“I’m sorry,” he started. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I just—” He jammed his fingers into his wet hair. “I don’t give a fuck about stretch marks. I just couldn’t stand the thought of someone else…having you.” He turned away, facing into the pounding spray. “Fuck. That sounds insane. It is insane. Jesus. This can’t—”
I didn’t wait for him to finish. I slipped between Con and the tiled shower wall and dropped to my knees, soaked scrubs and all. I didn’t want to hear him say what this could or couldn’t be. I didn’t want limits. Didn’t want restrictions. For once in my life, I wanted no boundaries. No guidelines. No can’ts. I struggled with the button of his jeans, and his words dropped off.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Shut up,” I told him. It was exactly what I’d told him downstairs, when I’d had my first spur of boldness. It was time to follow through, and I wanted to be the aggressor. I wanted to take what I wanted without thinking.
I yanked at his zipper and tugged his jeans down his legs.
Hello.
The man went commando.
Con’s erection bounced as the sodden denim puddled on the floor.
And hello again.
My eyes widened. If I were a cartoon, they would have bulged right out of my head.
A silver ball winked from the top of the head of Con’s penis, and a matching ball glimmered directly on the other side.
“That’s new.” I wasn’t even aware I’d said the words out loud until a burst of Con’s laughter echoed in the shower.
“Is that gonna be a prob—”
Con’s words cut off, as though he’d been strangled, when I gripped the base of his shaft and licked him from root to tip, tonguing the bottom silver ball when I hit the head.
“Shit, woman.”
His thighs flexed, and I imagined that his knees went a little bit weak. I liked that idea.
You just want to be the woman to bring this man to his knees.
I didn’t deny the voice in my head, but I did wonder if I’d know what to do once I got him there. The vivid memories of that night played through my mind.
Yeah, I’ll know what to do when I get him there… but only because Con had taught me.
I closed my mouth over the head of his cock and played with the piercing before taking him deeper. His girth stretched the limits of my lips, and even with my hand holding the base, there was no way I’d be able to take the rest of him.
Con was…a big man. A really, really big man. Like the largest penis I’d ever seen in person or on internet porn. Not that a lady would ever admit to looking at such things. It wasn’t my fault that Elle had instituted a ‘dick of the day’ texting ritual.
Con’s hands found their way to my hair, and he smoothed it back, gripping the makeshift ponytail with his fist. My movements slowed as he cupped my cheek and guided me.
“Just like that, baby. Just like that.” He groaned. “Jesus fucking Christ. Yeahhh.” His hips surged forward, and his cock hit the back of my throat. Tears sprang to my eyes as I gagged.
Con slid out. “Sorry about that.”
I didn’t let him apologize any further.
“Shut up.”
“You seem to really like telling me that.”
“Only because you don’t seem to know when to be quiet.”
“Bossy.”
I tongued the head of his cock. “You have a problem with that?”
“You’ve got my dick in your mouth, princess. I don’t have a problem with any-damn-thing.”
Speaking of his dick in my mouth, I swallowed it down again. It became my personal mission: I was going to deep throat this man. My gag reflex would have to submit.
“Whoa, baby.” Rubbing his thumb along my cheek, he added, “You don’t have anything to prove.”
I always have something to prove. My eyes must have telegraphed my thoughts, because he smiled. “Type A. Goal-oriented.” He shook his head. “I should know better than to try to slow you down.”
He stepped back, pulling his thick cock from my mouth inch by inch. The head slipped through my lips with a pop.
“What are you—?”
Con reached down and lifted me to my feet.
Sometime during my drop to my knees and my enthusiastic blowjob, the drawstring of the scrubs had come undone. And as I stood, they slid down my legs and landed in a heap on the floor.
I backed up, the cool tile meeting my shoulder blades. I stood just close enough to the wall to be out of the spray. Con moved closer, his chest pressing against mine. It was like hiding beneath a waterfall. My nipples puckered against his skin.
Con’s hands slicked down my arms until they found my fingers. Pulling my wrists above my head, he pinned them against the wall. He reached up and batted the showerhead above me out of the way, and the spray changed directions. Stepping back a foot, he surveyed me.
Except for my thin lace underwear, which revealed more than it covered, I was stripped bare.
And so was he.
Instead of giving in to my insecurities about my body, I got distracted by his.
Jesus. The man was a living, breathing work of art.
If my panties weren’t already soaked, they would be now.