Bootycall 2 - J. D. Hawkins Page 0,25
eggs and start collecting the shattered pieces of the cups, but the image stays in my mind. I quickly finish and go to the bathroom, pushing the door open slightly and leaning in.
It’s as beautiful as I thought it would be. I could spend hours staring at a photo of Dylan, but to see him in the flesh is something else. To see him wet, drops of water slowly caressing the hard lines of his muscles, the water bouncing off the manly firmness of his chest…despite what he just did to me in the kitchen, I’m already aching for more. I’ve come a long way since the night I first saw him, and if anything his body gets me worked up even more now that I know exactly how good he is at using it.
I step inside the bathroom and shut the door. He hears it and turns his head in surprise, smiling a little when he notices me. I open the medicine cabinet, take out a condom, and tear open the packet with my teeth, hard and swift, plenty of indication as to how I want it. I step forward, our eyes locked, and I grab his cock, already hard. I pump it a few times, roughly and tightly, the slickness of the water giving him enough protection against my ravenous appetite, then I slip on the condom.
He pulls me into the shower and I fall against him, his cock between my legs, our mouths gliding around one another’s like dancers in the dark. His knees are bent slightly, his back against the wall. I steady myself on the opposite sides of the shower and squeeze his cock between my thighs, rubbing myself gently over it. He throws his head back against the tiled wall, and I dive into his shoulder, biting at the unyielding muscle there.
He growls huskily at the pain, at the pleasure. “I’m gonna fucking tear you apart, Gemma. I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll never take another shower without thinking of it.”
“Fuck,” I moan. “Yes. Now.”
I gasp as he grabs my ass cheeks in big, rough hands, pulling them apart, and clawing aggressively. He spins me around face up against the tiled wall, nudging my legs apart with his knee and pulling my hips back, making sure I’m right where he wants me. I feel the hot water hit the small of my back, feel his hands grab again at my aching cheeks as he parts them, feel the thick head of his cock settle itself between them just before he plunges into my pussy.
“Dylan,” I pant against the cool tiles. “Oh my God.”
He moves in a rhythm, to a beat, every note struck with perfect clarity. I lose myself in a swirling storm of emotions, sensations, and eruptions. His cock presses itself deeper and deeper as his hand cups my breast in the hot wetness of the water mixing with sweat. I gasp as he pounds into me and withdraws slowly, only to slam into me again, even harder. A beautiful ache builds inside me, and his hand reaches around to flatten against my tensed stomach, stroking down to my clit and back up again. He pulls on my hair, tilting my head back, forcing my lips up to meet his in an urgent kiss. We fight to catch our breath as he continues to thrust in and out, strong and steady and relentless.
Dylan rams me harder and then eases back, a move that’s too quickly dragging me toward my breaking point. I lose sense of where my body ends and his begins. His growls of lust, his will to fuck, his increasing carnality is mine. I feel his hunger grow inside me, sending tendrils of erotic fulfillment into every corner of my being. He pushes deeper, sending me higher, until I feel like I’m riding the crest of his cock like the tip of a mountain, about to fall into sweet oblivion.
Then I feel Dylan’s hand skim down my hip, my thigh, coming back up again to cup my ass in a firm squeeze. When he trails his finger up the crack of my ass, I gasp, but he kisses the back of my neck and I find myself adjusting my stance, spreading my ass for him.
His finger presses against the puckered tightness there, a place no man has ever touched me, sending my heart racing. As he probes deeper, slipping inside, I cry out at the sensation. Dylan pauses, his lips