Page 48 of My Dead Wife's Ex Will Do
I keep sucking and swallowing and stroking inside him until his cock stops pulsing and his knees flop open. His legs drop bonelessly onto the mattress and I let his softening cock slip out of my mouth. I withdraw my finger gently, plant a kiss on the inside of each thigh, and duck into the bathroom to wash my hands and rinse out my mouth.
When I return to the bed, Victor’s splayed like a starfish amid the tangled sheets. Hearing him ask me for what he wanted and sucking him off were the most arousing things that have happened to me in years. He cocks an eyebrow and gestures at my hard, leaking cock.
“Want a hand with that?”
“Actually,” I say. I straddle his hips and sit back so that his spent cock nestles just behind my ass. Experimentally, I let my weight settle onto him. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah,” he says. His hands come to rest on my thighs.
I wrap my own hand around my cock. “I want you to lie there while I…” I stroke myself a few times and rub the palm of my hand over my slit to gather the fluid leaking from it.
“Can I keep touching you?” he asks. “Please?”
“Yeah,” I grunt.
He slides his hands up and down my thighs, stroking inside, on top, and outside them, while I stroke my cock. Slowly, to match my own slow strokes, but he doesn’t speed up when my hand does.
Long, slow strokes, as much as he can reach, from my hips to my knees, and all the while, his eyes are locked to mine. It’s not entirely comfortable, jerking off while he gazes at me like this, but I can’t look away and neither, it seems, can he.
Each stroke of his hands on my thighs winds me tighter and tighter and my own hand speeds up. His lips part and I briefly think about taking advantage of his talented mouth but I’m caught in some sort of spell between my hand on my cock, his hands on my thighs, and his eyes holding mine.
I’m getting closer and closer, my hand slick and hot, and sweat beads up at Victor’s temples. The muscles in his thighs are clenching and shifting underneath me but his hands are still gentle and firm on my skin.
“Come for me, Jason,” he says, and it’s not an order, like I’ve given him. It’s a plea, a request, and the very softness of it is what tips me over. I unload all over his chest and stomach, still staring into his eyes, crinkled the tiniest bit at the corners.
When I’m done, panting and spent, he bends his knees and plants his feet on the mattress, which tips me forward. I break the fall with my hands braced on either side of his shoulders, to avoid landing in the mess I’ve made, and he slides his hands up my back, over my shoulders, and cups my face.
“I—,” he starts, then closes his mouth and licks his lips. “I’ve been wanting to see that for a long time.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I just bend closer and kiss him. Over and over, until the inarticulate need to say things I can’t un-say recedes.
Eventually, I push off to fetch and wet a washcloth to clean him up. He lies there and lets me. We should get up and join the group for dinner, but by unspoken agreement, we don’t.
When I get back in bed, Victor turns onto his side and flaps a hand behind him. “I like being the little spoon.”
“What?”
He reaches back and grabs one of my arms and tugs me forward until I lurch against his back. He pulls my arm over his side. “Spoon me,” he demands.
Is this part of being a bossy bottom? I shift forward tentatively until I’m lying behind him. He bends his knees and mine automatically bend to tuck behind his. His back is warm and my not-entirely-soft dick settles between his ass cheeks. His hand encloses mine and he rests both against his chest.
“That was amazing, Jason,“ he murmurs sleepily. I kiss him behind his ear and relish the shiver that runs through him.
“Go to sleep, Victor.”
“Yes, Jay.”
I don’t even mind the nickname this time.
Twenty-Three
Victor
There’s another group hike on Thursday and then we have a brief, informal rehearsal of the wedding in the late afternoon. There’s not much to actually rehearse but we talk through who will stand where and where the guests will sit. Mostly through Luz, the resort’s wedding coordinator, since Kelsey is still barely talking to us. And this is apparently the first time Jason learns that I’ll be officiating the wedding.
“You what?” His mouth drops open and he looks truly shocked.
“Daddy got ‘ordained’ through one of those internet churches so that he can marry us.” She uses those finger quotes again and Jason’s brows draw together.
