Sacking The Player

“Love you, Daddy.”

I can hear my mom in the background. “A boyfriend. Why is she telling you and not me?” Here we go.

“Hey, I love you but yeah, I gotta go.”

We hang up after Mom starts in wanting to know fifty questions about Tate. I can’t deal with her. I love her but she is so overbearing. She gets way into my business. I hope she doesn’t make Tate uncomfortable. My mom is extremely open and thinks it’s okay to talk about my sex life. I shudder remembering her talking to me about her G-spot once.

I piddle around the room cleaning and organizing. My phone chimes with a new email. Keith. Ugh. I’ve not talked to him since I got serious with Tate. It only says Happy Thanksgiving. Ugh. Delete.

I’m almost in bed when someone knocks at my door. Tate.

I open the door to see he has a cut under his left eye and his knuckles are bleeding.

“What happened?” I pull him to the bathroom intent on cleaning him up. He smells like smoke.

“Fucking Tex got us in a fight. He was over at the house wasted. I wanted to make him sleep it off, but the dickhead insisted on going to some pool hall. He grabbed some biker’s woman on the ass, and yeah, you can fill in the rest.”

I shake my head and pull his ripped shirt over his head. “You need a shower.”

“Only if you wash me.” He grins.

“Wishful thinking.” I’m only teasing, I am so washing those yummy abs.

I turn the water on and grab some towels.

Tate undresses and steps under the spray of the water. I pull my tee over my head and slip my panties off before getting in behind him. It’s really not big enough for the two of us, but I’m not going to complain about being pressed up against him. Soaping up the washcloth, I start at his shoulders, massaging him as I wash. He groans in appreciation as I work down to his calves. When he turns around so I can continue up his front, I’m eyeball level to the head of his dick as it juts out, erect.

Licking my lips, I have to have him in my mouth. Something I’ve never wanted to do so damn badly for any guy before Tate. I wash him off. Staying down on my knees, he has no idea I am about to suck him off. His eyes are closed as the water washes down his torso.

My eager tongue licks his length, and his eyes pop open as he utters, “Fuck.” His hands go to the top of my head, egging me on as my lips cap over the head.

My tongue wraps around him as I taste and suck on my very own King lollipop. My lips are stretched around him as he thrusts in and out, fucking my mouth. The water is spraying overhead, raining down on us as my fingers dig in his hips.

A hiss passes through Tate’s lips. “Shit, Amaya. I’m so damn close.”

I moan as he finds his release, swallowing the taste of him down.

It isn’t long before he is shutting the water off and taking me to bed. I don’t attempt to get dressed. Tate is shoving me on my bed and his mouth is on me. His tongue sweeps over my clit as he pushes a finger inside me. My knees squeeze against his head, as he takes his time teasing and pleasing me. With my fingers in his hair, I beg him, “Make love to me.”

He grins up at me. “What kind of boyfriend would I be, if I didn’t give you the full experience?”

I yank on his hair and he laughs. His laughter vibrating against my sensitive skin.

I pull his hair harder. “Not funny.”

He looks at me with a lazy smile, and I melt under his touch as he adds a second finger.

His free hand hooks under my knee and he really gives me the full Tate King Sex God experience.

**

I’m lying in my bed after having my way with Tate, or him having his way with me? Who cares, it was amazing. I smile. I feel so content after three orgasms. One by his mouth, one by his hands, and the last by him burying himself deep inside me.

“Babe?” Tate says, his voice sounds tense.

“Yeah?”

“I have to admit something.”