“Catcher!” I screamed, as the walls of my vagina clenched and pulsed.
Once I came back down from the epic high, I found Catcher standing before me with a pleased smirk. After flicking his tongue, he said, “Pretty good, eh?”
I swept my hand to my forehead to push the sopping wet hair out of my face. “Oh, yes.”
He grinned. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before I take you standing up again.”
I bit my tongue from protesting that I wouldn’t have minded. I didn’t care where we had sex as long as we had it. We could bang on the bathroom floor, and I wouldn’t have cared. Hell, I would’ve ridden him on the toilet at that point.
Catcher turned off the shower and then helped me step out. I grabbed a towel and started drying off. When I finished, I picked up a fresh towel. I turned to Catcher and held out the towel. “Want me to dry you off?”
“I’d love for you to.”
I began at his chest, doing wide sweeps across his muscles. The fact he had a dusting of dark chest hair that spread over his pecs and then down his abdomen to his happy trail sent a tingle between my legs. At the same time, I was grateful he didn’t have a hairy back or ass.
When I grazed his erection with the towel, Catcher sucked in a breath. Instead of giving it any attention, I walked around behind him to dry off his back. I was surprised to find in the center of his back a tattoo of a heart, cross, and gun intertwined. “Interesting ink,” I mused aloud, as I rubbed the edible dimples above his ass.
“I got that after I graduated from the GBI academy. It’s something to represent who I am—a man of faith, heart, and honor. I guess the gun is an odd choice to be with the others, but it represented my career in law enforcement.”
“I like it.”
Catcher threw a glance at me over his shoulder. “You ever thought of ink?”
“Actually I have.”
Grabbing the end of the towel, Catcher jerked me around to face him again. “Where.”
“Well, not a tramp stamp.”
He laughed. “You don’t look like the tramp stamp type.” His fingers brushed against the skin above my breast. “You’re not one for a tit-tat either.”
I wrinkled my nose. “No.” I was about to add I wouldn’t have one on my ass either when his fingers swept across my abdomen. “Here?”
My revived vagina wanted to scream, “No here!” so he would touch me there. Thankfully, I managed to get ahold of myself. “I was thinking my shoulder blade or foot.”
“Good choice. Classy but sassy.”
I laughed. “If you say so.”
“Can I say suck my dick?”
I widened my eyes at his request. In my hesitation, Catcher added, “Maybe you want me to beg for it?”
“Maybe I do.”
He took my hand in his and brought it to his throbbing erection. “Olivia, baby, will you please suck my dick? Will you please run your lips and tongue over it like your hand and fingers are doing right now?”
I’d never felt such intense desire to go down on a man before, but with his deep voice, and his rock-hard cock in my hand, I was actually salivating. It wasn’t so much that I wanted to suck his cock. I needed to suck his cock.
I licked my lips. “Yes. God, yes. Here?”
“Where do you want to do it?”
Well damn. No one had ever asked me that question before. Although I’d only had sex with two men, I’d given more than a few blowjobs in my college days. With those, it had usually been the guy unzipping before doing the head push in the dick direction. If they’d thrown in a grunt, it would have been a total caveman act.
“I want you to sit on the bed.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Catcher replied. He brushed past me to leave the bathroom. He went straight to the king-sized bed and plopped down. He then widened his legs to give me room to get between them.
“Nice presentation,” I teased, as I padded across the carpet.
“Why, thank you. I must say the view you’re giving me is pretty fucking amazing, too. I mean, that dress didn’t leave much to the imagination, but damn, you have one fine-as-hell body.”
Instead of wearing his compliment with pride, my face warmed. “You really think I have a good body?” I knelt down before him on the carpet.
Catcher reached out to stroke my cheek. “Baby, I know you do.” He shook his head. “You must walk around with a bag over your head to go so long without sex.”
