The Sun and the Moon (Giving You ... #1) (22 page)

BOOK: The Sun and the Moon (Giving You ... #1)
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Pop Rocks

 

 

BY 9:45 ON HALLOWEEN
night, the following Friday, all of the trick-or-treaters had ceased ringing my doorbell and asking for candy. Ryan had come over to help pass out candy and now gazed at me, with an undecipherable, but intent, look on his face. I went to the front door to turn off the porch light, signaling that we were closed for business.

"Amelia."

I looked at him. We had spoken on the phone or texted every day that week, and he had spent the night on Wednesday night, leaving super early in the morning to get to Southwinds the next morning. It felt like we couldn't get enough of each other, and we were spending as much time with each other as we could. But both of us were busy at work—me with my new case and him with running a business—and I was really looking forward to a quiet, long weekend with him.

Neither one of us had dressed up for Halloween, although we had felt the Halloween spirit, such that it was, by checking out the dozens of Disney princesses and ninjas who had knocked on my door. We watched
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part II
and ate dinner in the pauses between visitors.

Every time the doorbell rang, he answered the door with me, talking with the kids, asking them about their costumes or how many more houses they were going to go to, and generally being an active participant in the process. This had the added bonus of him kissing me every time I closed the door. Score! In my neighborhood, there were a lot of families and a lot of kids, so we were up and answering the door all night long. Just so you know, that's a lot of sucking tongue with Ryan. No complaints.

But now the stream of ankle-biters had finally petered out and the doorbell had stopped ringing for about a half hour.  I raised my eyebrows at him. He raised his eyebrows back and said, "I think we need to cross the rest of your rules off your list, tonight."

I burst out laughing. And then I immediately felt a pulse run through my body at the thrill of his words. Dammit, Ryan. He still had this effect on me. But of course I couldn't let him get away with a pronouncement like that, even if I was ready to at least try it.

"Oh you do, do you?" I sassed back.

"How many rules have you broken?" he countered.

I thought about it for a moment and then answered, "1, 2, 3, 4, 7, and 10, with likely 6 and 9 gone too."

He rolled his eyes. "That doesn't help, babe. Nobody but you has this crazy sex list memorized. Name the ones we’ve broken."

"Rule 1. We have sex in the light."

He smiled. "As it should be. Well, maybe we'll have to have a go at it in total darkness, just for contrast."

I considered this. Feeling my way around Ryan instead of seeing where I was going. Running my fingers down his … Yeah, that would be fun. Time to consider putting a Rule back on the list for the sake of completeness. I started to tell him the next Rule, and said aloud, "Rule 2," and then remembered, oh shit, that's "no masturbation." Of course, being Ryan, he totally figured it out from the panicked look on my face, and shook his head.

"Doesn't count," he pronounced.

"What do you mean?"

"Look, I mean, it's good that you broke this ridiculous ‘no masturbation’ rule, but I haven't seen it. I've seen a picture of your magic wand, and I expect to see you show me how it works. I want to see you make yourself come. Put it on the list for tonight."

"Does that count as a toy?"

"Sure."

"Then that's breaking Rule 6."

He nodded his head as if to say, "Fair enough."

"Okay, shit, you're better at dirty talk than I am, Ryan, okay, Rule 3, um, doggy style, done, Rule—"

"—we're not even close to 'done' with doggy style, but point taken."

"Rule 4, no oral sex," I continued—

"—same." Fuck. Now I was thinking about doggy style and oral sex with him. Not necessarily a bad thing.

"Rule 7, no spending the night and Rule 10, uh, terminology, have been long gone."

He nodded gravely, pretending to be serious. Bastard.

"And you talk dirty sometimes, so that's Rule 9."

"I haven't even started to talk dirty to you," he replied in that low rumble.

Oh shit, what was I getting myself into?

"Ooh-kay," I said. "Well, feel free to break it whenever you like. I figured you already had. So the, uh, not broken ones," I stuttered out. He nodded.

"No submission, no loss of control, nothing demeaning."

