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I slid his cock from my throat and gasped for air. I wiped the saliva from my mouth and began jacking it in my wet hand. As I did, he once again leaned rearward and began to moan.

“Watch, please,” I breathed.

He glanced downward, “I can’t, I swear, it’s too much.”

He likes it.

I opened my mouth and slowly slid my lips along the shaft a few times, watching him as I did. After a few strokes, I forced his cock in and out of my throat until I felt it convulse. After I pulled my mouth free and gasped for air, I eagerly began again.

After a few strokes, I cupped his balls in my hand and began to caress them lightly.

His moans became louder and his breath choppy. His hand pressed against my forehead. I pushed against it, trying to force his cock to remain my mouth.

“I’m going…”

He pulled himself from my mouth, groaned loudly, and immediately came all over my tits. As much as I wanted him to cum in my mouth, seeing him cum all over my tits was a huge turn-on. While I watched cum spew from his cock and onto my chest, I felt as if I had done something special for him.

“Oh my fucking God,” he groaned as he leaned back against the counter.

As I stood, rubbing the massive amount of cum against my nipples, he glanced at his watch and immediately straightened his posture.

“Ethan’s going to be home pretty quick. We should probably get cleaned up,” he said under his breath.

“And stop doing that, you’re driving me crazy,” he breathed.

“What? This?” I asked as I pressed my palms into my tits and pulled them away, stringing his cum between my boobs and my hands.

“Yes,” he sighed as he pulled off his pajamas.

“You want to shower together?” he asked.

“I’d love to,” I responded.

As we walked toward the bathroom, I began to feel guilty. My offer to Ethan to shower together hadn’t produced much, and yet I continued to want more from him. I had never showered with a man, but wanted to. The books I read had scenes where people showered together, and it seemed intimate and sexy. Until now, I had wanted to experience that intimacy with Ethan.

I pulled my sweats off and glanced over at Cade. He seemed different. His messy hair was no longer cute, it was adorable. His body didn’t seem so thin; it appeared toned and physically fit. With his shirt off, his abdominal muscles were now prominent. His arms were long and lean, but full of muscle. What Cade and I shared in the kitchen was nothing short of magical, and beyond my expectations or any sexual experiences I ever had.

As I watched him step into the shower, he turned to me and smiled.

“Get in here, Rain,” he said as he pulled the shower curtain back, “I want to get wet and squeeze you in my arms.”

“Will you kiss me again?”

He nodded his head and motioned into the shower.

The thought of him kissing me again made me tingle.

And I began to wonder if what I was feeling was possibly the onset of love.

RAIN

There was little doubt in my mind regarding what had happened, but I didn’t dare express my feelings for fear of losing what we had developed. Cade and I had continued our sexual adventures for almost two weeks, primarily on Saturday’s while Ethan was at work, and I was clearly falling in love with him. My thoughts when he was away - and I was alone - included him and only him. In Ethan’s presence, however, I felt guilty and ashamed. I saw Ethan not as an older brother or a father figure, but as a slightly older protector. Strangely, I saw him as such for not only me, but for Cade as well. In Cades’ absence, my time with Ethan was different, but never intimate.

Ethan’s touch was always soft, but never sexual. His words were caring, but didn’t hint at any desire for having me act as anything other than the great friends we had become. I wanted more from Ethan, and as my love for Cade grew, I began to wonder if my hope for having or receiving more from Ethan was simply me wanting the satisfaction of knowing he appreciated having me in his life as much as I appreciated having him.

Although Cade and I had explored almost every sexual path available to us, we had yet to have sex. On the two occasions I mentioned it, he said he wanted to wait. Initially I was insecure about his refusal, but after two weeks, and knowing how I felt about him, I was beginning to see it as more of something I found to be cute. I secretly wondered if he was possibly a virgin, and began telling myself he was sexually inexperienced, and was waiting for marriage. The thought of it all eventually became very satisfying to me, and as much as I wanted to, I no longer asked for sex; but instead waited for him to proceed at his own pace.

I sat on the edge of the bar, facing the stove, and nibbled at my toast. As I ate my way around the edges, turning the square into as perfect of a circle as my mouth would allow, I grinned at my accomplishment. Cade stood between the stove and me, shaking his head.

“You’re adorable,” he said under his breath.

I looked up from my toast and grinned, “Thank you.”

I folded it in half and held it in the air, “Now it’s a taco.”

“I’d like to crawl into that head of yours and see life through your eyes for a while,” he said as he crossed his arms and fixed his eyes on mine.

I shook my head and rolled my eyes as I bit into my toast, taking half of it in my first bite.

“I don’t think you’d like it in here. It’s a pretty busy place,” I chuckled.

He nodded his head as he wiped his hands on his jeans, “I think I would.”

I shrugged my shoulders as I finished the toast, “Would what?”

“Like to be in there,” he said.

I shook my head.

“What would I find?’ he asked.

He was wearing jeans, a tee shirt, and canvas Sperry’s. Much different than I had ever seen him dress, but lately it seemed to be his choice of attire for the weekends. As I gazed at him and admired his neat appearance and beautiful hair, I realized how much differently I saw him now. He had truly become the object of my dreams.

I inhaled a breath, rubbed my hands on my thighs, flipped my feet outward, and exhaled as they bounced back into the edge of the cabinets.

“Shitty childhood memories, an honest hatred for the smell or taste of bleu cheese, zero compassion for people who take advantage of innocent children, a desire to one day have a new pair of shoes, a love of animals big or small – especially giraffes, an appreciation for art as long as it’s not a sculpture, a fascination for buildings constructed pre-1800, a whole bunch of marbles, and a newfound love for the smell of butter, amongst other things,” I blurted in one long, exaggerated, but extremely quickly spoken sentence.

“Marbles and butter,” he said with a laugh.

“When I was a kid in school, my counselor always said I had marbles in my head. I’m assuming she was right. And yeah, I love the smell of butter and toast now,” I said.

“Why’s that?” he asked

I raised my shoulders, held them in place, and widened my eyes, “Reminds me of you and the first day we kissed.”

He shrugged his shoulders as a look of almost embarrassment washed over his face.

“The smell of your shampoo makes my dick hard.”

“What?” I snapped back.

“Your shampoo,” he sighed, “That day, the first day we kissed, I smelled it the entire time we kissed. The stuff Ethan bought for you, the Sauvé or whatever it is. The smell of it makes my dick stiff. It’s weird. Well, it’s not weird, but it is. Now, every time I smell it, it drives me insane.”

“I can’t eat a piece of toast without getting all wet,” I giggled.

He raised his finger in the air as if he’d made a discovery, “You just ate two pieces.”

“I had one, the other is still on my plate. But one was enough,” I sighed as I glanced between my legs.

“Off,” he said as he reached for the legs of my sweats.

I wrinkled my nose and stared at him, “Huh?”

“Take these things off,” he grunted as he pulled against the sweats.