Page 19 of Ted's Temerity
“I’ve got you,” I tell him, my own voice tight and gravelly with desperation. “Come for me, darling. Come over my cock.”
He throws his head back, exposing the elegant column of his neck, droplets of water and sweat making him shimmer in the low lighting of the bathroom. “Oh,oh,” he cries, his face contorting into the perfect moue of mixed rapture and torture. His hips are practically rocketing into my fist now, his movements seeming to have lost their rhythm. “Shit, shit, shit…I’m…oh,fuck.” He draws the last word into a long, low moan and I feel his cock swell and spurt ropes of cum into the water between us.
Watching and feeling him go over the edge pushes my orgasm over, too, and I mutter something unintelligible as my release joins his. I continue to lazily pump my fist over us until he squirms and complains that it’s too much.
The comedown is slow, filled with lazy kissing and nuzzling as the water around us grows tepid. Then I coerce him out of the tub and into the shower for a quick rinse off. Wrapped in big, fluffy bathrobes once I’ve dried us both, we move into the bedroom and flop down on top of the covers, both boneless and ridiculously happy.
Before I can ask him if he’d be comfortable staying the night, Zephyr snuggles into me and cheekily asks, “Are you cooking me breakfast in the morning?”
At this rate, I can see me offering to cook for him every morning if it means more moments like this.
Chapter Eight – Zephyr
When I wake up the next day, it takes a minute for the previous night’s events to catch up with me. I’m ensconced in warmth, Ted’s strong arms wrapped around me like a blanket, the heat of his skin on mine a bigger comfort than I could have imagined it would be. His morning wood is like a burning rod against the base of my spine and it’s all I can do to not grind my ass back into him while he’s still sleeping.
One of the things I learned about Ted during the week spent texting and talking on the phone is that he’s not a morning person. He likes to sleep-in on weekends and, listening to the slow, even breathing behind me, I know that today is no exception.
I don’t mind. As I might have expected, his bed is sinfully comfortable. The view through the large windows is just as breathtaking in the early morning sunlight as it is at dusk and at night. I’m content to lie here, snug in Ted’s embrace, and just enjoy the peace and tranquility while my thoughts drift.
Going back to last night, I think about just how well the ‘test’ evening went. It felt more like an established relationship than a first date, and I wonder how much of that can be put down to the week spent getting to know each other and how much can be put down to genuine chemistry. Either way, it was good. Heck, it was better than good to be myself and let go with Ted.
It was also a relief that I was able to sink into my little head space and femme play far more easily than I thought I would. It had felt like stepping back into my skin, comfortable and homey. I hadn’t had to force it, nor did I feel silly or strange. If anything, I felt whole again for the first time in a long time.
As much as Ted tried to downplay his role in that, I know that his complete acceptance and enthusiasm did more for me than I could have achieved in role playing on my own or at a club. Was that why I’d pushed the issue when it came to the bath? I hadn’t felt obligated or anything. But I had really wanted to show my appreciation, riding the waves of endorphins and connection that a good scene in little space had created.
I have zero regrets there.
That bath had been perfect. When he’d added the soap for the bubbles, I’d wondered if Ted had wanted to extend the Daddy/little play, but that hadn’t been the case. It had been for ambiance and the modesty that a cover of bubbles provided, not that either of us had really needed it. Still, there’s always an added layer of decadence when bubbles are involved in a sexy bath.
And sexy it was.
If I close my eyes, I can recall the feel of our slick cocks sliding together, of Ted’s large hand wrapping around us both, stroking us to completion in the hot water.
“Mmm,” a low rumble of appreciation travels up Ted’s chest and warm, wet lips find my shoulder and neck. His hand smooths down my side and over my hip, down to my cock which is hard and leaking for him already, courtesy of my trip down memory lane. “I could get used to waking up like this.”
He rolls his hips forward languidly, teasing the crack of my ass with the head of his own erection. I push back instinctively. I’ve never slept naked with a lover before, but now I can’t imagine doing anything else.
“Fuck, Zeph,” he groans and tightens his grip on my dick.
This latest nickname (because Ted seems to be a fount of them) makes me all warm and gooey inside, despite it just being a shortening of my name. It seems more personal than any of the others and said on a whim at that. Passionate and raw.
My gut swirls with need.
“You’ve got lube and condoms in here somewhere?”
Instead of answering, Ted rolls away from me and I bite back my complaints when I hear the drawer of his bedside table rolling open and the tell-tale sounds of his rummaging around for the requested items.
“Thank Christ,” he utters, coming back to me, victorious. “They’re in date.” When I crane my neck around to look at him, there’s mild embarrassment on his face. “It’s been a while. I probably should have thought to replace them before now, but…”
“It’s been a while for me, too,” I reply, too amped up to be amused by his sweet rambling.
He brings our mouths together and I’m too worked up to worry about my morning breath, and he doesn’t seem to care either. We kiss languidly and Ted moves me onto my back, thesnickof the cap from the bottle of lube the only warning I get before warm, wet fingers are probing at my hole.
“Is this okay?” he asks, teasing the rim with gentle, patient movements. “If you want me to stop-”
Consent is clearly a big deal for him. I genuinely appreciate that, but he needs to trust that I will safe word or stop him if I’m at all uncomfortable. But, before I say anything, the fleeting thought ‘what kind of relationships has he had before me to inspire this behavior?’ has the words lodging in my throat.
I know I’m not the neediest little. I’m big more often than not, and I like a modicum of control over my life. I like to push boundaries and tease for pleasure, not really in a bratty way, and I like to take care of my lovers as much as they take care of me. I know that Ted is a natural caretaker and, if last night is any indication, I’m happy to roll with that. It didn’t feel like I wasn’t his equal at any part of the evening, even if he was Daddy and I was his boy. I was still calling the shots, just in a different way.
