Lumbersexual (Novella) (10 page)

I heard his words but I didn’t know if I believed him.  Maybe he thought I was pretty, okay.  He’d nudged open that part.  He liked me because I was different.  But him thinking he could take care of me?

That felt like a line.

Because of my parents saying “It’s just until we get settled somewhere,” I’d had trouble believing people.  Trouble trusting that what they said was what they meant.  

Because the promise to come and get me never came true.

So was he telling me the truth?

Though I didn’t know why I cared if this was just casual.

We cleared the dishes, making the tiny kitchen clean again.  Then he looked at me.  “I’m gonna start a fire.  It’s cooler tonight.  Mountain weather always changes.  Want s’mores?”

“I’ve been wanting them since I got here.”

“Done, babe.”

He went into the kitchen and came back with a bag of marshmallows, a few Hershey bars, a box of graham crackers, and a plate.  Poking a marshmallow on a long skewer for me and for him, we sat next to each other on the bearskin rug before the fireplace and roasted them until they became golden on the outside and melted on the inside.

We assembled our s’mores and put them on the plate.  I held one out for him to bite.  Unlike at Kristy’s party, I
wanted
to feed him, and I wanted to be fed.  

He smiled his half-grin and opened his mouth.  I carefully held the dessert up to him, but he still got melted marshmallow in his beard and graham crackers on the rug.  My hands were a mess.  “It’s good,” he said, “but you taste better.” And he leaned over and gave me a chocolatey-marshmallowy-beardy kiss.  I wanted to touch his hair, wanted him inside me, wanted him, period.  But sticky hands meant that I settled for his tongue right now.

We broke apart.  He grabbed the other s’more and held it out for me to bite.  The marshmallow oozed all over my tongue, the sweetness of the chocolate and the crunch of the graham cracker giving it bite.

Yum.

He pulled my sticky fingers over to him and sucked them one by one, which felt like he was licking something else.  I returned the favor, gazing at him, not breaking the eye contact.

But we both got up, brushed the crumbs off of ourselves, and washed off.  Coming back to the living room, choosing to get off of the floor, I sat on the super comfortable couch.

Instead of sitting next to me, though, he went over to a wooden desk and opened a drawer.  When he came over to me, he looked circumspect.  He handed me a brown paper-wrapped package about the size of a large, squat dictionary.

“I got you something.”

I was so surprised and touched.  Not expecting a present from Court Thompson.  What did this mean?  I took it tentatively, but gratefully.  “Thank you.”

He stood before me, looking down.  “Open it.”

I did and found a digital camera, a higher end model than the usual point-and-shoot.  A really thoughtful present.  There had been more occasions than I could think of this summer already when I’d wanted a camera to record the moment.

“Court.  This is so nice, but I can’t accept it.  It’s too much.”

He shook his head and pushed the camera back to me.  “Take it.  I want you to remember this summer.  We’ll go take pictures.  I’ll take you up to Glacier Point, Tuolumne Meadows, Big Oak Flat.  Mono Lake.  You said you wanted a camera.”

“I did.”

“Now you got one.”

Was he just trying to buy me so I’d go to bed with him?

The thing was, I’d decided to go to bed with him without it, so why was he even bothering.

Seeing the look on my face, he stepped forward.  “What is it?  Don’t you like it?”

“It’s fantastic and thoughtful.  I guess I just think it means that you really do want me to sleep with you.”

Fuck.

More toothpaste I couldn’t put back in the tube.

“Babe?”

I nodded.

“There will be little sleeping involved.”

My eyes widened and my hands shook.  I set down the camera on a table.  

Even though I didn’t know if he wanted me as his staff pick of the summer or something else, my body didn’t care.  I was going to turn off my brain and pay attention to my body.  Be with him.  Even if it was just for now.

Maybe this would be the alpenglow I’d remember in my later years.  The warm summer memory, never to be repeated.

“You good with that?”

