At least, I think so.
But maybe he’s not. Maybe he’s actually an ancient god brought back to life. It could be possible because he certainly feels like it under my fingertips. In my palm. In my mouth.
When he breaks away, I tear my eyes open and take a second to drink him in. God, he’s glorious. Layers of rippling muscle. Shredded. Everywhere. And he’s huge. Everywhere. He’s easily two or three times my size, and he looks even bigger naked.
I continue stroking my hand down his cock and watch how his eyes close. His head leans back, and his tongue slowly runs along his bottom lip. The hunger erupting in my belly as I watch the bliss roll over him is so raw that I just about forget how to breathe. I do it again, stroking my hand down his shaft and letting my thumb linger and circle the tip. He groans, and his hips jack into my hands.
This guy is my boss. He’s powerful. The head of a massive company. He’s rich, and he’s used to being in charge. In the office, I’m sure some people are actually afraid of him. Here though, he’s just Philippe. He’s just a person. A person I am lucky enough to get to be with. A person I fit with in a way that is way too right. It’s scary how we fit, how our bodies fit. It has to just be our bodies because nothing else can fit. It’s too dangerous to think like that.
I stroke him again. Drawing it out. Dragging out the pleasure. Philippe groans. “If you keep that up, I’m going to pick you up and throw you on the bed, and…and torture you until you beg me to let you come.”
“Oh,” I purr, the coyness in my voice surprising me. I’m not a coy person. I don’t even think I’m actually very sexy. No one has ever threatened to torture me until I begged to come. As it is, my ovaries are already begging. My hand squeezes a little too hard, and Philippe makes a strangled noise. I think it’s a good thing.
“Oh?”
“Oh.”
This is real. We’re really doing this, and I’m here. I stayed. I stayed, and now we’re naked together. Touching each other. Philippe’s hand sweeps over my breast. He gently rolls my already taut nipple in his fingers, and now I’m the one letting out a hiss of pleasure and throwing my head back.
“Do you want more? My tongue? My fingers?”
I want all of the above and the option for his cock too, but I know we can’t take things that far. No matter how empty I feel. No matter how much I want to.
“Mmmmm,” I mumble. I think it means yes. I mean, it definitely means yes. It means yes, and I can’t actually say the words, but he gets it. Just in case he has any questions about it though, I set out to banish his doubt.
I somehow have enough sense to arch into him. I miss his lips completely and instead get a whole mouthful of his jaw when I go in for the kiss, but he doesn’t seem to mind. The growl he lets out intensifies, and he does something wonderful to my nipple with his fingers that send sparks shooting all throughout my body.
His hands drop to my waist, and since we’re in the water—although even if we weren’t, I think he would have just as much strength because he’s so freaking huge and so strong—he lifts me easily and sets me down gently on his lap. I straddle him immediately, taking his cock between my legs. I keep him away from the no-zone where I absolutely can’t let him go, but I can’t help arching my hips and grinding a little. And by a little, I mean I pretty much hit my throbbing clit just right, so now I want to beg myself to let myself come.
Philippe tangles his hands in my hair and captures my mouth, drinking down the sounds of my pleasure. My entire body bursts into goosebumps, which is pretty crazy considering the temperature of the water we’re in. I arch forward and let my hard as rock nipples scrape across his hard as rock chest.
Holy. Shit. On. A. Fucking. Stick.
I’m almost relieved we can’t actually do this because his cock feels so big throbbing between my legs every time I gyrate my hips and let him slide past me harmlessly—a wet kind of dry humping I guess—that I think he might actually do some real damage if I let him inside, which is not going to happen. Ever. Because we can’t. Because I can’t, and because Granny warned me.
Except her warnings all seem very far off.
All drowned out in the ache and need that is tightening, churning, and spiraling deep inside me. Drowned out in each throb and thrust of his hard cock between my legs. Drowned out in every throb of my clit as the thick head of his cock brushes past it.
“Bed,” I pant into Philippe’s mouth. His tongue sweeps over my lower lip, and he grazes his teeth over it as he pulls away.
“Alright.”
He picks me up and stands so fast that I wrap all my four limbs around him and cling to him on instinct. He moves easily through the waist-deep water and steps out of the Jacuzzi like I wasn’t spider monkeyed around him. Our wet skin is slippery. Slick. Which makes me think of other things that are slippery and slick. Spots between my legs. Actually, it’s all I can think about.
