Page 32 of Until Ireland

It made me wonder if she was having second thoughts or regretting staying. Having her in my bed tonight would be torture for me after everything we’d been through, but I was willing to hold her while we slept if that was all she was ready for.

“Once you’re undressed, pass me your clothes, and I’ll get them in the washer,” I informed with a kiss on her forehead before she closed the door.

Moments later the door cracked open, and I saw pale arms pushing clothes at me. I gathered them, took them downstairs, and got a cycle going before making my way back upstairs.

As promised, I left the massive double doors to my bedroom open. When I stepped into my bathroom, I shut myself in. I needed a moment of privacy. Might be a good idea to relieve the pressure building in my dick before climbing into bed with her. If she had any doubts about what I wanted, my dick poking at her wouldn’t help matters.

Because both of my businesses were successful and ran purely on function, my home was made for comfort. The entire house reflected the aesthetic of relaxation, and it was even more evident in my bedroom. The space was large and rustic. Exposed wooden beams crisscrossed the ceiling, and an equally large black iron chandelier with small LED lights gave the illusion of candles. It hung over the bed, illuminating the area a soft amber glow. The color scheme was done in natural colors, beiges and grays with pops of dark burgundy, thanks to my mom’s interference with the decorator.

Off to the left rested a two-seater couch and a chair and half. Both faced the large window which overlooked the back portion of my property with the manmade lake. In the wintertime, the dark blues and purples of the sky were a perfect backdrop to the changing leaves of fall. It was my favorite spot at the end of a long week to unwind and relax.

Knowing I had limited time, I quickly undressed then brought my clothes back out to the bench at the end of my bed before making my way to the en-suite bathroom. The rustic theme was carried into there too.

Double sinks rested against a gray wood panel wall with a full mirror. A large whirlpool tub that could fit a half dozen people lay on the other side of the room under another large window. I’d never used the thing, but I suspected it would all change with Ireland in my life.

The toilet was behind a privacy door, yet it was the massive shower that was center stage in the room. Different color gray tile covered both the floor and walls. Dual shower heads were on each side, and a large black rain showerhead hung dead center of the glass enclosure. In addition, a large bench ran the entire length of one wall. Again, it wasn’t something I used since I didn’t shave my legs or shit like that, but Ireland would eventually get to utilize it. I grinned. We’d take advantage of it together for other fun activities.

My dick bobbed in agreement. Constantly thinking about sex with Ireland wasn’t going to keep my cock calm when I climbed into bed with her. I needed to hurry the fuck up. Thanks to the on-demand water heater I had installed after I bought the property, the moment I turned on the water, it’d be hot. Wasting no time, I stepped under the spray and let the water crash over me. I stuck my hand under the dispenser for bodywash then grabbed one of the washcloths and went to work, lathering myself up. The scent of the soap finally took the smell of the fire off my body.

Using the lather from the soap, I grabbed the base of my dick. The glint of the silver balls from the dydoe piercing caught my eye. The balls ran parallel to my dick and passed through the ridged edge, dead center on the head of my cock, something Ireland obviously hadn’t paid attention to the first night we were together.

The piercing resulted from a night of overindulgence in tequila at twenty-one. I only kept the damn thing because it had hurt like a bitch to get. Why go through all that pain only to remove it? All these years later, it required minimum maintenance—keeping it clean and switching out the piercing occasionally.

I looked at my hand wrapped around my dick and imagined it was Ireland’s delicate palm. Preferable her left hand, with the clusters of blue and pink flowers along with dark green leaves tattooed on her ring finger. It was the hand she used on my dick the night I took her back to my apartment above Flame. I couldn’t stop thinking about it and had been jacking off to that exact memory every night since then. It also didn’t help with her being right down the hallway, perhaps naked, getting a shower in my other bathroom.

I groaned, thinking about Ireland’s body, flushed and wet from the heat of her shower. I fucked my fist at lighting speed, acutely aware I wouldn’t be able to draw my pleasure out this time. It was entirely possible she’d be entering my bedroom at any moment. I really didn’t want her finding me masturbating.

“Jesus,” I groaned when I gave my dick a heavy squeeze, knowing Ireland’s pussy would be just as tight. I focused on the up-down movement of my hand. My thumb stopped to gather the pre-cum gathered at the tip. My balls drew up, and the familiar tingling in my spine announced my impending release.

It happened so fast. My knees buckled, and cum burst from my tip on a downward stroke. A groan fell from my lips. Splashes of my cum landed on the tile wall while the rest was wasted down the drain.

“Fuck.” I gasped at how hard I orgasmed. The relief I’d been hoping for wasn’t there. My cock remained hard in my hand. “Motherfucker.” I gritted my teeth, slamming my fist against the tile in frustration.

Quickly, because I’d wasted enough time stroking my dick, I rinsed the bubbles and the remains of my release from my hand then washed my hair before turning off the shower knob with more force than necessary. I snatched my towel off the warming bar and snapped it around my hips as I strolled out into my bedroom.

Ireland sat waiting for me on my bed, wearing my t-shirt—sans bra. The fabric was wet, thanks to her damp hair. I couldn’t help but notice her hard nipples poking against the white fabric. Maybe, just maybe, if I looked hard enough, I could make out the exact color of her areolas.

“Fuck me,” I grumbled, noticing how the t-shirt rode up slightly exposed her thighs with her tattoos playing peek-a-boo. I’d never been jealous of an article of clothing before, but I damnit, I guess there was always a first time. Was she even wearing the boxers I gave her? I couldn’t tell from this angle.

With all her make-up gone, it gave her a fresh-faced, wholesome look, making her appear younger. Her emerald gaze dropped to my groin, and I knew she was staring at my hard cock pressing against the towel I’d wrapped around my waist.

“Give me a second,” I said, my tone abrupt as I made my way to my dresser and pulled out a pair of black boxer briefs. I normally wore boxer-briefs during the day and boxers to bed. That wasn’t going to happen tonight because my dick was so hard it’d escape through the cutout in the front. At least the black pair in my hand might keep my dick contained.

Turning my back on her so she didn’t get a bird’s eye view of my raging erection, I dropped them then pulled on my boxer-briefs.

“Ready for bed?” I asked, in an attempt to sound casual. It felt anything but, thanks to my husky voice. Need coursed through my body due to the red-headed beauty who looked way too comfortable sitting on my bed.

Ireland nodded.

I pulled the blankets back, watching intently as she scurried under the covers. I joined her in my bed, making sure to keep my body close but still away from hers. I rolled onto my back, throwing my arm up over my head. When I was sure she’d settled in, I reached over and turned off the lights, filling the room in darkness. It was going to be one of the longest fucking nights of my life.

“Mack?” she whispered before I felt her fingertips caress my abdomen. My body tensed at her touch.

I clenched my teeth and grunted. “Listen, I’m trying to be noble here, cupcake. I told you I wasn’t expecting sex, and I meant it.”

She moved closer, pressing her full tits against my side. I swear my dick was under threat of being choked off thanks to the tightness of my underwear.

“What if I want to give it, you know, a try?” A warm puff of her breath that floated across my skin.

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