My body relaxed and then tensed up as he traced the head and the shaft with his agile tongue. He moved his hands around back and expertly tickled the sensitive flesh with his nimble fingers. I clenched my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut, feeling my orgasm course through my entire body.
I was overwhelmed and my knees buckled, but Wesley caught me against the counter. He looked in my eyes and smiled softly, kissing me lightly then deeply. He lowered his pants and tickled the solid shaft. I knelt down, licking enough to lubricate, then stood up and stepped out of my jeans and boxers.
Wesley slid his hands around the back of my thighs and pulled me into him, hard against his stomach. “Up you go,” he whispered and lifted me up against the counter. I grasped the edge to keep my balance and Wesley stepped between my knees and pulled me forward to the edge of the counter. “Open your legs a little more,” he said quietly and I obeyed, lifting my knees and wrapping my ankles around his waist.
He looked at me, straight in my eyes, and then pressed his way in. He always looked directly in my eyes just as was going to enter me, and that expression was the sexiest I had ever seen. I liked making love with him face-to-face, just to see that look, even though it sometimes caused me hip and back strain. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer, feeling his heat imprint inside me like a furnace.
He rocked his hips and I gasped with each thrust, taking him as deep as I could. He leaned forward and kissed me, taking me in his hand and rubbing the tip with his palm. I moaned and cried out, but Wesley quieted me with kisses. As he neared crisis, he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.
“Wes… ley, I’m gonna….”
“It’s okay. I gotta wash these anyway,” he grunted, as he pushed into me to the root.
My back arched reflexively, and I came hard on the front of his shirt. The milky white contrasted with the dark blue and I blushed down to my toes, feeling strangely embarrassed. Wesley came moments later, erupting inside me, pulling me close and hugging me tight.
When he withdrew, I felt loose and damp. I slid off the counter and Wesley caught me in his arms. He kissed me once, then again, and whispered, “I love you.
“I’m gonna go change. Why don’t you clean up and I’ll finish making dinner,” he suggested, slapping my backside.
I nodded and went to the bathroom to wash up. Wesley flipped an omelet in the pan when I came back. He scooped it out of the skillet and gave it to me on a plate. I toasted some bread and we sat down on the sofa to eat and watch TV.
“Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Jeremy’s having a Halloween party next Saturday. His folks are going out of town, so he’s gonna have some people over,” Wesley said, setting his empty plate down on the coffee table.
“That sounds like fun,” I said, taking the last bite of my omelet. It was really good; Wesley always said that he couldn’t cook, but he was really good at making breakfast foods. He wanted to get a charcoal grill because he said he could grill anything, but we didn’t have the extra money yet.
“But there’s a catch: he won’t let us in unless we dress up.”
I knew Wesley wasn’t the type to dress up for Halloween, but I thought it would be fun. I had to think of a costume for him that he wouldn’t object to. “Have you thought about what you wanna be?” I asked with a grin, secretly enjoying his discomfiture.
“No, but I thought about what I want you to be.” I knew the look on his face too well. “Two words: French maid.”
“One word: veto,” I answered, rolling my eyes and shaking my head. I folded my arms on my chest resolutely.
“But come on! You would look so good!”
“No chance. If you want a French maid so much, you dress up as one!”
“But I don’t have the legs for it.”
“And I do?” I argued. “Or have you forgotten that I’m a guy too?”
“That’s what would make it so hot!”
I sighed and looked at Wesley right in his eyes. He knew he was defeated, but he was still trying. I closed my eyes and resigned myself to the fact that my boyfriend was a pervert. He was lucky he was so cute.
“No. No no no. But how about this? You can be a dog and I’ll be your master. You can get ears and a tail and those slippers that look like paws, oh, and a collar and leash. Then you just follow me around and obey my every command,” I suggested, figuring that I should get him back for the French maid idea. But he actually seemed to be considering it.
“You be a cat and I’ll be a dog,” he offered, looking at me with a smile at the corner of his lips. I thought about dressing up like a pirate or Dracula, but this wasn’t so bad; it might be fun. “You know, Catwoman; Halle Berry or Michelle Pfeiffer, I’ll let you pick.”
I looked at Wesley and pinched his cheeks hard. “Why do you always have to go there? You’re such a pervert!”
“I was just kidding!” Wesley moaned, batting my hands away and rubbing his cheeks. “Ow.”
“You deserve it, you big dummy.”
“All right. We’ll go as a cat and dog and you can be any cat you want,” he conceded, threading his hand around my shoulder. “You can be whatever you want as long as you’re with me.”
Chapter 32
I WORE a black turtleneck, blue jeans, and black slippers that looked like paws. I had a long black tail pinned to the back of my pants and black cat ears glued to a