"I can see why those are on your list," said Ryan, surprising me. "Some people don't like to be submissive. Or dominant. And I can see why you would not want to do anything demeaning. Frankly, I wouldn't really get off on making you do anything truly demeaning."

I let out a breath of air that I didn't know I was holding. But then he continued.

"Still, for completeness sake, just to get out all of this shit you've been carrying around, I think we should just go for it."

Eyes wide open, breath stopped, body frozen, hands trembling.  Mine, that is.  He seemed fine.  Damn voodoo.  It still affected me.  At least I could talk.

Maybe.

"What?" I asked him.

"Look, I'm not saying I want to tie you up and fuck you …. Well. Hmm." He paused. Then he went on. "You know how I am. I say what I want us to do in the bedroom. I don't hold back. But it's hot for you to take control too. Or at least to try to," he teased.

I rolled my eyes at him.

"It might be a different kind of pleasure than I'm normally into, but I think we should try it. And take turns. Think of it as a bedroom game. And if either of us wants to stop, we stop."

Confused, I asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, we try it where you submit to me, and then we switch and I submit to you. You have total control over me and I have total control over you. Both of us trust each other not to hurt the other person. Right?"  I nodded.  "And, while like I say, I'm not really into it as a lifestyle, a little bit of play never hurt."

He continued, "This isn't real BDSM, Amelia. This is just seeing what it feels like to be bossed around in a sexual way. If you're not into it, I won't make you do it, but I'm wondering what it feels like on both sides."

"You haven't done this?"

"Not really," he answered.

So, I had thought about this before, when I had texted Ryan earlier this month about not doing anything demeaning. I still didn't want to do it. But I had also experienced the fact that what I thought something would feel like with Ryan in my imagination, often felt different in real life, and what it really felt like with him, was normally fucking awesome.

"Okay," I squeaked. "You first." Then I held my breath, again, and waited for what he would do.

A subtle change came over Ryan, as he stood up a little straighter and looked me in the eyes.

"Bedroom. Now," he said with authority.

I started to turn and walk away from him and he stopped me. "I think you forgot something."

My eyes widened and I looked at him, totally confused. What the fuck was he talking about?

"If I'm in control, you call me 'Sir.'"

This. This was the problem.

No fucking way was I ever calling him Sir. No fucking way was I ever calling anyone Sir, if I could get away with it.

No. Fucking. Way.

I shook my head. "I can't do this, Ryan."

It seemed like he was trying to hold back laughter. "So this is as far as we get, huh? We're stopping?"

"I don't know."

"Do you want to keep going? Do you want to trade places?"

I had a vision of making Ryan crawl across the room to me, naked, gorgeous ass in the air, shoulders tilting to the ground, while I wore a Dominatrix outfit and held a whip. The thing was, I didn't really want to do that to him. I didn't like feeling like he was dominant over me and I didn't really want to be dominant over him. I liked feeling like we were partners, and he was just the leader, or guide, in the bedroom, at least most of the time.

So I started talking: "In just that short period of time, I felt humiliation, relief, turned on, disgusted, and worried where my sweet Ryan was. I don't want to be humiliated. I don't want to humiliate you. I just want to feel good. I know we're just playing and I know I'm stupid and I know that I'm taking it too seriously, but I felt like I didn't like it. At all."

He pulled me into his arms. "I meant it when I said that you didn't have to do it. And I meant it when I said that I would let you do it to me."

"I don't want to do this, Ryan."

"So we're going to keep 'nothing demeaning' on your list."

"Yeah."

He smiled.  I had my Ryan back.  Phew.

"It's your list, babe. Keep whatever you want on it. My job is just to push you on it, but push back if you want. So, you done for the night or can we keep going?"

"So, I had an idea."

Ryan looked at me in interest.

"What kind of idea?"

"A sexual idea."

"All ears, Movie Star."

"So I've been reading a few well-written, excellent, high quality, literary books."

"Smut?" he teased.

"Yeah. Well, a couple of them had food fantasies involving whipped cream, or chocolate sauce, or peanut butter, and licking it off of each other."

"I've never heard of peanut butter."

