Under the Stars and Stripes (Under Him)

No, true, he didn’t hold a gun to their head. But he did help me get away from my dad, which made my dad realize how bad off he really was and led to this lifestyle change.

I can’t really see anything that he did to impact my mother calling, although having him in my life made the time since I last heard from her go by much faster.

I get up and hover over Simon, who leans forward and tries to lick me between the legs. For a minute I let him, but truth be told, the feeling is even better when he’s letting me ride his cock in the hot tub and the jet is lending a helping hand to maximize the power of my moment of climax.

I sit down on his cock and am very present as he goes deep inside of me. I don’t take for granted anything about him. His kindness, his talent, his humor, and certainly not his cock.

Riding it is always good, but as I’m really getting into a rhythm, I hear popping sounds, and I turn to see that off in the horizon, people are in fact beginning to launch fireworks.

“You want watch the fireworks, babygirl?” he asks me, as he tongues my nipple then bites down on it.

“Yes, Daddy,” I moan out.

He picks me up off his cock— which is disappointing— and then he bends me over a towel set to the side of the hot tub facing westward and tells me, “Hold yourself up with your elbows, but use the towel as a cushion.”

I’m so mesmerized by the show though that I nearly miss what he’s said. Thankfully, he gives a firm and exciting smack on both sides of my ass to get my attention.

“NOW!” he fake scolds. “Do what your daddy told you!”

“Yes, Daddy,” I reply.

“Spank me again, I deserve it this time,” but he’s in me before I finish the sentence, and as always, it catches me a bit off guard, but in the best way.

“I spank you when I want to spank you,” he tells me as he begins pumping in and out of me. It’s beautiful, watching the fireworks fly around in the background as I’m getting my hips pushed wider and wider apart from one another.

Simon reaches forward and pulls my hair, spanking me again.

“God, I love the way your ass bounces every time it claps together with my thighs. You are the most beautiful fucking woman on the face of the earth.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” I tell him. “Go deeper.”

Pop!

He’s spanked me again.

“I do what I want, and you’ll like it or you’ll get none.”

“Not none, daddy. More– muh– more– puh- puh- plee–”

It’s too late. I’m coming and I think he is too because his speed level has just been kicked up to as high as it’s ever gone before and he’s howling like a werewolf as if he’s feral.

I sit back on his cock when he pulls and takes a seat on the step. I could go again and again and again, but I let him rest and just give his dick a nice little warm place to snuggle up until he’s ready.

“Hey, can I tell you something?” I ask him, as I lean forward his kiss him on the lips.

“Anything, baby,” he says.

“You’re my hero. Literally the hero in my story. And I thank God for you every day.”

“That’s sweet,” he says. “But truth be told is that you’re the hero in your story. I’m just the lucky guy who got to fall in love with the hot chick who turned out to be a badass superhero.”

I smile. And when I kiss him again, I can’t stop doing it.

Two months later and I’ve still got these butterflies or whatever you want to call them. And there’s definitely still a spark between us that I don’t think always exists for two people who care about each other.

And if you don’t believe me, well… then just look over toward the western sky at all those fireworks. Then you tell me we don’t have a spark.

Epilogue - Simon

One Year Later on the Following Fourth of July

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” Sarah says, in a much higher pitch than she usually speaks in.

“It is kind of crazy, isn’t it?” I tell her, as I look into the full-length mirror on the back of the door inside this small church classroom that I’ve just gotten dressed in.

Sarah had come behind me to give me the five-minute warning, and now Tony is freaking out because he lost his socks and only brought one pair to the wedding.

“How did you lose them?”

“I don’t know because they were on my feet when I left this morning and now they’re gone!”

“Wait…” I stop him. “You were wearing them in the tennis shoes you wore here?” I asked him, as he traipses around the room barefoot, looking for his misplaced socks.