Page 38 of Restored By the Mountain Man
She gasps, leaning her hips into my touch. “I want you,” she whispers. “All night.”
I roll us over, her on her back, me over her. “It’s a good thing I keep in shape, then.”
Her wish is my command. We start the delicious exploration that leads to many more rounds than just two.
Three amand we’re in my kitchen, laughing like two teenagers. After too many rounds and her indeed getting her turn before I ended up bending her over my dresser, we took a shower together where she had me in her mouth. Again.
When her stomach grumbles, I button her into one of my flannels that meet her mid-thigh, falling off one shoulder, andloosely pull on pajama pants myself. She sits on the counter, teasing me as I make us cookie dough from scratch.
She pops another semi-sweet chocolate chunk into her mouth, smiling at my glare. She’s stolen so many, we won’t have enough for the dough.
“Favorite,” she says, thinking. “Oh! Favorite country artist.” At my deadpan, she laughs. “What? Don’t all you small-town mountain men listen to country?”
Abandoning the dough, I settle between her smooth thighs, grabbing her naked hips under my shirt and pulling her into my body. My cock’s hard from watching her lick her fingers for the past twenty minutes.
Gasping, she arches into my body, combing her fingers into my hair. Groaning, I tilt my head back, my dick pulses against her bare core through my bottoms. Her lips are at my throat before she licks me.
She pulls away as I straighten, opening my eyes. “No, we’re not all a stereotype,” I answer, pulling my shirt further off her shoulder, exposing her left breast. I bend and take the whole thing into my mouth before I suck and lick around her erect nipple.
“Oh, my God, Ezra,” she moans. “I’m going to come on your counter.”
Biting around her nipple, I ask, “You want to come now or after I eat cookie dough off your body.” I suck her nipple deeper. “Then eat your pussy, watching you eat my cookie dough? And only if you eat it all will I let you come.”
Her eyes dilate, her nose flares. I release her glorious breast, tipped with dark brown nipples that taste better than any chocolate chip.
“Sweet Cheeks likes option two, I see,” I grin, stepping away to finish the cookie dough.
“You kinky fucker. Just you wait,” she laughs, panting. “You haven’t seen everything I can do with my mouth yet.”
Growling deep in my throat, I pin her with my stare, holding back this primal need only she brings out of me. Leaning on her hands, she lifts her body and plants a hard kiss on my lips.
“Okay, fine. What’s your favorite genre of music?” she asks her next question, watching how I cream the butter and sugar and sift the dry ingredients. We’ve been playing this game for the last hour.
“Dad always listened to classic seventies rock. Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd, Queen, Aerosmith. Loved it growing up. Still do,” I answer. The sting of remembering my father, not as deep tonight.
“Oh, my God. Those are great music choices.” She pops another chocolate in. “I approve.”
“Woman,” I playfully reprimand. She sticks her tongue out, taunting me with the melting chocolate.
I wrap my hand around the side of her neck, pull her head forward, and kiss her. My tongue instantly wraps around hers, stealing the remainder of the chocolate.
“Mmm,” she moans. “Tastes so much better from your mouth.”
“Baby. At this rate, we’ll never get you fed,” I rasp against her lips, feeling my dick harden. “You need your energy.”
“My mountain man’s already fed me cheese and salami cubes, hummus and crackers while we whipped up a first batch of cookies.” She wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me back between her legs. “I think I need to swallow something else,” she whispers.
“Trouble,” I grunt, picking her up. Her legs tighten around my waist, causing my flannel on her body to ride up. I slap her ass, and she squeals. “You want to swallow my cum, beautiful?” I ask at her mouth. Her head enthusiastically nods.
I march us upstairs again. “Fine. But while you’re at that end, I’m having your pussy on the other end for dessert.”
Still half asleep,we wake from a nap. All night, we had each other, in so many ways. In between, we rested, recovered, and talked. We asked more questions, spoke about our dreams growing up, travel hopes, and shared stories from our childhood.
How is it I’ve only known this woman for such a short time?
The dawn approaches. The hazy pinks and soft purples paint the sky outside my bedroom window. We’re facing each other, naked in bed, each caressing the other’s body.
“I love to dance,” she laughs. “Laurel and I used to go clubbing all the time.”
