I slid one hand down to his testicles, and cupped them ever so gently. And they were so soft, so heavy. Exactly how they’d looked. I massaged a little, marveling at the feel of them. My other hand, around his cock…I did what he’d said. Moved my touch harder, faster. Top to bottom as fast as my hand would move, letting my fist slide loosely around him. He was bridged off the toilet, shoulders and neck braced against the wall, feet on the tub, buttocks clenched, hips thrusting.
So hot.Soerotic. I was throbbing and tingling all over. My breasts ached, and my core was…I felt…damp, down there. So aroused. Watching him like this, it was…better than any fantasy, more erotic than any stupid, fake porn I’d ever watched. Because it wasmedoing it. Me making him like this.
He groaned again, and his butt slapped down on the lid and then he flexed so his erection speared through my sliding, jerking fist. “Now, Eva.” His eyes flew open and met mine, and he looked down at my hand, around him. “Watch.”
I watched. Oh, I was watching. There was no way I’d miss a single second of this.
“Slow, now.” Baxter’s hand touched mine, briefly, slowing my touching. “Slow and gentle, and don’t stop.”
I wanted to say something hot, say something dirty. Shock him—shock myself. “Come now, Baxter. I want to watch you come.”
“Ohhhh—FUCK!” He grunted the last word.
I was stroking his erection like I had at the beginning, softly, slowly, just one hand. He was tensed, bridged upward, pivoting into my touch. My other hand, my left hand, was cupping his balls, massaging them, and I felt them tense, twitch. His whole erection throbbed in my hand, and he went still, hissing through clenched teeth as if barely able to restrain an animal, leonine roar.
And then he came.
A thick white stream squirted out of him and splattered in a stripe up his belly, over his navel nearly to his diaphragm, a violent release. Immediately, as I kept stroking him, unable to keep myself from speeding up my touch in excitement, he spurted again, and again, more and more of his semen pooling on his belly, some of it dripping hot and wet and sticky over my knuckles. He groaned, and I kept touching him, and he throbbed in my hand.
I watched, enraptured, as he kept coming, and then finally relaxed, collapsing abruptly, gasping.
“Ho…ly…SHIT,” he gasped, breathless. “That was fuckin’ intense as fuck.”
I delicately and somewhat reluctantly set his penis down against his body, away from the mess. “I don’t know what that means, when you say things like that.”
“It means…” He seemed to have to force his eyes open. “It means, and I swear I’m not exaggerating, thatthatwas the best orgasm of my life.”
I felt pride and happiness and an erotic self-satisfied thrill shoot through me. “Really? Don’t lie to me.”
“I’ll never lie to you, Eva.” His gaze was fierce and genuine and open. “You touching me? Fuckin’…the hottest thing ever.”
“It was hot for me too,” I admitted.
“Yeah?” he asked, grinning widely.
“Yeah.” I grinned back. “That was the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced, too.”
“There’s more where that came from,” he said, heat and promise rife in his voice.
I glanced at the mess, the viscous white pool of his come on his belly. “There is? When?”
He chuckled. “I mean erotic experiences, actually, not just my come.”
“Yeah, well…I want more erotic experiences, especially if they feature your come.”
He met my gaze, grinning mischievously now. “Taste it,” he said.
I felt my heart stop. “What?”
“Taste it. Taste my come. Dip your finger in it, and taste it.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “So you know. You have to be curious.”
Damn him. I was…I really was.
5
