Fuckyeah, I want to do it.
I dive between her legs and pray I’m halfway decent, because this is something I’ve never done before. She’s bare except for a small, well-trimmed landing strip. I bury my face there and inhale her sweet, musky scent, taste her, listen to her and Carter telling me what a good boy I am and what to do.
When she comes, she’s grinding against my mouth and Carter’s whispering what a good boy I am in my ear. I can feel Carter’s erection rubbing against me through his shorts, but he holds me in place and orders me to do it again.
And again.
Turns out three is the magic number. That’s when Susa finally gasps with another sweet cry.
“Carter,” she says.
Carter eases back on the collar but tugs, making me sit up.
My face is covered with her juices, and I feel dazed, blissful, subspacey…
And I’m once again as hard as a rock.
Carter grins. “There’s our good boy.” He ruffles my hair. “Go get in the shower. I’ll be right there. Close the door so we don’t steam up the whole room, please.”
“Yes, Sir.” I do, after using the toilet.
He joins me a couple of minutes later. I hear him using the toilet first, then he steps into the shower with me, immediately pinning me against the wall and jerking me off with a wide smile on his face.
I thought maybe he’d take care of himself, too, but he doesn’t. When he turns so I can scrub his back, I notice he’s not hard anymore, but that’s not my problem, I guess.
I’m Sir’s good boy, and I’m slowly but surely learning to only worry about the things he tells me to.
Life feels better that way. Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve felt less anxious in most ways. Before all this, I’d be more than halfway to an ulcer this close to finals.
Now? No big deal. I mean, yes, I’m studying hard, but Carter and Susa constantly reassure me I know the material and that they are accurate outside barometers of how well I’m doing.
I’vegotthis.
Even better, I’ve gotthem.
* * * *
After Susa takes her shower, we head downstairs and have breakfast.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come to the party?” I ask. Dad and Katie invited them to join us.
“We’ll come by later,” Carter assures me. “I think you need some time with them. Cake’s going to be served at two. We’ll join you then and hang around with you and them until after dinner.”
“What are you guys going to do today?”
“I haven’t been to Vegas before,” Carter says. “We’re going to look around before lunch.”
“I want to go shopping,” Susa says.
Carter laughs and meets my gaze in the rearview mirror. “On second thought, maybe I’ll stay there with you and let her take the car. Save me, boy.”
I wasn’t expecting to laugh like that, but it was so atypically Carter that it’s hysterical.
From his smile, I can tell he’s pleased.
“No, you don’t get to run out on me,” Susa says. “Someone’s got to help me shop. I might need a new suitcase to carry everything in, too.”
“Oh, lord,” Carter mutters, but that, too, sounds playful.
