instead wanting to go to her house.
Her house. Ugh. If she had a house, she’d gladly show it to him. But the little tiny attic space above the shop probably wouldn’t even properly fit the two of them in it. It wasn’t a place she showed anyone – not even Michelle, or Autumn, or Hannah.
It was a little crazy how over the years, she’d always managed to casually meet people at the shop, or go to their house for a party, or meet up at a restaurant. No one seemed to question where it was that Carla the Florist actually lived.
This had put a damper on her and Christian’s relationship, but finally, right now, they were alone. In the mountains.
And she very much wanted to get to second base.
Chapter 15
Christian
There's a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. It would be a pity to damage yours.
~Westley in The Princess Bride
As Christian worked his way up Carla’s plump arm, nibbling and sucking on her sweet skin, he mentally pinched himself. Was someone as gorgeous as Carla really wanting this?
He gazed up at her face even as he gently turned her arm to bare the inside of her elbow to his tongue and lips, and saw that her eyes had drifted closed and her lips were in a perfect O as she leaned back on her other arm, her tits unconsciously thrust forward.
The thrill shot through him and straight to his dick as he kissed the rapid heartbeat in the crook of her elbow. She did want this.
Not one to question extraordinary luck, he focused on not giving her a chance or a reason to change her mind. It’d been a long dry spell – longer than any red-blooded male should have to endure – but that was about to come to an end, and with one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met.
If he wasn’t busy trying to undo the buttons on Carla’s shirt, he would’ve dropped to his knees and thanked God on the spot.
“Oh…” Carla breathed as he was finally able to pull her shirt away, bearing her chest to the gentle breeze, and to his gaze. He stroked his fingertips over the tops of her breasts and listened with satisfaction to the quick intake of breath.
With a bit more fumbling than he liked to admit – it’d been a while since he’d undone the clasp of a bra – he slid her shirt and her bra down her arms and into a pile on the blanket. He’d been a tit guy from the first day he’d had a rush of teenage hormones hit, and Carla’s were magnificent. He cupped one in each hand and motorboated between them, sure that he’d died and gone to heaven. Carla laughed at his antics, and he looked up at her with a naughty grin.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that. I could die happy with my face buried in your chest.”
“You’re a boob guy?” Carla asked, and he couldn’t help his laugh at the question. Somehow, he hadn’t thought she’d know about that kind of thing.
“I mean, I like all of your curves—” he nipped playfully at her breast, “—but your tits are definitely at the top of the list.”
“That’s good,” she said breathlessly, “because it’s not like I’m running low on them.”
“No, no you are not,” he breathed, deciding that it was time to show her just how much he loved her tits. If she was talking in complete sentences, he wasn’t doing his job.
Cupping her breast in one hand, he bent over and began suckling on the rosy pink tip. “Oh!” she gasped, her voice a full octave higher than normal. “Ohh…oh, Christian.” She’d wrapped her fingers in his hair and was tugging him closer, her breath rapid. “Yes. Oh. I…”
She wasn’t making a bit of sense.
Good.
He switched to her other breast, the tip just begging for his tongue as she squirmed and panted beneath him. It pebbled in his mouth as the pitch of her cries increased.
“Chri…ohhh…yeesss…”
Forget full sentences – she wasn’t even saying his full name.
He laid her the rest of the way down and then made his way to her slacks. A little fancier than people normally wore on a hike up in the mountains – no doubt his fault for not specifying what they were going to do on this date – but right now, all that mattered was that they contained heaven. Working the button and zipper with trembling hands,