“Whatever,” I mumbled. After all the years of being the town’s dateless wonder, it was almost too hard for me to comprehend a man as good-looking as Catcher could actually think I was sexy. But he wasn’t just throwing out some pretty words to get in my pants. His tone and his expression appeared truly sincere. And it made sense to reason that if he truly felt I was hideous, he would have run for the hills after our Rusty Ho storeroom bang.
“I mean it, Olivia.”
Holy shit. It was as if Catcher sensed my self-doubt, although I found it hard to consider given he barely knew me. Well, he did in the biblical sense, but not in the vulnerable, insecure, chick way.
Bolstered by his compliments, I took his erection in my hand. Bending down, I ran my tongue along the main vein on the underside of his penis. When I got to the head, I swirled my tongue teasingly around the tip before I sucked the head into my mouth. Catcher groaned and fisted my wet hair as I began sliding up and down on his dick. He was the biggest guy I’d given a blow job to, so it took a few seconds to get used to his size. I bobbed up and down, hollowing out my cheeks. After a few minutes, Catcher began lifting his hips to work himself faster in and out of my mouth. One of his hands fisted the sheets while the other stayed in my hair.
His groans of pleasure fueled me on. Just as I felt him tensing up, he eased me away. “Don’t wanna waste it,” he mused breathlessly. He helped me off my knees and sat me down next to him on the bed before reaching for his pants. This time when Catcher dug a condom out of his wallet, he came back with a strip of three.
“Aren’t we cocky?”
Catcher smirked at me. “You should know since you’ve had me in both your mouth and pussy.”
I rolled my eyes. “I meant you’re cocky to think we’re going to need that many condoms.”
“I like to keep you guessing.” He leaned in to graze my bottom lip with his teeth. He then suited up in a condom. “I’m calling in that bottoms up from before.”
“Huh?”
“When we were drinking earlier, I told you I’d have you bottoms up before the night was over.”
“Oh yeah.”
“So I wanna see that perfect ass in the air.”
“As you wish.” I grinned as I pushed myself back to the center of the bed. Then I rose up on my hands and knees. When I felt the mattress dip, I glanced over my shoulder to see Catcher scooting over to me on his knees. Feeling flirtier than usual, I swayed my hips back and forth. “Is this how you wanted me, Agent Mains?”
“Hell, yes.” Catcher brought his palm down hard on one of my ass cheeks. I jumped at the pleasure-filled pain. When I stared back at him, he winked. “Thought I’d throw in a little S&M.”
“I liked it.”
Catcher’s response was to smack my other cheek. Just as the stinging began to slightly wane, he slammed hard into me, causing him to grunt and me to whimper. After that first thrust, he brought both his hands to my hips. He began a punishing rhythm of slamming into me while jerking my hips back to meet him. If there were any cobwebs left, they were getting fully and thoroughly swept clean.
His hands left my hips to come to my shoulders. He eased me up to where I was sitting on my knees. He continued pumping in and out of me, but now he had access to my breasts and pussy. As one hand squeezed and kneaded my breast, the other went to tease my clit.
I dipped my head back for him to kiss me. Damn, I loved his kisses. His tongue swirled and danced with mine as his dick kept working its magic. I could feel another orgasm building. Holy fuck. This is what I had been missing
out on all these years? After Catcher, I would never be able to go without sex six weeks, least of all six years. It wasn’t long before I cried out as the third orgasm—yes, third—of the night came charging through me like a locomotive.
Catcher maneuvered my limp body around to lie me on my back. He gave me a sexy smile as he brought my legs up to rest on his shoulders. “Fuuuuucccck,” he groaned when he thrust back into me. With a determined expression on his handsome face, he began pounding me relentlessly. We both cursed and groaned and moaned with ecstasy before Catcher’s body tensed, and he came with a thunderous yell.
He collapsed onto the mattress beside me. His chest heaved as he fought to catch his breath. He swept an arm across his forehead. “Damn,” he muttered.
“Yeah.”
He propped up on one arm to stare at me. “That was seriously amazing.”
“Yeah,” I repeated.
Catcher laughed. “Is it always like that for you? You can be honest.”
