Page 41 of Afternoon Delight

Zak had closed the drapes and turned on a lamp. He’d shoved everything back into the bag except the lube and a strip of condoms. I set the toy on the night table beside them and accepted the invitation of his arms, lying half over him on the bed.

“What about you?” I asked.

“What about me?” He twisted so I was beside him on the mattress. Our legs laced together.

“How many have you been with?”

“Women?”

“Partners. I don’t judge.”

“You judge,” he accused with good humor.

“Not about that.”

“You’ll be...” He looked across the room, calculating. “Number six.”

“Really?” I asked skeptically.

“I thought you didn’t judge?”

“You’re a good-looking guy. I thought you’d be a chick magnet.”

“I am such a babe magnet,” he pronounced with deadpan irony. “But I went through a long period when I wasn’t interested in sex.”

“What do you mean?” I let my head fall back so I could see his face better.

“I told you about when I was grieving Mom, and my girlfriend got an abortion and broke up with me.”

“You didn’t mention that last bit.”

“I thought it was implied. Anyway, she did. I spiraled into a depression, let myself go, spent a lot of time hating myself and thinking no one would want me anyway, so why bother. Crap like that.”

“I’m sorry.” I rubbed the back of his shoulder. “What changed?”

“I don’t know. I came out of it one step at a time.

Actually, I had this really shitty job that paid really well, but it left me looking like the walking dead.

Zara got after me to start eating right, so I got myself on a meal plan, joined a cooking class, and started going to the gym.

I hated all of it, but I wound up sleeping with my trainer, so that was a reason to keep going.

She was number three, after my high school girlfriend and my college girlfriend. ”

“Then?”

“Then a coworker. That was okay, but we’re better as friends. Then Erica.”

“The nurse.”

“Yes. Was this the kind of foreplay your ex enjoyed? Because I have some notes if you want to give me his number.”

“I want to know what I’m up against.”

“Me.” He rolled closer, shifting his hand to my lower back as he dragged me tighter to his warm body. I felt his erection against my abdomen.

“But you might compare me to your trainer,” I complained. “She sounds like she kept things tight.”

“You need to let that go.” He shifted down the bed so the ridge of his cock was against the notch of my thighs. “I find you very attractive.”

“Were any of them funny? Those other women?”

“Every single one.”

“You bastard . You knew that would hurt me.”

He chuckled and rolled me beneath him.

“They weren’t as funny,” he assured me. “And not a single one of them ever brought me a butt plug.” His tongue flicked into my throat.

“None got herself off behind a door, leaving me to think about that for days and days and days.” His breath bathed my ear.

“I think about it all the time, Meg. I’m going to need to see that today.

I hope you don’t mind.” He slid his hand to possessively cup my mound.

I whimpered, going molten under the weight of his hand. I searched for his nibbling lips with my own.

We both groaned as we kissed the way we’d been building up to—wet and uninhibited, with suction and lots of tongue, deeply involved.

I liked how he kissed: hungry and demanding, like I was something he wanted to devour.

It turned me on, along with the weight of him half on me and the way he smelled of wood and wind and laundry soap.

I liked how his hand rubbed between my thighs, then roamed up and down my side, getting to know my shape while I learned the planes of his back, the shallow valley of his spine, the bristles at the nape of his neck, and the strength of his shoulders.

We started to loosen clothing. I got my hands under his shirt and explored his chest, finding a light mat of hair and his pebbled nipples.

He lifted his head and looked at me through slitted eyes. His hand popped the button on my jeans, then slid the zipper down.

“Too fast?” he asked.

I shook my head. “It’s cold. Maybe we should undress and get under the covers.”

It wasn’t that cold. I was actually pretty hot, but we rolled away and pulled our clothes off. My nipples stung as they tightened under his appreciative glance. I took in an eyeful of his nude form—winter-pale but neatly muscled. His cock stood out proudly from a tidy shave.

I self-consciously slid under the blankets.

“I suggest you pace yourself on your shyness,” he teased, joining me beneath the sheets. Our cool skin brushed and warmed, and we kissed again.

This time, when our hands cruised and searched, it was against bare skin, making it that much more powerful. More pleasurable.

“This feels really good, Meg.” He pushed his elbows into the mattress on either side of me, surging so his body slid along mine. The damp tip of his erection painted my upper thigh, then my stomach. “Better than I imagined.”

“It does,” I agreed, taking hold of his cock, fondling and exploring the heft of him, the textures of his shaft and the velvety tip. When I closed my hand around him, he pumped into my fist, eyes closed.

“I’m not going to last if you keep doing that,” he said shakily, pulling from my grip. He guided my hand between my own thighs. “Show me.”

I might have hesitated if I hadn’t been so horny.

He had the gall to shift away, throw the covers back, and push my leg open so he could see better.

But I wanted to turn him on as much as I wanted to ease the ache building inside me.

I toyed with my clit, gathering and spreading my juices, then slowly and deliberately penetrated myself with a finger, watching his intent expression as I did.

He stuck his finger in his mouth, wetting it, then pushed it in with mine, covering my hand and trapping it tight against my body.

He swept his head down to kiss me, deep and messy.

Our hands could barely move. I was full, very aware of his finger inside me alongside mine, causing that extra stretch, sparking renewed flushes of wetness that made the shift of our fingers feel slippery and delicious.

