Page 130 of Paladin's Hell

“Leave it, I want to unwrap you,” he says with a smirk. “Fuckin’ never grows old, Doll. Never will.” He pulls my top off and throws it onto a chair.

As his hands go to the waistband of my jeans, I lightly slap them away. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you about taking turns?” While he’s still grinning, I slide up his tee, he bends so I can pull it off over his head. I’m distracted by the smooth hairless skin on his chest, letting my hands touch him, feeling goosebumps rise under my fingertips. I love how I affect him like this.

He undoes my bra, my breasts, such as they are, hang free. Without the padding, they’re not worth speaking about, but that doesn’t seem to matter to him. He weighs them in his hands, flicking his nails across my nipples, I breathe in sharply, as he continues to play, my arousal increasing at every slight touch.

I trail my hands downwards until they touch his jeans, undoing his button, lowering his zip, and then, ignoring his objection I sink to my knees, taking his pants down as I go.

His hands slide under my armpits, pulling me up. “But I want…” I start to protest.

“Got an idea, Doll. Get on the bed.”

His ideas are usually worth it. I do as he says, lying down on my back. He shuffles over, sits and removes his boots which I’d forgot. Then he makes swift work getting me completely naked. His appreciative stare heating me, making my stomach clench.

Then, instead of what I’m expecting, he lies down next to me on his back. “Sit on my face, Jay.”

What?I start to straddle him, he slaps my ass. “Other way around.” As my skin heats and in a good way, I wonder what it would be like if he ever did spank me. I’ve haven’t quite got the guts to ask. For now, I turn as he’d instructed, starting to get an idea of how this is going to work. I’m exposed as I hover over his mouth, and right in front of my face is a very erect cock.

He places his hand to my back as if I need further encouragement.

“Suck it like a lollipop.”

I bark a laugh. “A lollipop?”

“Shall I put the chocolate flavoured condom on? Or try the strawberry one instead?”

I giggle. Yeah. He might have gone back to that store. I wriggle my hips, it entices him. He pulls me down and licks my slit. I lower my head and take him in my mouth, his musky smell starting to drive me crazy, his salty taste better than any artificial flavour.

In the past few weeks we’ve started to learn each other’s bodies. I doubt I’ll ever be able to take him in all the way, I gag if I try. But he doesn’t seem to mind the combination of my hands and mouth. He knows exactly what pressure and action I need, becoming an expert at ramping up my desire fast. It doesn’t take long before my muscles are tensing, and I’m coming all over his tongue. His cock thickens, swells, and I can feel his balls tighten. For the first time, I stay put, even when he gives me a warning, my hands and mouth encouraging him on.

He comes, in my mouth. I try to swallow fast, hating the taste while it feels wrong to admit it. I raise my head, put my hand to my mouth, and hope I won’t be sick. That wouldn’t be particularly romantic. His strong arms lift me off him, he leans to get something, then passes me the bottle of soda I had been drinking.

There’s a smile on his face, “Somehow, babe, I doubt we’ll be doing that very often.”

“I’m sorry, Pal.” I’m mortified how much my disgust must have showed.

“Hey, don’t fret.” He pulls me into his arms and rocks me. “Love you, Jay. Even if you don’t like swallowing.”

“Love you too, Pal.” So much. I can’t imagine life without him.

His cock starts lengthening again, and soon I’m on my knees as he holds my long hair firmly and pounds into me from behind. Soon I’m coming again, shortly after his sharp thrusts tell me he’s filling the condom.

We roll over, he pulls me into his side. “Need to give me a few minutes to recover, Doll.”

I giggle against his skin. He’s insatiable, but then, now I’ve got a taste of his lovemaking, so am I.

Saturday dawns, and we set off very early, needing to get to Royal Gorge before it officially opens. I’ve seen pictures, but it didn’t do it justice, or more appropriately, didn’t look so scary in 2D. We pass another group of bikers, but I don’t give them a second glance, too worried about what’s appearing in front of me.

The bridge, I know from hearing the discussions about it, crosses nearly one thousand feet above the Arkansas river below. Lengthwise, it’s getting on for twelve hundred feet across. Statistics that didn’t seem worrying until I saw it for myself. It’s a suspension bridge that held the record as the highest in the world, until the beginning of this century. The surface is wooden planks.

As Pal slows the bike I tap him on the shoulder and shout, “Pal, we can’t. We’re not really going over it, are we?”

“Sure are babe. You’ll be alright. Just hang on tight.”

Hang on tight.Yeah. Okay.

It’s early, the bridge normally opens at eight when it’s restricted to pedestrians, but before that, motorcycles can cross. Sparky had sorted out all the arrangements, and we’re being waved forward. Oh shit. As the bike hits the planks the sound under the wheels changes, and I swear it wobbles. Starting to fear we’ll veer off, I give a small scream, and do indeed, hang on tightly, closing my eyes at the same time.

“Wow,” Pal breathes out. “This is something, Doll, isn’t it? Fuckin’ beautiful.” One of us has got their eyes open at least. Probably lucky it’s him.

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