“You said not yet,” I tease him.
“Bitch”
“Fucker.”
“I’m trying to be, but you’re being a prude,” he pouts, and the contrast between humor and desire in this moment makes me laugh.
“I’m a what?” I ask him, knowing what’s coming up next.
“You’re a pr-fuckkkkkk.” I slide my body down, taking his cock. All. The. Way.
His hands lift up to support my legs as I start to rock against him.
His cock, like an iron rod, drives deep into me without a breath of friction, like it belongs there.
I try to focus on his face to stop from coming too fast when it’s all I want to do.
“Fuck me, baby. God, just fuck me. Your pussy feels so good on my cock,” he murmurs, almost incoherent, his head thrown back, eyes closed.
My nails dig into his skin, hot and sweaty under my palms. I want every inch of him, skin, breath, cock, come.
My hips rock faster, rotating around in circles, feeling the tip of him reach places made only for him. God, it’s even better than I’ve imagined it could be.
He opens his eyes and stares at me. “Take off your nightie, I want to see you.”
Brad’s fingers play with my stomach as I pull the silk fabric over my head. His gaze makes me nervous and I cover my breasts with my hands.
“No, don’t. Don’t ever hide yourself from me,” he whispers, pushing my hands away.
“Lean back.”
And I do, bracing my hands on the bed as he starts to fuck me again. Faster now. His hands grip my hips as he pushes back on the bed and then up into me. My breasts start to bounce, and it’s almost painful, which spurs me on.
“God , you are so fucking sexy. I’m going to come on those tits in the very, very near future.”
I arch to meet his every thrust and it feels like he’s drilling through me each time his cock slides into me. My body soars toward an epic climax.
“Brad, oh God, Brad, I’m going to come.”
“Fuck. Come, come, I need to hear it, see it.” And he moves his finger to press against my throbbing clit.
That’s all I need to send me over the edge.
I can’t help but scream his name as my body shakes with my orgasm. I can’t breathe, though I’m gasping. I feel his fingers, unforgiving on my clit, and it extends my climax, my body a slave to the waves of pleasure.
“Come, baby, come.” I can hear him encouraging me, and the words are no less stimulating than his finger, still pressing against my clit.
I push myself up to face him. I can feel the sweat drip down the sides of my face. His eyes are glazed, and I wonder how hard he’s trying not to come himself. I squeeze my pussy on his cock and the breath chokes him.
“Fuck. Do that again,” he commands me.
I squeeze again, harder this time.
“One more time,” he gasps.
I squeeze again, this time reaching under me to graze my fingernails along his balls.
“Oh God, oh God.” He grips the blanket and pushes himself into me, faster and faster and faster. I feel his balls tighten and I know it’s coming.
I lean over and lick up the middle of his chest even as he thrashes under me. I kiss his neck and whisper, “Come. Now.”
And as if his body ignores its master and wants to please me, his whole torso tightens and he grunts. And again, he shakes, then freezes. “Oh fucking, fucking, fucking hell. Oh God, Butter!” he yells, and I know as he’s coming he’s thinking only of me.
I lie down on his chest as it heaves up and down. His heart beats so hard, I can almost see the rapid thump against his ribcage. The last of his orgasm jerks through him, his cock twitching inside me.
I kiss his sternum over and over and over. And I can feel him start to soften, spent, empty.
“Fuck,” he rasps.
“Fuck. Yes,” I reply. His hand comes up to stroke through my hair, and it tickles and sends a cold tremor down my spine that I love.
“What just happened?”
“I don’t know, I thought we were fucking the universe.” I giggle, and I feel him sigh, the breath leaving his lungs.
“Fucking you is much more fun.”
“How romantic,” I tease him.
“I try.”
“Try harder.”
“I’m not going to be ‘harder’-ing anything just quite yet.”
I giggle again, feeling quite lightheaded.
“Hey,” he murmurs. It’s soft, but it vibrates through his torso and against my cheek.
“Yeah?”
“I meant it.”
“What?”
“You’re my muse.” The words have the same effect on me that they had when he whispered them minutes ago.
They make my heart take flight.
“Shut up,” is my appropriate response.
“Yeah, I know. Romantic.”
I lie back down on his chest and wonder why I ever have to leave this place.
***
“Mommy, Mommy,” Ben calls out, and it’s the first thing I hear.
“Oh, fuck!” is the second, and then a loud thud on the floor.
“Wait! Don’t-” I yell, a little too late.
“Mommy! OH!…and Brad! Mommy, why is Uncle Brad sleeping on the floor?”
“Oh, um, he was having a sleepover with Mommy.”
“Oh, did he eat a whole jar of jellybeans too?”
“No. Wait, what?”
“Ahem, knock knock,” I hear Cadence’s voice call out from the hallway.
“Er, yeah, hi.”
“I’ll, um, yeah… hey, Ben? Want to come back over to the other bus and have breakfast?”
“Sure! Can I have some more jellybeans?”
“Um…remember how we said that was a secret?”
“Oh, I forgot!”
“It’s okay…but, yeah, let’s let your Mommy and Uncle Brad finish their sleepover and we’ll come back in a while.”
“Okay! Bye Mommy!” Ben waves goodbye to us and takes Cadence’s hand.
“Thanks, Cadence,” I say, relieved and embarrassed in equal measure.
“No problem. Just consider it a favor,” she chuckles.