust. Love. A true connection.
Ridiculous. This was as good as it gets. Almost.
He sat on the towels next to me, took a big gulp of his beer and stared at the ceiling. “I’m cut off.”
I sat up, spilling part of the drink. That was the last thing I expected to hear. “What? Why? When?”
“You should be a reporter,” he said, his voice deadpan.
I wrapped my arms around his back, leaning into him. “Shush. What happened?”
Grant continued to look anywhere but at me, and his voice was quieter. “When I quit school my old man kicked me to the cur
b. Either I fulfilled my obligations and took over the family business or no money, no trust fund, no nothin’.”
I still had a tiny sore spot about Grant quitting school before we graduated. It had been our first real fight. I didn’t want him to go, didn’t understand why he needed to. I still didn’t. But we’d been too good of friends to stay mad and all it took was a postcard from Tanzania to win me back. That had been his first money-making gig as a photographer. “You never said anything.”
“He gave me an ultimatum. The art or the money. I took the art and I worked for a lot of the rags clawing my way up from the bottom.”
“But you worked for Granted. A lot if I remember right.”
“When I was landing jobs with all the other publication companies Granted Media came courting me. At first I didn’t want anything to do with them, but they offered some kick-ass shoots with top models.”
“You mean hot centerfolds.” I teased, but with the truth.
“Those too.” His free hand caressed my bare thigh, but I slapped it away. Hanky panky-time was later.
“I worked my ass off, built a name for myself and my pictures spoke for themselves. I made sure I got the same kind of contracts other photographers got. No special treatment.”
“And now?”
He gulped the last of his beer, crushed the can in his hand and tipped it across the room into an open box. “My father says it was his plan all along to let me go off and learn the biz on my own and that I’d bring a different perspective to the company.”
That was pretty stinking manipulative, but it had worked. Grant was going to give up his life to take over Granted Media. “Don’t do it then.”
I didn’t want him to give up being him to satisfy someone else’s idea of what was best.
Either he didn’t hear me or ignored me. Grant turned and looked at me. His eyes were a million miles away, or maybe ten years away. “We were going to change the world. Remember?”
I nodded. Idealists. That’s what my mom called us. My father had other, uh, names for my career choices. Like far-fetched and stupid.
We both made it despite of our detractors. I’d just always thought Grant had it just a wee bit easier.
I touched his face and waited until his eyes focused on me. I wanted him to see me. “We did, in our own ways.”
“You more than me. All I did was prove I could take great pictures and sell them to the clamoring masses. You broke social norms and are more the baddass for it.”
Is that how he saw me? “I don’t know about that.”
He chuckled and stroked my cheek. “I’m just trying to compete, show certain people that I’m not that playboy image.”
His gaze bore into me. Behind those eyes was heat, passion and some sort of plea. Surely he didn’t think I needed convincing that he was more than an image. But, maybe I did think of him a little like that. He did trot all around the world, had beautiful women in every port and definitely had never been the settling down type.
Mental gasp. I did think of him exactly like that. I’d never hold it against him. We were two peas in a façade pod. Both showing a face to the world that wasn’t quite what we truly were. Only Grant was getting ready to break out of the shell.
“I need to go into this CEO thing showing my father and the board that diversity is not only beautiful, but will appeal to more readers and the bottom line.”
“So you’re going to change the world.” A warm glow fired in my chest. Had Grant always been this amazing and I simply missed it, seeing him for the playboy he acted? I, of all people should have seen this side of him.
“You took a big risk planning this photoshoot, didn’t you?” It was way more than a working vacation for him.
“I don’t want to work for, much less run a company that’s stuck in the last century. But the board is going to be hard to convince because they were all born old farts.” His voice was lighter now.
I think maybe talking about his situation had helped some. I joked back. “Dirty old farts if I had to guess.”
“Which is part of why I decided to do this all bodies issue in one of our mainstream magazines and with the hottest models of diversity that I could get.” His fingers crept up my thigh again.
I didn’t stop it this time. “Appeal to their inner dirty minds.”
“But it’s all rogue and thus not financed by Granted. Not that any of it matters now because we don’t have the pictures. This was my best shot of changing the face of the company. I wanted to go in with a bang,” he slipped his fingers under the towel and moved into heated territory, “everyone is waiting for me to take charge. So I am, I do. I always have.”