“Trust me, it’s never been like that for me.” If he only knew. Well, he knew about Eric, but that was only part of my sad sexual history.
Instead of the “I am the man” look I expected to flash in his eyes, Catcher appeared serious. “Same for me. There’s something to be said for a chick who has gone without.”
I snorted. “Thanks a lot.”
He stroked his chin in thought. “But it must be more than that because even though the storeroom sex was hot, this was mind blowing.”
“I thought so, too.”
Catcher’s intense gaze held mine as he searched my eyes. “Olivia Sullivan, where have you been all my life?”
“Lost. Searching,” I answered honestly.
Catcher leaned in to give me a lingering kiss. When he pulled back he groaned. “Damn that mouth of yours.” He grinned. “One kiss and you’ve already got my dick up and running for another round.”
“Really?” I nibbled my bottom lip as I worried about having sex three times in one night. I wasn’t sure my vagina could take it. All I could picture was it starting to smoke from overuse, or it having an electrical surge and shorting out.
“I want you riding me this time with those perfect tits bouncing for me to see.”
At Catcher’s naughty words, my vagina pulled herself off the floor, dusted herself off, and got ready to ride again. Yippee-ki-yay!
For the first time in my life, and hopefully the last, the sound of a rooster crowing jolted me out of a deep sleep. The grating noise sent me shooting straight up in bed. Frantically, my drowsy gaze spun around the room, desperately taking in my unfamiliar surroundings. The shitty polyester curtains, pressed-wood furniture, and the overall funky smell permeating the air meant only one thing.
I was in a cheap hotel/motel room.
And then as it hit me, a groan of shame escaped my lips. I slapped my hand over my eyes, trying to shield myself from the mortification as last night’s events played through my head like an X-rated movie complete with the seedy bow-chicka-wow-wow music. I couldn’t help wondering what the hell had gotten into me. Yeah¸ I’d been in a sex drought, but last week, I would have never allowed a stranger to take me home—well, to a hotel room. What made last night any different? Then I remembered my mother’s lingerie shower, coupled with my talk with Jill, and I realized where things had gone wrong.
When I glanced over my shoulder, my mistake was stretched out on his stomach, his muscular arms wrapped around the pillow. His broad back rose and fell with lumbered breaths. Heat coiled between my legs with the sheet doing a provocative peekaboo with his delectable ass. It took everything within me not to pounce on him for another round.
A big O for the road. A farewell fuck. A “see ya never again” screw.
No, no, no. I couldn’t do that. I’d been enough of a brazen hussy in the dark, but now in the light of day, I had to get a hold of myself and my raging libido. I silently thanked God Catcher was still asleep, and I could make a clean getaway.
With my limited sexual experience, I’d never dealt with a walk of shame in real life, but I had seen plenty on television and in the movies. I knew with my bird’s nest hairdo from going to sleep with wet hair and outfitted in my sexy dress, I was going to look like the Queen of Walk of Shames.
Slowly, I started shimmying across the mattress. Once I got to the edge, I eased off the bed and dropped to the floor like I was in stealth ninja mode. I picked up my dress and threw it over my head. I gave a muted grunt as I fought with the tight material. As I rolled around on the floor, I probably looked like a caterpillar stuck in its cocoon. Or a sausage being stuffed.
The thought of a sausage made me think of the fine piece of Grade-A sausage that was just a few feet away. Ugh, I was seriously pathetic. I patted around the cheap carpet for my panties. And then I remembered what had happened to them the night before. RIP Victoria’s Secret Chantilly Lace red thong.
When my hand reached out for my heels, an ache spread between my legs. Once again, a bow-chicka-wow-wow flashback assaulted my senses. I could see, and if I concentrated hard enough almost feel, Catcher’s tongue sliding across the arch of my foot, sucking on my toes the same way he did my clit. I shook my head as the heat in my vagina spread through the rest of my body. If I let myself continue the stroll down memory lane, I would combust.
