Stage Dive 02 Play(82)
Enough playing around.
I guided the head of his cock into my mouth and sucked hard. Hands dug into my wet hair, holding on tight. My tongue flicked over the top of him, teasing the sensitive rim before dipping below to rub against his sweet spot. I took him in deeper, sucking hard, again and again. His hips shifted, pressing him farther into my mouth. I’d never perfected the art of deep throating, sorry. Mal made me want to learn. Something told me he wouldn’t be adverse to some practice time. With one hand I cradled his balls, massaging. The other stayed wrapped tight around the root of his penis, stopping him from going too far and gagging me. But I took him as far as I could, pulling back to lavish him with attention from my tongue. Tracing the thick veins and toying with the slit.
The fingers in my hair drew tight, stinging ever so slightly. But it was fine. It was all good. I fucking loved being able to do this to him.
I drew him in deep and sucked hard, working him. He came with a shout, pumping into my mouth as far as my hand would let him. I swallowed.
And they said romance was dead.
He stood, panting, arms hanging slack and eyes closed. Fuck, he was perfect. I slowly stood, my numb knees shaky. After oral, there always seemed to be this moment of shyness. Maybe I should have been smug, thrown in some swagger. There wasn’t really the space for it in the shower, however.
Mal opened his eyes and stared at me, his arms going around my shoulders. He drew me in, placing soft kisses on my face.
“Thanks,” he said, the word muffled against my skin.
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m sorry about your parents, pumpkin. So fucking sorry.”
My fingers tightened on his hips, involuntarily. One day, I’d stop reacting like that and I’d let it go. “I’m sorry about your mom.”
“Yeah.” He rubbed my arms briskly, smooched the top of my head. “We need to think happy thoughts. And order a shitload of bacon and eggs. And waffles too. You like waffles?”
“Who doesn’t like waffles?”
“Exactly. Anyone who doesn’t like waffles should be put in the fucking penal system. Lock ’em up and throw away the key.”
“Absolutely.”
“No more sad stuff today,” he said, voice gruff.
He picked up the soap and started washing me, paying particular attention to my breasts.
“There’s just one more thing I think we should talk about,” I said, as he worked hard at rubbing some imaginary spot from my left nipple. It felt rather nice, truth be told.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Well, about what you said last night when we got back here. About starting a family.”
His hand paused, covering my right breast. “Starting a family?”
“Yes. You said you were really serious about it. You even threw all the condoms out the window and flushed my pill down the toilet.”
“That’s pretty damn serious. Did we fuck?”
I batted my eyelashes at him and gave him an innocent, if somewhat evil, look. “No. Of course not.”
The whites of his eyes blazed bright. “God … you nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Sorry.” I kissed his chest. “You did throw all of your condoms out the window. You couldn’t find where I kept my pills, though. Then you lay down and proceeded to name all of our children.”
“All of them?”
“I take it we’re no longer having a brood of lucky thirteen?”
His brows arched up. “Shit. Um, maybe not, huh?”
“Probably for the best. You were going to name three of them David. It would’ve gotten confusing.”
“How much crap did I speak last night, just out of interest?”
“Not too much. You fell off the bed a couple of times, trying to lick my toes, and then you went to sleep.”
He washed the soap off his hands and reached for the shampoo, massaging it into my hair.
“Ouch,” I gasped. “Gentle.”
“What’s wrong?”
“You don’t remember?”
He turned his face slightly and gave me side eyes. “What now?”
“You might’ve accidentally kicked me in the head ever so slightly when you fell off your drumming stool.”
“Oh, no. Fuck. Anne …”
“You didn’t hurt me. It’s just a little bump.”
Face drawn, he carefully washed the shampoo from my hair, starting in on the conditioner. He kept shaking his head, frowning hard.
“Hey,” I said, grabbing his chin. “It’s okay. Really.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
“You already did.” I placed my hand over his heart, feeling it beat against my palm. “You listened to my story without judging me. You told me what was up with you. Those two things are huge, Mal. They really are. We’re good.”