“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he said into my neck.
At this, I caught his chin, pulling him away from the crook in my neck so I could look into his eyes. I knew he could resist me if he wanted to without so much as batting an eye, but he went with the motion.
“Yes, Ido,” I said with all the seriousness that I could muster. “The same way I knew about your knot. So, when I saybite me, I promise you from the bottom of my heart that Imeanit.”
I didn’t have a word for the sound Paul made in response, but it sure did make my brain light up like a Christmas tree when he captured my lips again. Biting. Bruising. Soothing. Caring. It was everything all at once, and I enthusiastically let myself get carried away in the deluge.
Caught up in the thrill of it all, and the rush of happy emotions, I didn’t even realize his mouth was once again at that special spot in my neck until his teeth sank in. It hurt, but in such a delicious way. It wasn’t like the various bumps and bruises from the funeral, or the hideout. It was something perfect and precious between the two of us.
I knew that some people wouldn’t get it, but that was okay. They didn’t need to. The important thing was that Paul and I got it, and he understood me better than anyone walking the earth.
Head tilted back, I melted into him until it was all too much, and then I began to tear off his clothes. It was a clumsy attempt, my coordination tanking in a direct inverse to how fucking turned on I was, but it did get a chuckle out of Paul. He took a step back, and I might have outright rioted at the loss of contact if he hadn’t captured my chin in his hand and lifted my head so I was looking him in the eyes.
“You want this?” he asked, his question more rasp than actual words.
“Yes,” I answered, equally breathless and twice as desperate. “Please.”
“Then be a good girl and come get it.”
Although this wasn’t our first time, or even our second time, at the rodeo, thiswasthe first time where we were allowed something other than just blowing off steam and finding comfort in each other. This was playful. This was for fun. This was because wewantedto and not because we couldn’t admit the actual nature of our feelings and could only find an excuse in pure lust.
And I, for one, was thrilled with the change.
I slid from the table, grateful that I had chosen to splurge on such a plush carpet as my knees pressed against it. With hands trembling from excitement and nerves, I undid his slacks and pulled them down enough for me to free him from his briefs.
I might have yanked them all the way down in my eagerness if he wasn’t still wearing the knee pads from the skate park. But since I didn’t have the wherewithal or the patience to unbuckle them, they and my birth control were going to be our protection for the night.
Nice, I’ll have to steal these to walk around in later! Girlfriend tax and all.
Oh, so we’re his girlfriend now?
Shut up, brain! This isn’t your time.
He shuddered as I curled my fingers around him, and I couldn’t help but feel powerful with how much I could affect him. I’d heard various friends of all genders throughout my life mention that they didn’t like giving head because they found it demeaning, but there were fewer things that made me feel as mighty in the bedroom. The very idea that I could make Paul, such an intelligent and composed man, become entirely undone with something as simple as my mouth was a heady one.
I didn’t waste any time. I flicked my tongue over his dripping head, enjoying the gasp he let out and the way he gripped the top of my skull. At first, the pressure was barely there, and I could tell that he was trying to be a gentleman. I wasn’t in the mood for that. There would be times for gentle, sweet, and tender, but not now.Now was for raw, for real.
I gripped his hand, forcing it down onto my scalp, and he got the message. Once I was sure he had a good hold, I thoroughly laved him with affection, making sure he was properly slick and my mouth was warmed up. While I wouldn’t call myself a throat goat, I was both experienced enough to know things worked better when he was pre-lubricated, and horny enough not to care if he wasn’t quite as wet as he could be.
So yeah, maybe I rushed it a little, but it was hard to care as he filled my mouth, his grip on my head holding me steady as my nails bit into his thigh. Maybe it was a neurodivergent thing, maybe I was just a little perverted, but having to focus on breathing through my nose and having my jaw stretched so wide gave me a comfort I couldn’t find anywhere else. The world narrowed down to sensations and affection, to breathlessnessand fresh gasps of air. There was no anxiety. No worries about tomorrow, and no cyclone of thoughts that often had me going in a million different directions.
There was peace.
It wasn’t hard to get lost in it. My eyes closed as he plundered my mouth, my lips swollen and slick with spit. But it felt like it ended almost as soon as it began when he pulled me off him.
I started to protest, but he gently tilted my chin again, and I looked up at him with watery eyes.
“You did so good,” he whispered. “I was about to lose it.” He said it almost apologetically, but I thought it was one of the hottest things he could utter.
“Do it,” I challenged.
He shook his head. “I want to be inside you when I come.”
Sign me the fuck up!
“Okay,” I said.
Paul helped me to my feet. I got the impression that he might be about to sweep me up bridal-style again, but I was feeling too wild, too wanting, and too free for that. I was having so muchfunthat I wanted to indulge in the irreverence of it all.