It took everything within me not to go jump Catcher. After I got myself together, I rose up from the floor. Catcher still slept soundly. As I gazed at him one last time, a different ache entered my chest. Besides the sex, I had enjoyed my time with him. He had been interesting to talk to—smart, funny, kind, and a king of addictive, filthy talk. Basically, he was everything I was looking for in someone to date. Unfortunately, that could never happen now because you just didn’t turn one-night-stands into lasting relationships.
As I tip-toed across the threadbare carpet, I held my breath hoping with me being so close to a getaway, I wouldn’t wake Catcher. When I finally stepped outside the hotel room, I exhaled in relief. I tucked my head to my chest, so I wouldn’t have to meet any potential judging eyes. I even kept my resolve when the lady at the front desk called, “Good morning.”
“Morning,” I mumbled as I powerwalked by her and out the mechanized doors.
I didn’t feel completely safe until I was locked into my car. Since I didn’t want to give Catcher the chance to catch me, I gunned it out of the parking space. I kept a led foot on the two lane roads. When I got to the interstate, I glanced back into the rear-view mirror.
“Bye Catcher Mains. Thanks for the memories. And the laughs. And the mind-blowing and life-altering sex. And the five orgasms. But most of all, thanks for showing my vagina what it was born to do.
After getting home from Bumblefuck, I managed to shower and get ready in record breaking time. When I finally wheeled into the funeral home parking lot, it was after ten. I powerwalked to the backdoor before plowing into the kitchen. I didn’t want to have to deal with anyone until I had at least one cup of coffee, preferably two. Without proper caffeine consumption, I could not be held accountable for my actions.
I had just poured a steaming cup of Joe when a voice behind me caused me to jump out of my skin, sending scalding coffee onto my hand. “Shiiiiiit!” I screeched.
“Where have you been?” my mother demanded.
Ignoring her, I brought my hand to my mouth and sucked on the burning flesh.
“Olivia Rose Sullivan, you answer me.”
I turned around to find her, hand on hips and sporting her most pissed-off expression. The worst part was the fact Pease stood behind her looking equally as pissed.
I sighed. “I’m not avoiding your question, Mama. I’m a little busy at the moment tending to the third-degree burn on my hand from where you scared the ever loving shit out of me.”
“I must’ve called you ten times.”
I’m pretty sure if my mother ever wanted a career change, she could find it in interrogating suspects for the government. She was seriously relentless. Forget
forms of torture—she would just nag them to death. “I didn’t answer the phone because I was trying to get ready for work, and I didn’t want to be any later than I already was.”
“You could have at least picked up to let me know you were fine, or you could have sent me a text. You can’t imagine the horrible scenarios running through my mind at what could have happened to you.”
“Once again, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. Okay?”
While my mother might have appeared satisfied with my apology, she wasn’t quite ready to let me off the hook. “What happened to make you so late?”
I apathetically shrugged my shoulders. “Just overslept.”
Mama’s brows furrowed. “But you never oversleep—you’re always early. That’s exactly why I was so worried earlier.”
Pease hobbled over to me. After giving me the once-over, she leaned in and took a giant whiff of me. A triumphant look flashed in her eyes. “Hot damn, you’ve been with a man!”
Her exclamation sent a jolt through me like I’d been tasered. I stood there with what probably was a total deer-in-the-headlights expression. “Um, excuse me?”
With a smirk, Pease replied, “Don’t play coy. You heard me the first time.”
After glancing between her and Mama, I shook my head. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Pease huffed out a frustrated breath. “Trust me, I know the smell of sex.”
“Ew. How is that even possible when I showered?” I blurted before I could stop myself.
“Aha. I knew it,” Pease gloated as she snapped her gnarled fingers.
When I dared to look at my mother, she stared back at me with a puzzled expression. “But you were at the cabin until seven.”
“I stopped at a bar to have a drink.”
“With a side of cock,” Pease replied.
I pinched my eyes shut and willed the floor to open up and swallow me whole. At my mother’s strangled cry, I opened them. “You mean, you went home with some strange man?”