Slowly, he eased his finger out of me and drew wet circles around each of my nipples, then tasted them with sloppy, wet sounds. When his eyes met mine, my hand was still over my pussy, my fingers half inside me. I felt drunk with lust.

“Are you ready for some ass play?” he asked in a deep, sexy voice.

I nodded. I really was.

He rolled away for the lube and plug, then shifted to a spot farther down the bed.

“I’d empty this all over you, but I want to taste you when I go down on you.

” He squeezed a generous line of lube onto the plug like toothpaste onto a brush, then spread it to coat the silicone.

He set the cool tube of lube on my belly, startling me into sucking in my stomach.

I was so distracted by that, I didn’t protest when he folded my thigh up against my boob, exposing my ass and pussy.

“Play with yourself again,” he said.

I did, running two fingertips on either side of my clit while he teased my taint and asshole with the slippery tip of the butt plug. I appreciated that he wasn’t just jamming it in. He rimmed and rolled, giving light presses, each time with a little more insistence.

I was growing goopy around my asshole while my pussy didn’t know whether to clench or relax and let this happen.

“I should’ve fingered you here first.” The tip pressed a little more insistently against my hole. He rubbed lube around and around my sphincter, relaxing it with gentle pulses of the plug, easing it deeper and deeper. “You think you’d ever want my cock in your ass, Meg?”

The plug was pushing and pinching, making me start to think it was too much.

Too big. As I drew a breath to say so, the stretch stopped.

Relief washed over me as the ring of my asshole pursed around the narrow neck of the plug.

The sensation inside me was dark and foreign and taboo. Filthy in the best possible way.

“Okay?” he asked, tracing and soothing where the plug was inserted. The motion tapped and twisted the ring, sending erotic vibrations through my pelvis.

“It feels really good,” I breathed, rolling my fingertip across my swollen clit. When I clenched internally, I felt the firmness of the butt plug. Orgasm hovered, threatening to break.

“This is really fucking hot, Meg.” He caught my hand, lifting it off my spread, pulsing pussy lips. “But this is mine now. You can rub your nipples if you want to, but I get this.”

He stole a pillow and slid off the bed to kneel on it. Then he dragged my hips into position and pushed my thigh back up to my chest, leaving his hand behind my knee to hold it there. The butt plug shifted inside me as he worked his finger into the ring on its base.

I wanted that finger inside my pussy like I’d never wanted anything else, but this was exciting, too.

When the back of his hand was flush against the bottom of my buttocks, I tested how much I could move.

There wasn’t pain, exactly. More like a zing of intense sensation that made my pussy flood with need.

“This is my best day ever, Meg. I hope you know that.” The pad of his thumb rubbed against my taint, teasing my vagina. He dropped his head and lazily ran his tongue into the furrows of my inner lips, taking his time as he got to know every nook and fold.

Each time I started to wiggle in impatience or encouragement, that weight inside me shifted, and my sensitized anus stung against the protruding shape. My pussy clenched, and I nearly died of yearning.

“Fuck, Zak,” I moaned, wanting to move, wanting to come, wanting to ride his face and feel his cock inside me. “Suck my clit. Please .”

He groaned and tongued my hole, making me squirm and take those delightfully soft stabs in my ass before he finally worked his way to my clit.

That’s when I understood nuclear fusion. Points of pleasure folded in upon themselves like molecules being compressed into too small a space. It became impossible to contain the intensity. The power.

I was saying things. I was trying not to move, but I was moving enough to make the plug shift in small thrusts. I was so wet. So tense. So ready and so close.

Then he sucked on my clit, and the explosion happened.

I think I screamed. I know my thighs clamped onto his head. It was too much. Too good. Contractions struck like gongs inside me, emanating huge waves of pleasure. It went on for a really long time, almost a punishment, but so fucking good .

He hugged my thighs and sucked my clit, and I had another quick little orgasm before the waves finally began to fade.

When I was spent and my thighs weakly fell open, he rose and went to the bathroom to wash his face. He returned, picked up a condom, and rolled it on, watching me as he did.

“I don’t know if I can wait for you to come again,” he said, his voice thick with lust. “I can barely touch myself right now.”

I liked hearing that. I wanted to ride his hips and come again, but I didn’t think I had the energy.

Instead, I let him roll me onto my stomach over a pillow and groaned as I welcomed the slide of his heavy cock into my aching, needy pussy. The plug made the penetration feel different. The angle was new and every part of my insides were being touched.

Maybe it was just him.

“Oh, fuck,” Zak said, gripping my hips and giving a testing stroke. “Okay, Meg? Because—” He groaned and thrust a little harder.

I’d been afraid I’d feel the silicone of the ring—that it might hurt.

But it was soft enough that the ring collapsed between us as he moved, so I was only vaguely aware of it.

Mostly, I was caught in a vise of electric sensations.

Currents ran through me as his cock slid in and out, his hips retreating and slamming into my ass.

I pushed up onto my arms, holding still for the impact, moaning out my ecstasy as every single nerve ending in my pelvis sang.

“Oh, fuck, Meg.”

“Don’t stop,” I begged. His hard thrusts were pushing me toward the edge at breakneck speed. “I’m going to come. Don’t stop. I am. I am. Oh, God?—”

Orgasm struck, and he was only two strokes behind me. He clamped one hand on my hip, the other on my shoulder, and held himself deep and hard inside me, throbbing powerfully while his ragged shouts were probably heard all the way across town.