I grinned.
“But I know it has to do with your group secret.”
“It… might.”
“Well, you’ll have to wait, ’cause I’m not finished telling you about mine.”
“Then, by all means,” I said with a grin, “continue, fair Scheherazade.”
“Thank you. Now, where was I?”
“Vaughn had just moved away.”
“Oh, right! So, he moved away at Christmas. Lani missed him more than I did, even though she’d figured out what a jerk he was. I didn’t realize it at the time, but we were really lucky he hadn’t told anyone what we were up to.
Our reputations would’ve been ruined. Thinking back, I think he probably did tell people. Probably some of his buddies at the beach or on the swim team.
But I don’t think they believed him. He was always lying about things.”
I nodded. “Sounds like you dodged a bullet.”
“You can say that again. No, don’t!”
We shared a grin.
She took a sip of whiskey. Then she thought about something and took a longer drink. She finished the glass and set it aside.
“I know you like it when I ask for things,” she said at last. “Especially…
ones I want to do in bed.”
“Mmm hmm. I don’t want a passive girlfriend. You don’t have to take charge or anything, but you have to tell me what you want.”
“I know. And I’ve been trying harder lately. I still feel guilty sometimes, but it’s getting easier. I… feel really guilty about some of the… um…
weirder things I want.” She paused to smooth invisible fabric over her thighs.
“But then I tell you about them, and you act like they aren’t that unusual, like everyone has kinky fantasies.”
“Almost everyone does,” I said. “Most people are just too scared to admit it, even to themselves. They lie and say it’s disgusting or perverted or whatever. And the more they say it, the more they’re trying to hide.”
“But not you.”
“Not me,” I agreed. “I’m… comfortable… with my kinky inner life.
Many of my fantasies will stay fantasies, but that’s okay. Having them doesn’t make me a bad person. Neither does acting them out, as long as everyone’s willing.”
“I thought about that earlier tonight, out on the street, when we were…
you know.”
“Mmm hmm.”
“And that’s why I tell you things about my past. And… what I want.” She smoothed her hands over her legs again as she worked up her courage.
“Talking about Vaughn made me think about when he forced me, that first time in front of Lani and Peter.”
“And…?”
“I… kind of want you to do that. Force me to suck you off. Hold my head and make me.”
I set my untouched whiskey on the nightstand.
“Not now,” she said with a laugh. “But… sometime. When I’m not expecting it. Just whip it out and make me suck you off.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“I think so.” She grinned and blushed. “In the meantime, I think Mr. Big needs some attention for real. He says he’s tired of all this talk, talk, talk.”
I couldn’t hide my amusement. “Oh he does, does he?”
“Mmm hmm. He talks to me all the time. Not as much as he talks to you, but still… And right now he says he needs fellatio.”
“He uses big words sometimes.”
“He’s very intelligent. Sometimes he spends all day thinking about just one thing.”
“You can say that again!” I laughed.
“I’d better give him what he wants.” She took a firm grip on my hard-on and lowered her mouth to it.
I leaned back and relaxed on the pillows with a hand behind my head. I rested the other on Christy’s head as she nuzzled and kissed my straining
erection. After a few minutes she cupped my balls and caressed them. Then she began sucking in earnest.
We were both in the mood for a slow blowjob, so I closed my eyes and lost track of time as she enjoyed herself. I opened them when I felt her shift.
She angled her hips and spread her legs. Her smooth pussy glistened in the light from the fire. She began playing with herself with one hand while she steadied my shaft with the other. Her dark nipples were stiff and puckered with arousal. I rolled one between thumb and forefinger, and she groaned around my cock.
I could feel the pressure building in my balls, but I tried to hold back till she was ready. She must have sensed it, because she stopped trying to make me come and started concentrating on her own pleasure. I pinched her nipple harder and tugged at the stiff little bud.
After several minutes she began sucking faster and swirling her tongue around my glans. She was getting close, so I held her head and began thrusting my hips. That pushed her over the edge, and she came with a soft groan of surprise.
Her lips tightened around my shaft, which was the signal for my balls to convulse and unleash a torrent of semen down her throat. She swallowed automatically and rode the combined wave of orgasms. When they finally subsided, we lay in silence and caught our breath.
“Mmm, that was nice,” she said. Then she immediately stifled a yawn.
“Oh, my. Do you mind waiting till tomorrow to tell me your story?”
I chuckled. “I was just about to ask you the same thing. Come on up. And bring the covers with you.”
“Yes, sir.”
I reached over and turned off the bedside light. The fire made the room glow a dull red-orange.
Christy reached down and caressed my flaccid manhood. “Were you serious about what you said before, about having kids?”
“Yes. Why?”
She laughed softly. “’Cause I just swallowed about a million of our children.”
“That’s okay. I’m not ready to have them yet.”
“Me neither. So it’s okay if I keep swallowing?”
“Sure,” I chuckled. Then I rubbed her back. “Have to feed that voracious appetite of yours.”
“Mmm, an appetite for sperm.” She kissed my chest, yawned again, and squeezed my penis. “I love you.”
“Me or him?”
“Both!”
“Good. We love you too. Sweet dreams.”
“Mmm, of Paul and penis.”
We hit the slopes the next morning and skied all day. Christy was still a better skier, but mostly because she was more agile. I was faster on the straightaways and had more stamina, although part of that was because of her metabolism. I could tell when she ran out of energy and needed to eat—she was like a toy whose batteries had run out—so I made a mental note to bring a couple of candy bars with me next time.
We ate dinner at the steakhouse at what had already become “our” table.
Then we strolled through the village and gazed in the shop windows before we returned to the inn. I made sure to fill the ice bucket before I took off my clothes, while Christy ran a hot bath.
“Dear, will you bring the bottle and glasses in here?” she called when I returned. “I want to soak until I’m one big wrinkle.” She appeared in the bathroom doorway. She was wearing my button-down shirt from the night before and had her hair pinned up. She blushed when she saw my expression.
“Wow,” I said softly. “Just… wow.”
“Thank you.” She smiled and tucked a tendril of blonde hair behind her ear. “Join me in about five minutes?”
“Sure. I’ll get the fire going and then bring the drinks.”
“Perfect. Thanks.”
I gave her fifteen minutes and still knocked before she was ready. I grinned at the muffled bumps and managed to survive until she invited me in, although I was a little surprised by the sight that greeted me.
The bathroom was dark, lit only by a half-dozen candles—and not the thin taper kind, but stout pillar candles.
I chuckled. “So that’s why your overnight bag weighed a ton.”