First Impressions, Redux
THE FIRST THING I heard the next morning was the clang, clang, clang of the triangle. That fucking triangle didn't let me sleep in. I'd have to steal it and hide it somewhere, or maybe melt it down into a horseshoe.
As I woke up, I also became aware that I wasn't in my bed in the bunkhouse with Janine, reenacting The Waltons. Instead, I was tucked into Will, his arms around my waist and his forehead in my hair, under his red and white quilt, in his antique bed, in his farmhouse. Bright sunlight bathed the whitewashed room and I felt sore, but also like I’d slept really well.
I moved away from him and he leaned back into his pillow, putting an arm up behind him, still sleeping, peaceful and pretty, hair tousled on his pillow. I was surprised that I’d woken up first. He seemed like an early-to-rise farmer, but I suppose we were active last night.
After we'd walked in the house from stargazing, he fed Trixie in the kitchen, closed her in there with a dog bed, and then got a look on his face that was a combination of mischievous and hopeful.
"I was thinking of redoing our first meeting."
"In the bathroom?" I asked, surprised.
"Yeah. But reenacting it a different way," he said, grinning.
Although I was mellow from him opening up to me outside and going for a walk under the stars, at his words, a thrill raced through my body. I hadn't had enough of Will for the evening.
I followed him down the hall, into the second door on the left, but this time, instead of pushing me out, he opened his arms to me and gave me a huge bear hug, then leaned back, tilted my chin up to him and kissed me.
The kiss started out sweet, but it didn't end that way. By the end of the kiss we were in each other's space. Chasing tongues, licking teeth, exploring the territory. We simply couldn't get close enough to each other.
I didn't look at the bathroom at all the last time. This time, I eventually got around to looking at it, and it was adorable—vintage white tile, an old fashioned tub built into one side, and spartan, but pleasant and country.
He'd been taking the lead this evening, but I decided it was my turn. I broke apart from our kiss, pulled up the hem of his tight t-shirt and lifted it over his head. I ran my flat hands down the smooth skin on his broad shoulders, lingering over his bulging biceps, feeling the veins in his forearms. Then I held his hands.
Letting go, I reached up and ran my palms up his torso, wanting to feel his washboard waist and his defined musculature, wanting to make his nipples pucker. As I did this, he watched me, amused and intense. I ran my hands up and over his shoulders, and down his strong back, feeling the muscles, feeling his brawn.
Then I got to his ass. He had a very tight butt that fit into the Wranglers like they were made for him. As I've mentioned, I'm not a Wrangler girl, I go more for Levi's, but Will's ass swayed me to the other side. Still, right now he was in loose track pants and bare feet. I slid my hands inside the waistband and peeled his pants and boxers off of him, feeling his ass, and kneeling as I went down. His cock, splendid and full, popped out of his pants and stood at attention. I reached over to stroke him and I heard him hold his breath. Then.
"Take off your shirt," he whispered, letting out his air with his words. He reached over into the shower and turned it on to heat up the water.
"I'll do one better," I murmured and I peeled off my hoodie and top, slowly, looking at him straight into his dark brown eyes. Then I licked my lips, enjoying the tease, as I took off my shoes and my pants, and stood there in my underwear.
I decided that I just had to play with him some more. I loved messing with him, he was so reactive, even though he said so little. I loved his irregular breathing, the darkening of his eyes, the quiver of his cheek and jaw. Looking at him, I slowly unhooked my bra, then slipped it down my arms. Next, I shimmied out of my underwear. Then I kneeled again, before all six and a half feet of him, looking up at this mountain of a man.
And I smiled.
He widened his eyes and let out a breath like a quiet, "Whoooooooooo."
So I leaned over and I went for it.
As I've mentioned, Mr. Will was a very big boy, in height, strength, and junk. I didn't know if I could get all of him in my mouth, but I was going to have fun trying. So, I decided to go slowly and carefully, almost dividing it into sectors. First, the balls sector. I gently cupped them with my hands, rolling them, caressing them. Then I decided that he needed a big lick up his cock sector, so I started at the root and licked him all the way to the head.
