The boys had ‘said hello’ to Jefferson from time to time on the webcam. He’d shown them his kids’ Curious George flashlight and Woody doll. Now my youngest child was requesting a tuck-in from my boyfriend, his new best friend.
Jefferson came back, closing the boys’ bedroom door.
“He still wants me to sleep with him.”
“He has to wait his turn.”
He dropped to his knees in front of the futon, kissing me and pushing my torso back while pressing his hand into the crotch of my jeans.
The anticipation. The delicious sensation I’d had earlier of his fingers on my wrists as he sat behind me on the floor and threaded his arms through mine, acting out a story for the boys. All that chastity. Hours of it.
I pulled his neck to me, his face in my hands, my clit pulsing.
Yeah, this is what I want.
We were slow, alert to sounds of movement from the other side of the door, careful to keep our sounds as low as possible.
I would have been content to make out for hours on the futon, but Jefferson had other ideas. My jeans came off, and my shirt, leaving me barefoot in black panties and a mesh bra. That disappeared in short order, and his mouth made its home on my body.
It is a divine thing, the way he makes love to my skin. And when he is in that place, where he can’t help but lick and chew and suck and bite, it’s all I want: to feel that. To be the one giving his lips and tongue and teeth satisfaction. That’s my joy.
He bit my lips. My nipples. The inside of my right thigh. And, as I discovered two days later, the back of my left upper arm. Hard.
I was reasonably coherent through the kissing and touching and whispering. All that buildup. I always do well until the biting starts and then I slip under. I was in that other place when his mouth found my clit.
His fingers followed and I was soon coming to them and their small but deliberate movements inside me.
Once I’ve come, it’s bound to happen again, and soon.
Jefferson adjusted his stance and set himself to bringing about my second coming. My back arched as I sprayed him and the futon.
“Goddamn, honey,” he whispered.
It was the first time he’d seen me squirt.