I nodded.  I
was
good with that.  I was sick of the friend-zone.  I wanted the fling.

Maybe this was a bad idea.  Maybe I shouldn’t trust him.  Or anyone.

But something in the way he’d already acted made me believe he’d take care of me.

Because he already had.  He’d already bandaged my blister and taken me safely home from Kristy’s crazy party.  Rescued me from dirty meatballs and shown me Yosemite—the most beautiful place I’d ever seen.  The one place I’d always wanted to see—and he’d made it a priority.

Was I good with that?  Was I good with trusting him, even for tonight?

“Talk to me.”

“Yes, that’s okay,” I whispered.

“Good,” he whispered back.  “Because I want to spend the rest of the night mapping out every inch of your body.”

And his plump lips crashed to mine and this time he tasted like toasted marshmallows and beard and wood smoke.  His tongue touching mine, dancing, licking, playing, teasing.  His hands low around my waist, almost on my ass, mine up around his shoulders, holding the nape of his neck to me.  My athletic body pressed to his solid one, feeling that yes, he was really interested in me.

Then somehow I found my head nestled in a fluffy white pillow on his large bed, looking up into his blue-green eyes in the low light of a rustic room.  Had he held my hand down the hall?  Picked me up?  I didn’t know.  It was happening in a blur, and I loved it so much that I wanted to slow things down.  Mark this moment.  Take a picture so I could remember it.

But time sped up.  My shirt was off, then my bra, my nipples hard nubs, turned on for him.  And he was kissing down my torso, his whiskery beard running over my midline, the longer part of his hair flopping down, his scuffed hands gently exploring my body.  His tongue tasting my skin.

“Let me see you with your shirt off,” I said.

He knelt up, and whoosh, off.  Hours spent hiking and chopping wood made his torso toned and tan, a light trail of hair under his belly and a dusting of hair on his pecs looked so fucking tough and strong.  His jeans rode low and I could see an indentation where his hip muscles started.  He bent to my neck, beard on my skin, tongue and teeth activating my nerve endings.

And his tattoos.  Bright colors, designs that complemented the curves of his muscles, marking his biceps, his triceps, his forearms.  My hands followed the gentle rise of his biceps, and traced the ink, feeling the liveliness of his skin.  Holding me.  Now that he was leaning down to have his body cover mine, his hard cock finally between my legs, his arms flexed and I could see all of them.  

Sublime.

Again he knelt up between my legs, but this time he finished undressing me, the panty-dropping grin becoming reality.  He backed up, unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, and ordered, “Hips up.”  I lifted my body, and he peeled my pants and undies off.  Gazing at me, he stood next to the bed, pausing, holding my clothes.  He just looked at me naked in his bed, taking things slow.  Savoring it.

All I wanted was for him to touch me.  So keyed up, wet, swelling, I wanted to rub myself, waiting, anxious, goddamn it, get a move on.  I pressed my thighs together.

He put one large hand on each knee and splayed me out on his big, plaid bed.

Starting at my bellybutton, licking and sucking, he kissed his way up my torso, making it to my nipple, where he sucked hard, so hard.  He almost bit it, which I wouldn’t normally think that I’d like, but I loved it.  More, more, more.

Swirling his tongue around that nipple, he reached between my legs and I almost jumped when he hit the right spot, because it felt so good, like the best present ever.  Like a promise of relief from the attraction and arousal he’d made me feel since I first saw him.

And with one of his big hands, he pinned both of my wrists over my head, while he gently rubbed my clit with the other.  Delicious, exquisite pressure.
 

And he started talking as he held my hands and circled my clit, his mouth igniting my skin, kissing my neck between words.  “You gotta know, you’re fucking phenomenal.  I’ve wanted you since the second I saw you.  You’re so damn hot.”  Finger circles increased, and my body clicked.

Into orgasm mode.

Yes.

Yes
.

