Page 55 of Newly Tied

Using every drop of self-control I had in me, I turned and left him, striding into the adjoining bathroom, which was, as I’d noticed when I first visited, utterly cavernous. Double sinks, a shower so big there were jets on three sides, a bench, and shelving, and beside it, a tub big enough for two. Across from that, where initially there’d been a vanity, he changed out for a closet with a full-length mirror, shelves, and an area where he hung his robes—one for when he got out of the shower, and one to lounge in. He was so much more organized than I was, but really, if I had a luxury-hotel shower, I could be as well. Above the sinks were mirrors on sliding doors that hid shelves where he kept more products than any one person needed. But that was a conversation for another day. At the moment, all I cared about was stripping down and standing in the jets of water. Finally, he walked in.

“What took you so long?” I croaked out since he came into the room naked.

I’d seen him with his shirt off before. I’d seen him in the morning with only his sleep shorts on. It was easy enough to connect the dots in my head and imagine how beautiful the man had to be, but it was not the same as seeing him completely, just sleek skin over hard, toned, chiseled muscles. And more than anything else, the long, thick, cut cock hanging between his granite thighs.

“I needed a moment before I followed you,” he admitted. “I’ve never even thought about going down on a man, but the way you were looking at me, I was thinking I would very much like to try.”

A thought occurred to me then. “Please tell me you have some kind of lube in this house.”

I loved the look I got, like I really was so stupid.

“It’s another reason I wanted to go to my place,” I told him. “I have that there.”

“Well, some women like it too, and I love it,” he said, his eyes heating fast. “So when desires match, I have to be ready.”

“Well, I have a favorite lube, and I’ll show you,” I said, soaping up his natural sea wool sponge that looked like it would be rough but was the softest thing I’d ever used on my skin. Whenever I showered at his place, I used one of them. He changed them out quite a bit. “Come in here already, will ya?”

He was inside fast, and I turned on him, watching the warm water hit his skin.

“You like looking at me.”

“Yes,” I husked, using the sponge on him, his chest, down his legs, circling back for his cock and balls, missing nothing, no crevice, before turning him around and bending him over, hands on the bench. I held open the cheeks of his firm, round ass.

“Is all this necessary?” he asked irritably. “We could be out already and in bed.”

“Out of the amazin’ shower?” I said with a chuckle, pushing him into the spray as I put more soap on the sponge and washed myself, watching as he did his hair, using all his good-smelling, ridiculously priced hair-care products. At home, I had a shampoo and conditioner in one. He’d been horrified when he saw it, and even more terrified when he read the ingredient list. Apparently, it was lucky I still had hair.

Squeezing the sponge, putting it back only because he liked things a certain way, I then turned off the water and shoved him out.

“Watch it,” he groused. “Do you know how many people die in—Del!”

The incredulous shout was because I dropped to my knees on his very thick bathmat, and in one seamless glide, took his semi-erect cock down the back of my throat.

“Holy fuck,” he groaned as I sucked and laved, using my teeth carefully, using my tongue sloppily, and making sure his balls were given attention, as well as his taint.

He had to grab hold of the towel bar, which was not your average, flimsy one put in with drywall screws. This one easily took his weight and kept him on his feet.

Once I had my hand around his club of a cock that was now fully hard and leaking, I made the suction powerful, my grip tight, and kept my rhythm steady.

“Del,” he said, my name sounding like a prayer as he tangled his fingers in my hair. “There’s a bed. I have a bed.”

Letting his dick slip out of my mouth, sliding over my lips, the long string of saliva was apparently too tempting not to touch from the way his fingers slipped into my mouth. Immediately, I sucked on them.

“I can’t keep standing.”

Rising fast, I grabbed his hand and a towel hanging on the shower-door bar, then led him back to his bedroom. I spread the towel quickly to cover the quilt so he wouldn’t get it wet, then toppled him back so his feet were on the ground, knees bent over the end of the bed as he parted his legs for me. He looked so good, offering himself as I knelt and swallowed his cock again.

I liked him moaning my name. It was a good sound and got better as I kept sucking, loving the silky feel of him, his taste, drawing the head of his cock further into my mouth.

His fingers returned to my hair, tugging but not hard. Not with any real insistence. “If you keep… Del.”

I knew. That fast, as ready as he was, his orgasm was thrumming under his skin, the yearning, the build nearly too much. He had watched me at first, seen my lips stretch around his cock, but now, he was arching up to meet me, lifting up off the bed at the same time I bore down.

“Fuck,” he swore and came hard, spurting in my mouth.

I gulped around him, drinking him down, not moving as he pushed into me, his hand fisted in my hair so I couldn’t move away.

It took long moments for his eyes to flutter open. “Jesus, that was so rough and hard and perfect,” he whispered, slowly relaxing his back, sliding over my tongue, slipping from my mouth as he lay panting under me.