Going For A Dry Land Sail PT2

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Johnny was a tease ''If you got a problem with it, say so." Johnny's hands are suddenly pushing up your shirt (his shirt, technically), following the curves of your body until his large hands meet soft breasts. Johnny feels blessed that you've been home with him all day; no bra.

Was there a problem? No, you couldn't think of one. Or couldn't care to think of one, because Johnny starts rocking his hips. Using your body for friction to grind against, and his cock just gets harder and more sensitive and he's eventually letting out deep little groans and suddenly, his boat is the best place to fuck on.

One of your legs curl around his hip, and that's all the answer he needs.

His hands are suddenly pushing your shirt up and off, tossing it to the sawdust-covered floor. The basement was always a little warm, thank God, and Johnny himself was stoking a fire in you that would've kept you warm in the middle of winter. His hands glide across your skin again; more hungry, this time. They have a specific destination in mind.

Johnny leans in and kisses you hard so you'll focus on his lips instead of his hands. When they're in your shorts (again, his shorts technically), you let out a muffled yelp into his mouth. Followed by a moan when his fingers are in between your legs.

The bourbon has really done its part. Johnny is honestly surprised at how soaking wet you are. How easy he can curl in a finger, and then another because you whimpered out his name so pretty. He moves them in and out, eating up all your little reactions, and it only makes him more eager to slip his cock in.

"Do you wanna cum, sweetie?" Johnny asks, voice hoarse but that's honestly no surprise. You nod and start rocking your hips down on his fingers, and it's driving him crazy. "Right now?" You nod, obviously, but then he gives a light frown. Feigning confusion, and it immediately worries you. "Nah, I think you need a closer look at what a good job you did on the boat."

His fingers stop. He's pulling his hand away, straightening up, and unhooking your leg from his hip. You were so close. So painfully close. And you didn't even care that Johnny was pulling his sweater off; you were pissed. ''you really are a horrible tease," you grumble.

"Hey, be nice." He's leaning in again, hands gripping your arms to stand you up. And it's a challenge; your legs aren't exactly stable, right now. But they don't have to be. Johnny quickly turns you around, back to his front, and carefully pushes you against the boat.

And the wood isn't exactly comfortable. Far from it, actually. But the coarse wood pressing into sensitive skin is put on the back burner when Johnny pushes your shorts down your ankles. Underwear, too. Completely bare to him and trying to get used to the sensation of wood digging into your skin, because you have a feeling it'll get worse.

His chest is pressing against your back, now. Breath hot against your neck. "Got a good look at the screw?" He asks, breath heavy but still having that teasing tone of voice.

The screw? "What?"

Johnny smirks at your frustrated question. "Just want you to remember what you did. Ya know, for next time."

This stupid game he's playing is getting damn old. "I swear to God, John-"

"What are you gonna do? Leave?"

No. And he knows you won't.

There's a wet kiss pressed to your neck. Johnny rolls his hips against your ass, letting you know he's still hard. "What makes you think I'm not?"

His hands disappear between your bodies. And finally, you hear the buckle of his toolbelt come undone. It hits the floor with a loud noise, metal meeting concrete, before the sound of his zipper follows suit. Johnny starts pressing kisses over your shoulder and neck while his hand reaches down, taking your left leg and pulling it back. Giving himself as much room as possible.

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