Boomer mumbles something about ‘I doubt it because the old man is a grump’ before hanging up the phone.
I toss mine on the table and take one last look at Alicia before heading to the bathroom. It’s nice. Marble floors and glittering gold granite countertops. The shower is to the left with a massive showerhead and the soaking tub is to the right.
I do my business first, then wash my hands, staring at my reflection.
This time when I see my eyeless face, I don’t mind it so much this morning. Alicia really didn’t care. She kissed the horrible skin, the socket itself, and not once did she look repulsed.
She accepts me more than I accept myself.
I touch my face to feel the skin, but it doesn’t compare to her touch. Hers is filled with love while mine is filled with self-hate.
But this morning… I hate myself a little less.
Giving myself a break for once, my feet patter against the floor as I make my way to the shower stall and flip the silver handle. The hot spray comes out immediately and I jump back, forgetting about my damn brace.
I can’t get it wet.
“I got it.”
I look over my shoulder to see Alicia bending down, unstrapping the Velcro and tossing it to the side.
“Are you okay?” she asks, running her fingers over my injury.
“I’m fine. It wasn’t ready to come off just yet. I have to put it back on.”
“I didn’t hurt you? Is your back okay?” She examines it too, but all that’s left is yellow bruises, a sign of healing. “We should have waited before we…” She clears her throat and blushes. “Fucked so hard.”
“Mama—” I pull her under the spray and get us wet, the water slicking up her flawless body as it roams down her tits. “—I’ve never been better. If anything, I’m more healed than I have ever been.” I lie her hand across my chest to signal what I mean. “And why the hell would we not fuck like we always have? Being inside you reminds me of why life feels so damn good, Mama.”
“Mmm, I love how you say that,” she mumbles as if she is still asleep or half-drunk.
“What?” I tease her, my hands sliding down her wet, warm body.
“Mama,” she repeats my nickname for her. “What made you call me that? Is it because I’m a mom?”
I shake my head. “No. It’s because you’re so fucking hot, I knew you’d take damn good care of me.” My hands completely cover her tits as I fondle them.
Her dark pink nipples bead under my touch even though the water is scolding hot, giving our skin a red hue.
“Have I lived up to your expectations?” She tilts her head back and the water soaks the rest of her long hair, turning the burning to a slick waterfall of mahogany.
“Oh, you’ve surpassed it, Mama.”
Her back meets the wall and we share a smile before I cover her mouth with mine. There’s no hurry, just happy lazy kisses that I could spend the rest of my life doing and only ever come up for air. I press my knee between her legs, needing her again for the tenth time in twelve hours.
I’m surprised I can still get it up.
I forget about my ankle and put all my weight back on my injured leg, then hiss, breaking the kiss and ruining the moment.
“You aren’t okay, Quin. Come on, let’s get washed up and get that brace back on.”
“No fucking way am I leaving this shower without being inside you,” I grumble, lifting one of her legs around my hip, but the pain in my ankle is too much. I stumble and my shoulder hits the wall, pain radiating everywhere now.
Especially my cock.
“Mother fucker,” I curse to myself, but it echoes throughout the stall.
“Yes, you are.” Alicia’s hands drift over my shoulders and down my biceps, giving the muscles a squeeze. She gently turns me around and pins me against the wall.
“That’s not what I meant, Mama. I never would insult you.”
“Insult? I find it a compliment. Plus, you know how much I love a little degradation every now and then,” she winks, lathering the rag with the body wash. She begins at my chest, lightly scrubbing the skin. I lift my arms, making sure to get under them as well.
“You better stop talking like that or I’m going to spank the hell out of you,” I warn, not wanting her to stop. I want to bend her over my knee and make her ass red.
She drops to her knees and slides the cloth down my stomach, the suds building in the ridges of my abs. “Maybe when you’re all healed.” The washcloth drifts by my cock and a noise of protest vibrates the back of my throat as she ignores me.
Here I am, hard and aching, and she’s teasing me, while I am in pain.
The woman does like a little torture, even if it means she’s the torturer.
Alicia hums, bouncing her head to a tune I don’t know as she cleans my left leg, then my right, then winks as she runs the cloth behind my thigh, then cleans the globes of my ass.
She gives each cheek a knead. “I love your ass. So bubbly.”
“I love your mouth. You should do something with it.”
“That so?”
I squeeze the base of my cock and guide it to her plump lips, still swollen from our kiss. I trace the outline of the velvet pillows, moaning when her lips part slightly.
“You look so good on your knees.”
She slaps my hand off my cock and replaces it with hers. I thrust my hips when I feel her touch, the skin extra sensitive from all the sex we’ve had, but I never want her to let go. Her other hand drops the cloth and it falls with a plop on the shower floor. “How long do we have?” she asks, fondling the heavy sack swaying between my legs.
“I can’t think when you’re touching me.” The back of my skull thuds against the tile that makes the wall.
Suddenly, her hands are gone, leaving me throbbing. A bead of pre-come pools along my slit, but she doesn’t lick it off or rub it off.
I’m left alone.
“I’m not touching you now,” she smirks. “How long do we have? I’m assuming you were talking to Boomer earlier?”
“Don’t talk about him when my cock is inches away from being shoved down your throat,” I bite, not liking another man’s name on her lips. “And I have to meet the guys at the High on Life to unload the merchandise. I have plenty of time.”
“So maybe another five minutes before your phone rings again. That’s okay, I can do this in under three,” she says with confidence, taking my cock in her hand and then sucking my length down her throat.
“Fuck! Goddamn it, Mama,” I grit, leaning back to enjoy the ride. My fingers run through her hair, keeping a gentle hold on the wet roots close to her scalp. “That mouth.” The sound that escapes me is one of pure primal need. A deep ache that only she can fill. I watch her, hypnotized by how amazing her mouth feels.
In and out, my girth fills her mouth, stretching her to the point that she struggles to take me. I know her eyes are watering, but the tears mix with the droplets of water. She moans as she sucks me fervently.
She is on a mission to make me come in less than three minutes.
I grab her hair in my fist and pull her down, moving faster the way she likes it. She makes her throat vibrate as she moans and hums along the length before nibbling on the spongy head with her teeth. I never knew I like a little bite, but when she sucked me for the very first time, I saw stars. She knows just the right amount of pressure to use before she backs off and causes real pain.