"Sometime, Ryan, we'll try peanut butter. Well, I was thinking of—"

"Wait, you can’t just say, 'Sometime, Ryan, we'll try peanut butter' and not let me enjoy that image—your pink tongue and those lips licking me. Maybe you're on your knees, your gorgeous dark hair and creamy skin sucking me off. Both of us getting all hot and sticky. Maybe a shower afterward. And then in the shower …." He closed his eyes. "Yeah." He let out a breath of air.

"Waiting, Ryan."

He came to and opened his eyes and smiled. "Okay. Continue."

"Like I said, I was thinking of trying something a little different. The opposite of those."

"What, like, sriracha?"

I burst out laughing. "No. I think that would hurt. I was thinking more like, um, Pop Rocks. We have some left over from passing out candy."

Now it was his turn to burst out laughing.

I continued. "You know, you're the sensuous one. What do you think it would feel like, me sucking you off with Pop Rocks in my mouth? The candy popping around your cock …"

"It would either be incredible or warrant a trip to the hospital."

My shoulders slumped, discouraged.

"I'm up for it if you are."

My hand dipped in the bowl of candy and I grabbed three packets of Pop Rocks.  So this would be interesting.  Not bothering to move from the living room, I went over to Ryan, bopping my finger on the end of his nose, for a change.  "Let's see how this feels."  

Running my hands down his muscular chest, I came to the waistband of his jeans, undoing them and sliding them down his hips, slowly.  Then I pushed his black boxers down so that his erection, and yeah, he was hard after all that talk, sprung free.

If I'm going to do this, I'm going to get into it.  I got down on my knees before him, like he got down on his knees before me in the past, and hugged him around the waist.  I could feel his warm skin and I could tell that his pulse was racing.  As I'd never sucked a guy off before Ryan, I'd never done this before in this position.  Gently taking his cock with my hands, I rubbed my hands along it, pumping him gently, but firmly.  Then, opening my mouth, I took a tentative lick, getting a drop of precum.  I loved it.  Essence of my Sun God.

Ripping open the package of Pop Rocks, I opened my mouth and dumped some in, giggling.  Then I quickly covered his cock all over, getting the effervescent candy popping all up and down him.  I started running my tongue up and down his cock, lapping up the candy as it popped.  It made him taste sugary, of course, and the sensation was overwhelming: warm, hard cock in my mouth, candy popping on my tongue. Ryan looked down at me, eyes wide, breath shortened, saying "Fuck yeah, babe."  I used my hands and added more candy as they dissolved, licking him all over, getting the sweet taste of the candy everywhere.

I don't know that I've done something that free in my life.  It was silly, it was raunchy, it was sensuous, and it was bold. No one was watching.  So I got into it.

"I don't want to come in your mouth," he moaned.  "Come on.  Let me see you use your Ollivander wand, Hermione.  Torture me.  Let me see you pleasure yourself."

Not waiting any longer, I whipped my shirt off, undid my jeans, took off all of my clothes, and raced to my bedroom, Ryan on my heels, at first hopping with his pants down, until he got them off.  As I leaned over to the bedside table to take out my vibrator, he kissed me down my spine, holding me firmly.

"Let me see it," he repeated.  "Let me see you come."

I backed to the bed and lay down on it, not entirely sure what to do. Deciding that if I really got into it, it would be a show for him, I spread my legs wide, while he stood to the side of the bed.  I turned on my Ollivander wand, found the right setting, and tentatively grazed it against my pussy.

And I moaned.

Wet from our discussion, from playing with him, I moved the vibrator around to wherever it felt good, as he watched.

I realized that I was letting him in, again.  Never, never, never would I have let another person see me do this before.  I never did it before.  But now, watching how much he loved it?  So fucking hot.

So yeah, my body took over after a few minutes, a few minutes where he stroked himself while he watched me, and I thought that was so fucking erotic, and when the orgasm overtook me, I threw my head back and wailed.

Then, sliding on a condom, he entered me, extending the orgasm, and making me come again, until it was his turn, and he collapsed.

Mischief fucking managed
, at least for tonight.

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