Well, duh. It wasn’t the position of power, his tall, stark, and handsome looks, or his money that made sure everyone else knew that he was in charge of any room he walked into. It was instinct. Grant was the alpha. Confidence, charm, and charisma wafted around him stronger than any cologne.
Every law of nature said we should be repelling like a couple of magnets facing the wrong way. Opposites attract, sames chase each other around in vain.
The L-word That Shall Not Be Named
I rolled onto one side squirming away from his roaming hands and circled the top beer can with my fingers. Should I clue him in? Knowledge was power, and damn if I didn’t like power. “Because you’re naturally dominant. People want you to take charge because they see that and know that you’ll take on the burdens, take care of them.”
He was undeterred by my body block and trapped my legs under one of his. “What, like I’m some alpha-male gorilla? I don’t go around pounding my chest and growling at people.”
I sat up on my elbows. “You don’t have to. Think about the people around you, how they act, how, for you, they submit.”
He used the opportunity to fondle my bare ass. “This isn’t about kink, love.”
I squirmed, but not enough to make him stop. His hands felt too good on me. “It doesn’t have to be. Some people are dominant in all aspects of their lives. Others are not. Sex is just one part of that. Of course, submissive women are drawn to that.”
For the first time in…ever, I was drawn to that.
A swirling storm of attraction whirled around us the minute he walked onto the beach this morning. Not gonna think about that now.
“Here comes the feminist speech about how when I hold a door open for a lady I’m repressing her.” His words said irritation, but his teasing tone and foot rubbing my ankle and leg below the towels said very different.
“Or?” It was interesting seeing into the mind of a Dom who didn’t know he was bent that way.
“How about the one about because I own a slew of men’s magazines I’m a misogynistic pig?”
Footsies turned into legsies.
“Hmm. What else you got?” Sounded like he got more negative attention from the haters than I did.
Every time I posted something body positive with a picture of my plus-size self I inevitably got comments about how gross my body was or how I was flaunting an unhealthy lifestyle or, or, or. But for every ugly comment there were a dozen defending, thanking or sharing. Interesting that this man’s man with his good looks, money, and alpha dominance could relate.
“Oh, I know. It’s the one where I’m the rich entitled playboy who only dates models and dump them if they don’t maintain a size two.”
That one hit a little too close to home. I withdrew my feet and set both firmly on the ground. “You don’t only date models.”
“According to the tabloids only anorexic ones.” He pushed his thigh between mine and his arms on either side of me, trapping me in a cage of luscious lickable muscles, but a cage nonetheless.
If I pretended the tabloids printed truth I could convince myself this thing between us was nothing more than great sex. Looked like both me and the tabloids were big ole liars.
“Good thing we aren’t dating then,” I said.
“Hmm, I think we should be doing a whole lot more than dating,
love.” His leg pushed up until my pussy was firmly against him.
We were side by side, neither on top, neither on the bottom, neither of us firmly in control. It was only a matter of time.
Being dominant was in his every action. There wasn’t really a chance he was anything other than the top of the food chain no matter the environment, board room or bedroom.
Grant nuzzled my neck and nibbled my ear. “If I’m not an asshole what makes you say I’m naturally dominant?”
I held his head close, loving the scrape of his teeth and the scruff on his chin across my skin. “The way you held the door for me, how you showed possession when you put your hand on the small of my back walking through the restaurant where all eyes were on you, the fact that you enjoy taking over a multi-million-dollar media conglomerate.”
Not to mention the way we’d fought for who would be on top.
He pulled the towels down exposing my chest. His mouth worked its way south in a path of succulent destruction. “I knew you were going to get me on that holding the door open thing. Besides, the people in there weren’t looking at me.”
I slipped I reached between us and slid my hand down his stomach and then around his cock. “Being dominant doesn’t mean being an asshole, you know.”
He laughed, but, it turned into a gruff gurgle when I gently squeezed him, stroking firmly up his shaft.
I had him right where I wanted him. “It’s more about taking care of people, giving them what they want even when they don’t know what they need.”
His breathing became rougher and his cock incredibly harder. “How about you tell me how you became such an expert?”
Screeeeech. My brain and body stopped on the edge of a figurative cliff. That was too close of a call.
I had no intention of telling him about the club and being a Domme. That came with a whole set of expectations that I wasn’t sure I wanted to fulfill with Grant. He wasn’t my usual type and the regular me wouldn’t fit in this situation. I backed away from that ledge and chose a different route.
