In an uncharacteristic display, he shoves the fridge door closed. “You know what, fuck you. Just because I’ve had hookups doesn’t mean I can’t be in a serious relationship. So I’ve never had a steady girlfriend. Big fucking deal. Doesn’t mean I’m not capable of commitment. Just because I’m young, doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate an older woman, ok? And age really is just a goddamn number.”
His tirade over, he storms into the spare bedroom. It’s only about five steps, but he makes each one count, punctuating his exit with a slammed door. I have no idea what the hell that was all about, but he clearly needs to sleep it off.
“Everything ok?” Booker asks, stepping into the hall wearing just a towel.
“I don’t think so, but it’s nothing we’ll solve tonight. You ready for bed?”
“Yeah. Are you ready for me?” The shy, sweet look on his face does me in.
“Always. But especially tonight.”
“Why’s that? Is family drama a turn-on for you? Because that’s kinda weird.”
“No,” I assure him, striding into my room behind him, shutting the door, and turning the lock. I peel my pants down and toss them aside before lying face down on the bed. “I’ve been getting ready for you for hours,” I tell him.
The bed dips as Booker joins me, his hands gliding over my ass. “Is that…? Oh, fuck.”
“A plug? Yes. I almost didn’t put it in, but I wanted to be ready for you as soon as the night was over. Sitting at that table for hours was torture. Absolute, delicious torture.”
“You look so good,” he tells me, and I warm at his praise. His hands roam up and down my back, and I spread my legs wide, needing more contact.
“Touch me,” I beg.
Always one to follow the rules, Booker does as I ask. Tentative at first, he fucks me with the toy, and I hiss as it hits just the right spot. “You,” I plead. “I need you, Booker.”
“My fingers?” He asks.
I turn to look up at him. “No, babe. I want your dick.”
He sucks in a breath and closes his eyes as he wraps a hand around his cock. “Fuck, Ian,” he mutters.
“That’s exactly what I want,” I tease.
I remove the plug and grip the headboard as Booker kneels behind me, his cock nudging my ass as he breaches my entrance with lube-covered fingers.
“God, yes. Now, Booker. I need to feel you.” He grips my hips to steady himself and enters me. It’s so full, so thick, so heavy, and so damn good. “Fuck, babe,” I curse, relaxing as he pushes further in. “That’s good, Book. So fucking good.”
“Damn,” he curses. “You look so good with my dick in your ass.”
I push back just as he re-enters me and the sensation is dizzying. “Christ, Booker, that’s it. Fill me up.” We set a steady rhythm, and I’m gripping the headboard like my life depends on it.
Booker curls his big body around mine, and whispers in my ear, “You look so good taking me, Ian. Can I touch you?”
“Fuck yes,” I grunt, as he grips my cock, jacking me in time with his thrusts. I’ve pictured his hands on me, felt them, too, but nothing feels as good as this.
“God, Ian. I’m close,” he tells me, as I thrust back to meet him, so eager for his orgasm. He cries out as he spills into me and that’s all it takes. My orgasm unleashes on his hand, my stomach, and my sheets.
Minutes later, after I’ve found the energy to get up and clean us both off, I’m wrapped up in my boyfriend’s arms, drifting peacefully off to sleep.
Until a pounding fist on the wall jars me and I’m fully awake.
“Fuck you both very much. And for the record, you’re even louder than PJ and Katie.”
“You should have brought ear plugs,” I yell through the shared wall.
“I did,” he yells back.
I should probably feel bad, but I don’t. I feel very, very good.