I barely knew what he was saying, but he kept talking to me, holding me still, feasting on my skin, rubbing my core.  “Your body is sick.  Goddamn so hot, these tits are perfect.”  And he bit the other one gently with his teeth, still pinning my hands over my head, and he inserted another finger into me and curled up as his thumb circled, so wet, and yes, yes, yes, I was gonna come, I was gonna come on his hand, I was gonna . . .

Fuck!

Yes!

Soaring, in the high Sierra, I came and I came hard, my body shuddering, my brain focused on nothing but the rush of pleasure, the focus from the sensations rocking through me, and he stayed with me, let go of my hands, and kept the shockwaves going until I became soft like river sand.  “I need you in me.”

“Not yet.”  And he stuck his finger in his mouth and sucked it, this time tasting
me
for dessert.  Kneeling down, his hands went under my ass, his head between my legs, and he started to lick my pussy.  

Fuck. Yes.

I had no problem with coming multiple times, other than finding an opportunity with the right guy.

Court was the right guy.

His shaved hair brushed my thighs, his tongue on my clit, a finger in me, he started a rhythm that set up another orgasm—and this one was gonna be huge.

Spiky-soft beard on the most intimate part of me, he gave it to me, gave me him, not holding back, not tentative.  Giving me all of his attention, all of his tongue, working my body to another crescendo of pleasure, and this time, letting go, I screamed, because there was no other way to get it all out.  As I came, he grabbed my ass with his free hand, pressing me to his face, feeling me rock against him, all tongue and fingers and man and me.  The waves came and came and then subsided and I was even softer in his bed, swollen, wanting him inside me, wanting to see his cock, to see what he looked like when he came, to give him the pleasure he’d just given me.

“Now, Court.  Please.  Please.”

He nodded.  “Yeah, I can’t wait.”

“Do it.  Please.”  I’d never begged before, but I had to have him, and I had to have him now.

He got up, stood on the floor, and undid his jeans, dropping them to the ground. His erection tented his dark blue boxers.  I stayed on the bed and reached over, holding the elastic, wanting to give everything, totally lost with him, not knowing anything else but him.

I pressed his boxers down, and he helped.  I finally got a look at his cock.

Straight, veiny, and totally turned on for me.

I mean,
really
.  He was the perfect size, or even slightly too big, but yes.  Please.  I got off the bed to the floor, knelt, and took him in my mouth.

Oh my God he tasted fantastic.  His skin soft, his cock reactive, I gripped him gently and stroked, and now it was his turn to moan.  “Fuck, Maggie.  Fuck.  No.  Fuck that’s so good but—”

He pulled back and reached over to the bedside table to open a drawer and procure a condom.  Ripping it open, then rolling it on, he pulled me up to the bed and hovered over me.  But he paused for a moment—my legs spread wide, my breasts wet from his kisses, my nipples hard and at attention, my pussy plump and soaked—and just looked at me.

Looked at me.

In the dark.

Those eyes on me.  Still hovering.

“Maggie, you are so beautiful.”  

Then he positioned himself at my entrance, closed his eyes, and sunk into me, slow, wet, deliberate, and profound.  I gasped.

Ohmigod.

Yes
.

He wrapped his arms around me, pressed into me, and I grabbed his hair, needing to pull it, feel how thick it was.  He thrust in and out, in and out, and made a noise in his throat like a bear.

Knees up on either side of him, he bore into me, but it was the most amazing feeling in the world, like I was complete.  Like I’d found myself, and I’d found myself with him.  My head buzzed.  My body throbbed.  I felt alive.  I wrapped my legs around him.  

He ran a hand down my side.  “You have the most magnificent body with the most gorgeous curves.  Stunning.”  

As he fucked me, I started moaning again.  I’d never been fucked like this before.  I was bursting from it.

“Come on top.  Wanna see you.”

Without breaking the connection, we rolled over, and I leaned back, straddling his cock. God, yes.  Every inch of him in me.  Making me hum and moan and my God, there was no one here, and I could make all the noise I wanted.  Sounds came out of my mouth I’d never made before.