He liked this.
I could tell because he started swearing and he really knew how to swear.
Then I sort of reached up and decided to take as much of him as I could in my mouth—which ended up being a surprisingly long amount. I swirled my tongue around and pulled out with a sucking pop, and then went back again. And again. Swirl, suck, pop, lick. Repeat.
Then I decided to lavish attention on the glans sector, and thereunder.
And then I made the rounds again back to the other sectors, trying to keep up a steady rhythm and gentle pressure.
I knew I was pleasing him because of the noises that came out of him—a moan, a groan, a quiet "Yes."
But then he leaned his hips back, pulled out of my mouth and said, "Shower," and opened the curtain and helped me in. As the water surrounded us, he let me into the spray, warming me up, although I was already pretty warm, and comforting me. Then he pulled me to him by my lower back, pressed against me, and said against my neck, "You do that again and I'd consider voting for a Democrat."
"I see my plan is working," I said, joking.
He didn't look like he was joking. He sucked on my neck and asked, "You tested?"
"Yeah."
"You clean?" he continued.
"Yeah. You?"
"Yep. You on the pill?"
"Yeah."
"Then you good with bare?"
"Fuck yeah."
And with that, he picked me up by my ass and hoisted me against the flat part of the shower wall, above the faucets, under the spray, and slid into me. I quickly wrapped my legs and arms around him and held on.
I was already wet from the kiss at the beginning of all of this.
"Finger yourself, darlin'," he ordered, and I did, as he started to move.
It felt like all of my senses were engaged—touching the water, Will's righteous body, and the cool tile behind me; hearing the sound of our breathing, the slaps of our bodies and the splash of the water; tasting his marvelous mouth; seeing his hard body and dark eyes; smelling his skin and the musky scent of sex.
Even though I was wrapped around him, he held me up easily. I’d never thought this was a comfortable position, but with him, it felt easy. I liked this. A lot.
With the assistance of my own fingers and his cock stimulating me on the inside, it wasn't long before I exploded into a climax, Will following shortly behind.
After staying there for a moment, he slowly let my legs down, pressed his forehead next to mine, and said, "This is what I was thinking when I saw you the first time."
"Funny," I said, "I just thought, yum."
"Same thing." He smiled, forehead still to mine, and then he kissed me.
We soaped up, the slippery suds sliding over our wet bodies, cleaned up, dried off, and went to his bed, clean and sated.
Will didn't object when I told him that I liked to sleep naked. Apparently so did he.
So now, first thing in the morning, his torso on display, arm behind his head, I got to watch him in the early sun. Even his armpit was fine. I nuzzled his Adam's apple and then he woke up too.
He blinked and looked around and then saw me and pulled me into a tight squeeze. Who'd have thought that Will was a cuddler?
"We need to get up," I told him, "We'll miss breakfast."
"Fuck breakfast,” he muttered against my hair. “We'll either make something later or I'll take you out."
"'Kay," I agreed.
He turned over in bed and pressed me to my back, so that I was looking up at him and he was on his side, looking at me. He traced the tattoo down my arm, gently, lightly.
"What does this mean?"
"Everything happens for a reason."
He raised a sleepy eyebrow. "The saving the animals and the peacenik dove and the earth on your ass I can figure out, I think. But what about the stars on your hipbones?"
I looked away from him for a moment, then decided to tell him. "Because someday I want to find my mate for life, who will have the stars on his hips too and we'll match."
"That's cool," he said, tracing my markings with his hands, fascinated. Then, a few moments later, he asked, "You hungry now?"
"I could wait."
"Good. Because we'll eat after I fuck you again."
I lifted up my arms and pulled him to me.
And if he hadn't announced that it was fucking, I would have called it something else, something with a name that meant that it was slow and gentle and patient. Something like making love.