Friday, May 6, 2011
Wanderlust part 52 "All the parts are the good parts..."
TGI-fucking-F! God, I am thrilled. This has been the week to kick my ass in more ways than one. And ahead is a Mother's Day weekendstravaganza. Saturday is a party. Sunday is an early dinner thingy. There will be crab cakes and regular cakes and wine and presents and a general air of vegging out and enjoying family.
So, it's not 100% either way, but this might be my last blog until my bleary-eyed Monday morning rolls around. We shall see. Just in case it is, Happy Mother's Day to all you fine muthas and share your plans for the weekend in the comment section if you like.
by Sommer Marsden
“So what’d I miss?”
I turned over, brushing my hair out of my face, my brain still cloudy from sleep. Big blue eyes regarded me with the patience of a wolf stalking its prey.
“You’re awake,” I said.
His eyes were sharp and clear and completely lucid.
“So, I am. But you’re not.” He ruffled my hair, caught my hand in his and kissed it.
“Do you feel better?” The relief was so evident in my voice it was damn near embarrassing.
“I could do with some solid food, a huge cold soda, a ten hour shower and a good fuck, but yeah.”
I smiled at him, touched the three days worth of stubble on his chin, his cheek, his scalp. “We can arrange all of that.”
“Speaking of a good fuck. It smells like sex in here. Did you take advantage of me, Snowflake?”
Inside me that little piece of my heart twisted but the rest of me blushed and laughed out loud. “Um…about that. You insisted. I swear you did. But just as we got to the good part—well, for you, I’d already had two good parts you…um…”
“Went out like a light?”
“Yeah. But I swear I didn’t you know…”
“I’m teasing you, Really. I remember insisted, pleading, begging you to have your way with me.” He pulled me to him and I put my cheek on his chest. He kissed my hair. His arm around me felt more protective, more possessive. More there. Did he remember? “It’s just a few minutes after that I…”
“Lost track,” he laughed. Most of the rasp in his chest was gone. His breathing seemed clear. Thank god.
“You dozed off. Fell right asleep. Apparently, I was so very exciting that I put you in a coma…” Now I was teasing him and he squeezed me hard.
“I’d flip you over and do you right here—spanking first—for even implying that you’d put me to sleep…”
“But I kind of smell and am starved and still feel like a good stiff wind would blow me away.”
“I’ll go find us food and you take a shower.”
“You take a shower with me and then we go find food together.”
“But we can kill two birds with one st—“
“You take a shower with me and then we go find food. Together.” He was leaving me no room for argument.
“And then…” I shook my head and sighed.
“Get me the fuck out of Nebraska! The state is ruined for me!”
Johnny tossed his head back and laughed. The vibration worked through me, through the bed. It was the best sound I’d heard in days.
Yes, yes, yes! We had shower sex. His skin was cool and only a bit clammy and I had every intention of behaving and just helping him get clean. A big man like him after several days of sweating, sleeping and very little food, drops a good amount of weight fast. I’d say Johnny lost ten at least, maybe more. And I only meant to touch the prominent muscles of his abs as I washed him.
I failed. I touched them. I stroked them. And when I found his cock in my hand and me soaping him and him watching me I blushed.
“Did you miss me, Really?” he cupped my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes.
“Do you want me?”
“Yes. Always. You should know that by now, but you’re—“
“Exhausted, beat, too thin, starved and still not all the way clean. But I have a bigger problem.”
“What?” It wasn’t a word. It was a little puff of air escaping me.
“I can’t think of anything else but burying myself in you balls deep, sweetheart.”
My pussy flexed at his straight forward words. Gripped up around nothing, demanding attention. My nipples spiked and he smiled, very aware of my body’s automatic response. Johnny circled one nipple and then the other with a broad fingertip and bent his head to suck the right nub of flesh into his mouth.
I arched up to meet him, unable to even gasp from the goodness because every speck of air was lost to me. I was drowning in my need for him.
He turned me under the spray, letting the water beat down on us for a moment and then to my surprise, he cut the water.
He dropped a towel on the floor, climbed out, and promptly sat. “Didn’t want a soapy cock for this,” he said, addressing my confusion. “And I’m still too weak to do all the heavy lifting. But I can sure as shit sit here while a pretty girl has her way with me. Again.”
I smiled, standing there on the tiny cheap hotel bathmat. Water dripping off of me and on to him. Water beading on my skin like little bits of liquid lust. He took my hand and I lowered myself, his hands came up to grasp my hips and he kissed me, hot and eager. It was the kiss of a man who had not been kissed in a while and truly craved one.
“And for the record,” he said, softly against my lips.
“About what you said earlier…”
“All the parts are the good parts as far as I’m concerned. All the parts of us being together are good parts.”
“Good,” I said. “Good, good, good…” I whispered. That one word had become my mantra as I moved on his lap.
I parted my lips to him, opened my mouth easily, met his seeking tongue with mine. When he pushed the head of his cock to my slick entrance, I sucked his tongue hard like it was his dick.
“Fuck. You are a cheater, you know that? Tricky, tricky.” He thrust up hard under me—an aggressiveness I had not been expecting—and filled me completely.
“I missed you,” I said again. It felt good to tell someone that and mean it.
I think I’d only ever said those words sincerely to my mother and Bren. Now Johnny. I had three people I loved. But that was my little secret.
“Did I say pretty girl? I meant stunning. Beautiful, doesn’t even cover it so we’ll go with stunning. You make my head hurt you’re so gorgeous.” His hands tangled in my hair and I started to move faster.
I rolled my body over his, holding his shoulders, grinding and swirling my hips so that he was both thrusting into me and I was pounding my clit to the hardness of his pelvic bone. I gripped him so hard I left indentations from my nails when I came. He had my nipple in my mouth and he bit it hard and fast—a searing lightning bolt of perfect pain that coursed through me—and I surprised us both by coming again. Immediately.
“You did miss me,” he murmured.
“I talked to you,” I said. “I talked to you the whole time.” And I had. When he was only semi-lucid I would talk to him so he knew I was there. I didn’t want him to think he was alone.
“I know. I heard you. The constant music of your voice when I was out and in and out and in.” His fingers curled hard to the flare of my hips and the swell of my ass. He gripped me so hard it nearly hurt and then he moved a bit faster—his rhythm chaotic and urgent now. He was going to come. It was all I wanted. To watch him come.
“I talked to you because it made me feel useful. Like I was needed. Like I was important.”
He shut his eyes tight, looking a bit torn, a bit beat-up and beautiful.
“You are needed, Really,” he scolded. He held me tighter, moved faster and as his eyes flew open and he grunted with his own release he said, “You are very, very important.”
And I started shaking like a leaf in a high wind.