She’s over my shoulder in a matter of seconds, slapping my ass as I carry her easily down the hall. Because I know which rooms belong to the boys, I know which is hers. I kick the door open gently, but don’t fuss with the lights. After lowering her to the bed, I close the door and lock it, but ask if it’s okay since Archie’s home and I don’t know how good he sleeps.
Clara June assures me it’s fine, and then she gets onto her knees, tugging off her shirt and bra.
“Pants and panties too, sweetheart,” I urge her, kicking off my boots so I don’t track them onto her bed.
She rolls onto her tailbone and tugs off her pants and underwear, then sits up straight, completely nude. Soft and full in all the places and ways that make my mouth water and my cock hard, I let out a little groan as I stroke my fingers over my mustache, taking in all that is mine.
“You are the most beautiful fucking woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, Clara June, and that ain’t a line.”
She looks down at herself, pressing her palm to her hip, and her other hand to her belly. “I never had stretch marks with the first two. Then with Archie I just… blew up. And I couldn’t lose all the weight, and I couldn’t get rid of all the scars.” Something tells me these concerns are in her head because of Troy.
“I love your body,” I tell her, meaning every letter, every damn syllable of that sentence.
Her brows rise. “I think I’d love yours, if I ever got to see it.”
I take off my shirt and toss it aside, stroking my hand through my hair.
Clara June lets out a noise, something between a plea and a moan, and I love the way it sounds. “I’m not good at being coy,” she says, tugging the elastic from her hair, her bun spilling into gorgeous waves down her chest and back. “I want to see you naked, Dean. I want you to make love to me.” She crawls on her hands and knees to the edge of the mattress, nearly short circuiting my brain with the sway of her heavy tits and the swing of her ass. “Fuck me, Dean. Please.”
I want to. I really want to. But, she was right when she said we should move slowly. And it’s not just for the boys. I scratch the back of my head and dig down deep, clenching my ass and tightening my abs to hopefully detract some of the blood headed toward my already hard cock.
“I want to, Clara June. I wanna get inside you so bad, Mama, trust me, I do. But remember what you said about moving slowly?” I say, reaching out to cup one of her tits. She moans when I touch her, my responsive little goddess.
She nods her head. “That was when I thought… my box was broken, and I was unsure what was happening between us.” She pouts. “Dean, I’m ready… I’m?—”
“Right now, I just want to make you feel good, Clara June. And if we start having sex, you’re gonna start wanting to make me feel good, wake me up with your mouth, slide your hands down my pants every chance you can. Because we feel the same way about each other, I think, and I know that's how I feel about you.”
Another hot kiss, another round of desires to chase. “But I don’t want you to focus on me. I want to focus on you, because you deserve that, Clara June. You deserve to be the center of my focus for a while.” Slipping my hands under her arms, I pull her to her knees. I dip my head to find a kiss waiting on her lips. “So now, my beautiful, sexy little mama, do I have your permission to make you come?”
She nods her head, and then I flop down on my back and waggle my eyebrows. “C’mon now, ride this mustache while I show you just how sweet you taste.”
Clara June braces her hands on her thighs, eyes wide, a little smile at her lips. She wants to, but she never has, and she’s self conscious, and I can see that written in her face.
“Climb up here and have a seat before I lose my mind,” I tell her, licking my lips.
Leaving reluctance behind, Clara June does as she’s told and climbs over me, coming to rest on my face. Hovering above me, I take a deep inhale of her pussy, my cock screaming between my legs. I kiss her inner thigh. “Hold the headboard and stay quiet, for Archie.”
She nods and then I grip her hips and force her to saddle up, positioning her sweet cunt over my open mouth, my tongue swiping through her the moment she settles in. “Ohmygod,” the sentiment rushes out of her, all one word, breathy and sexy, and I reach up with one hand and pinch her nipple. A small warning to stay quiet.
Mouth at work, laving and sucking at the sweetest cunt I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting, I cannot believe the way she twitches and moans above me, how swollen and eager to come she is. To think she thought she was broken, and to see how easily she falls apart for me. It makes my chest ache.
She slaps at my shoulders, my name nothing more than a whispered plea. “Dean.”
I drag my tongue up her slit and circle her clit a few times before slowly sucking it, letting my teeth graze the sensitive, pink skin. She wiggles her hips, she claws and gasps, and after what can only be two minutes, she unravels.
Warm and so goddamn wet, she tightens and releases, coming in quick, potent waves. Her stomach knots with muscle, but her hands return to the headboard as she writhes against my face, nearly suffocating me as she rides out every last wave and drop of her orgasm.
When she’s nothing more than a sweaty, trembling mess, she climbs off me and flops down next to me. Her hands immediately cover her face and I tug them away.
“You must think no one has ever touched me with how fast I come,” she whispers, and I realize now that she must think it’s embarrassing that she unravels for me so quickly. At some point, someone has told her or made her feel like coming fast is bad.
“I think it’s so goddamn hot how fast you come for me. It makes me feel like I was made to please you, like I exist to pull your threads and make you unravel.” I brace her legs around my shoulders, and kiss her patch of soft curls. “You ready for another?” I lick and kiss her clit, not letting her shirk away, though she attempts.
“Dean!” she whisper-hisses, laughing quietly as she attempts to peel my fingers from their grip on her waist. “No,no, I can’t,” she breathes, shaking her head. But I don’t miss the way her eyes snap shut when I dust my mustache over her clit, then press my lips there after, soothing, teasing.
“You can’t? Oh yes you can. You can give me another, and you will. You’ll give me as many as I want, with my name on your lips, because you, mama, are mine.”
Taking her breasts in her hands, she relinquishes the fight, sinking into the pillows with a shuddery moan. “Oh my God, yes, Coach, yes,” she breathes out, and the use of that word, that term, that nickname… Coach.
