Page 36 of Making His Bones

“No. This is about you, not me.”

He wiggled his eyebrows and looked clueless.

Taking him by the shoulders, I leaned him against the concrete wall. He started folding his hands in front of his crotch, so I took them and placed them on his hips.

“Okay,” he said, seemingly open for anything.

I had a vague idea of what I wanted to do. I remembered something from a sex manual when I was married.

I showered, pumping a bottle of soap into my hand and lathering up my shoulders and chest. I turned from side to side, giving Gray an eyeful of every angle. That’s when I slipped my palm beneath the bra cup and soaped up my boob.

“Ah,” moaned Gray, leaning farther into the wall. He rolled his head with anguish but was quick enough looking back to my breast.

Yes. It’s working.

His penis was lengthening and stiffening inside his khakis, dry this time as he lolled his curvaceous butt against the wall. Yes.

That I could affect him like this without even touching him emboldened me. Turning my back to him, I reached around and unhooked my bra, tossing it to the tiles. Now he could only imagine my breasts, pert and much larger than they should be for my height. I soaped them liberally, smiling to myself as I pictured his reaction.

Slowly, I turned. I looked up at him from under my lashes. My palms covered my boobs like a hand bra. Making a V with my fingers, I allowed one nipple to pop out.

“Oh, man!” he cried, and launched himself off the wall toward me.

I allowed this. He gathered me in his arms and crushed me to him. He didn’t care, like before, that the shower spray soaked him. Our kiss was wet and open-mouthed. I loved sucking on his lower lip. I touched the five o’clock shadow on his jaw. I even lifted a foot so I could snake an ankle around behind his, pressing my mound of Venus against his erection.

“Elektra,” he mumbled, brushing his fingers against the outer plumpness of my boob, “you are beyond amazing. Sexy, fine, glamorous, savage beautiful.”

I smiled against his lips.

Abruptly, I shoved him back against the wall as I fell to my knees before him. Rubbing my open mouth against his hard-on, I fondled his full ball sac through his khakis. He grabbed the back of my skull, but I shooed his hands away.

I did not want to be directed.

I mouthed his dick, taking vast enjoyment in the stiff, spongey feel of the crown, the glans. Just as I had in the indoor shower, he slapped his hands against the wall to steady himself. I adored the idea that he was at my mercy. I knew I had to tread lightly because of his odd porno history. But I was a girl. I wasn’t being paid. I loved him.

Boy, I was getting his dry pants all wet with saliva. What a drool monster! Well, who could blame me? He was a “snack,” as Unity would say. Moving my mouth up to his abdomen, I lifted his muscle shirt. Oh, Dios mío! I’d never seen such a carved, toned stomach, and I dove right in, twirling my tongue around his navel while my fingers worked magic on his belt buckle.

I was an animal, hungering for his cock. Sure, I’d sucked Brandon now and then, especially in the beginning. But his penis was small, white, and crooked, not a brazen, heavy tool like this. It was as though a flood of female hormones I’d never known I had overcome me, and I had one goal and one goal only. To taste the surge of his semen coursing down my throat.

I mouthed his meaty mons veneris as I tugged down his khakis. Soon I could view the majestic length and breadth of his cock, displayed beautifully under the thin layer of fabric of his briefs. I felt his hands flutter above my shoulders, and then he replaced them against the wall. I was glad he knew who was boss, and I plunged headfirst, sucking on his throbbing head through the cotton. I mouthed his ball sac, all hot and steamy.

“Elektra,” he kept begging.

I knew what he wanted. He wanted me to plunge that cock into my mouth and suck for dear life.

But I was going to play. I swear, his penis popped out pretty much on its own. Grabbing it at the base, I pretended it was a lollipop. Feeling very pornish, but in a good way, I licked it from base to tip. I looked up at his beautiful throat, his bobbing Adam’s apple that showed he was gulping dry air. I slid my hand between his thighs and allowed my fingertips to stray around his anus—a preview of coming attractions. I even dared to dive in and suck on his perineum. His groans vibrated all the way to my lips.

The whole time, my thumb rubbed his slit, using the few drops of semen that trickled there. He hissed in air when I took one of his balls in my mouth. It was my turn to moan and send vibrations throughout his sensitive pelvis. He cried my name more urgently this time, but I wasn’t nearly done. I swirled my tongue around his testicle and hummed a few bars of a cartoon song from my childhood.

He started panting.

I concentrated on his balls for a few minutes while corkscrewing my hand around the length of him. I opened and closed my mouth like a fish, tickling the goose bumped skin all the while. When I felt he was ready, I took the final plunge. I loosened my throat muscles and sucked his big dick as deep as I could. He cried so loud I was sure the neighbors heard.

That’s when I reached for the jar I’d placed near his feet. The lid was already loosened, just in case I had other things to attend to.

Swiping two fingers into the jar, I removed a blob of hagfish slime.

And rubbed it around his anus.