But I mean, I can settle for a casual hookup and not get caught up. I think. Probably. I’ve had casual sex before, and it was never a big deal. Waylon might be slightly different, since I was crushing on him pretty hard before. But I think that’s gone. Probably. Mostly.
In my room, I sort through my drawer of things I don’t wear that often. I buy lingerie and silky things all the time because I can’t help myself, but the occasion to wear them rarely presents itself. But I’m thinking right now is the perfect time to wear something a little slutty. Not too over the top but definitely something that will make his jaw drop.
My fingers run over the deep-purple lace baby doll nightgown I bought last year. It’s sheer all over, very delicate, and just what the doctor ordered. I slip out of my party outfit and into the garment. When I stand in front of the mirror, my eyes trace over the hem—barely low enough to cover the kitty. My nipples can be seen through the lace, and I don’t mind it at all. In fact, the longer I look at myself, the sexier I feel.
I turn, inspecting my backside. My ass cheeks are not exactly all the way covered, and I’m not going to do a single thing about it. And I’m sure he won’t either. I unpin my hair and run my fingers through, letting the natural wavy pattern emerge and tossing it back and forth until I’m happy with the result. I rake it to one side over my shoulder and then grab the requested tentacle from my drawer. It’s also purple, with a swirly pattern, so we’re matching. It wasn’t part of the plan, but I’m rolling with it.
I exit my room and tiptoe over to his door. It’s not exactly a far journey, but my hand is still a little shaky when I knock despite being the picture of confidence like thirty seconds ago. It’s Waylon’s fault. This cowboy makes me nervous.
“Come in,” he calls through the door.
I turn the knob and step inside, my eyes finding his immediately, but I’m quickly distracted by his bare chest and sluttyglasses.Hello, Mama.He’s standing next to the foot of his bed wearing nothing but slick black boxer briefs and a smile. Well, and the glasses. But that smile. Pure sunshine. Just like always.Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Fuck, I’m breathing hard.
“Hello, darlin’,” he says, voice smooth as velvet as his eyes skate over every part of me.
“Hello, cowboy.” I take two more steps into the room and shut the door behind me. Then I walk close enough to drop my toy onto the bed and turn back to him. His eyes are still roaming.
“If I may say so, you look absolutely stunning,” he says, then bites his bottom lip.
“Back at you, tiger.”
Waylon closes the short distance left between us. He fingers the bottom hem of my gown and grazes the skin of my thigh. It’s the lightest touch, but it doesn’t stop the electric pulsing up through my center.
“Mmm, don’t call me tiger,” he whispers, his face dipping low toward the shell of my ear.
His warm breath tickles my skin, and he drags his fingertips higher up my leg. My next breath catches in my throat as the butterflies in the pit of my stomach start crashing into one another in a frenzy. “What should I call you, then?”
“You know,” he whispers. “Say it.”
I close my eyes and swallow. “Cowboy.”
“Mmm, that’s better,” he says. “I like this little thing you have on.”
“What do you like about it?”
“Mostly the fact that I can see through it,” he says, gently laughing. “But also how nicely it hugs your tits and how easy it looks to remove.”
“Get on the bed.” I point for emphasis before I lose my cool. I may be the picture of confidence on the outside, but that doesn’t stop my insides from being a little jittery.
He obliges me, stepping back and sliding onto the mattress. He leans back and adjusts his head onto the pillow. I crawl onto him, straddling him so his dick rubs against my pussy. There’s only a thin layer of material between us, and he grows harder the moment I grind against him.
Waylon’s hand skates up my thigh to grip my hip—not to control me but to communicate his approval.
“Let me taste you,” he says. He groans and bucks against me.
Who am I to deny his request? I crawl the rest of the way up his body, straddling him the entire time. He removes the pillow from under his head and lies back flat. My knees press into the mattress on either side of his face as I grip the headboard. There are only a couple of inches between me and his mouth, but I hesitate for a moment.
“Sit,” he says, his voice gruff, tone demanding.
I know a command when I hear one and submit, lowering myself until I feel his tongue slide over my clit. I suck in a sharp breath as his grip on my hips tightens. My back arches as I rock against him.
He sucks me into his mouth, flicking his tongue against me over and over again. He’s… skilled. Moans escape me freely, and my legs begin to shake. He alternates between licking me and fucking me with his tongue.
I run my fingers into his hair, gripping him for control as I fuck his face. He groans his approval as one of his hands slides up beneath my gown and cups my tit. He pinches my nipple between two fingers and I cry out.
“That’s right, darlin’,” he groans, muffled. “Come in my mouth.”
I grind against his flat tongue, my legs jerk as that delicious feeling in the pit of my stomach builds.
