She followed him through a long hallway engulfed in darkness; only the creaking of their feet against the wood awakened a world that was content on silence. When he opened his bedroom door, out poured vibrant, red illumination. She stepped over the threshold and was certain her eyes looked three times their normal size.
“Oh my God, this is amazing. Cool lighting and your bedroom is magnificent! Does it always look this way?” She admired the furniture and general layout of the room. He undid his leather belt and laid it with a loud thud on his dresser.
“Minus the red rose petals sprinkled all around the room and this blinding red light, pretty much.” She blinked several times as he played with a knob on the wall, altering the colors of the overhead ceiling light that was responsible for red hue. The rubicund color slowly waned and turned to purple, then blue before cycling back to red. Ivory and cherry scented candles sat in clear jars, their golden flames jumping and swaying as a small gust of air blew past. Aiden had opened the master suite bathroom door, causing a sudden breeze, and disappeared inside. Since he left the door ajar, she could see him turning on the faucet and washing his hands and face. She glanced at the bed. It was a monstrous thing, looking significantly larger than even a regular king-sized.
California king, maybe?
She ran her hands up and down the thick black metal posts. His sheets and comforter were snow white with a dainty black trim. Gliding her palm leisurely across the material, she discovered that it was soft and cool to the touch. Well-made, indeed. Two iron nightstands stood on either side of the bed, both black, matching the rest of the furniture in the room. Off to the right was a small semi-circular desk with a laptop on it.
An abstract screensaver illustrated colorful electronic tidal waves. From the speakers poured out beautiful music—Mariah Carey’s, “My All.” There were a couple of double doors on the opposite side of the room which she presumed was his closet and a large window took up most of one wall. She made her way over to crack open the black and white curtains and peek outside at a spectacular view of the metropolis. City lights sparkled amidst the melted snow on rooftops. People moseyed about, lovers on the most romantic day of the year.
His condo was in a nice area of town, so she expected nothing less. His place was impressive, no doubt to justify a big mortgage. Though his taste in décor did not match hers, she appreciated the care he took to make everything look beautiful. Hell, it turned her on. The masculinity dripping off the place made her shudder, but in a good way. The man appeared to have a good eye; the place looked comfy, but not crowded and full of unnecessary knickknacks. He maintained the perfect balance.
She needed this moment to absorb his surroundings like a fish needed the sea. She tried to extract anything and everything she could about him from her observations—all of the truth his mouth refused to utter, but his heart, and those damn gorgeous eyes of his screamed to her.
She turned away from the window for a spell and took note of a large painting on the wall. It was right above the bed, which seemed to call her name. The painting depicted the silhouette of a man with his head down, holding the world in his hands, high above his head like an offering to an invisible God. He appeared to be in a rain storm. Streams of water washed down his body, falling from the heavens. She cocked her head to the side and studied it, wondering so much…
Is that you, Aiden? Do you carry the world while you remain neglected?
Are you a martyr, or do you suffer in silence? Is your pain authentic or imagined? From the looks of things, it is quite real and unspoken…
She had a funny feeling even his closest family and friends didn’t truly know him, and this made her all the more curious.
Just then she heard his heavy gait approach. She turned and looked at the delectable specimen of a man. There he stood, practically dripping with testosterone, his image a sight to see. The man was completely naked—a thing of pure beauty. Tall and lean, the black serpent tattoo slithering down his right shoulder and forearm. She smiled at him, and he responded with a smile of his own, one as crooked as the slight bend in his long, thick and juicy cock.
Mmmm, shit… can’t get nicer than that.
“You’re naked.” Her pussy poured a sweet potion between her thighs as she caught sight of his tight ass when he turned and fiddled with something on his dresser. “Like birthday suit naked.” She giggled.
“Yeah, and you’re still dressed.” Lying beneath the sheets, he propped his arm behind his head. He looked so comfortable, so pleased with the world he’d created for himself. Perhaps he’d invite her inside… She left the curtains partially open to draw in a sliver of the city lights and approached the man, her hips swaying in a lover’s dance. Along the way, she removed her clothing until the red cat suit and her matching bra and panties were tossed at the end of the bed. He flung the covers further off his body, waiting for her to climb up onto the bed and crawl towards him. Running her fingertips along his knees, she smiled up at him, and he didn’t take his eyes off her.
“I can’t wait to get my hands on you…” He groaned.
She looked longingly down at his hard dick, the thickness making her mouth water. It veered slightly to the right, the head a tad deeper hued than the rest. She took it into her hands; the heaviness and warmth made her pussy drip.
“I’m going to suck this big dick good, birthday boy.”
When she gave a quick flick of her tongue along the prominent ridge, he groaned and pulled her head down flush to his groin, forcing more of himself into her mouth as he gyrated and pumped his pelvis. His back arched off the bed as she followed his lead, swallowing him up greedily, tasting the smooth, delicious flavor of his cock. His groaning grew increasingly louder, spurring her on to devour him and fall under his hedonistic spell. Popping the monster out of her mouth, she let a trail of saliva and precum dangle from her lower lip. She wiped it off with the back of her hand and looked at the man from behind lovesick, hooded eyes.
“I love sucking your dick… You’ve got such a nice one, too.” She meant every damn word, too. Taking him into the throat, she practically gagged on her mannish meal. He moaned as she sucked him hard, and his desperate pumps turned to insistent thrusts. She pulled away. “I could suck it all…night…long.”