Labor of Love

Seven

Moving so he was stretched out beside her, Bobby forced himself to ignore how uncomfortably tight his fly was. He’d always been a well-endowed man–such a thing couldn’t be hidden, whether he wore leather or denim. Still, such a thing could be as embarrassing as it was uncomfortable at Times, and he refused to be distracted by such things.

        Turning his attention to making sure she found the utmost pleasure, he merely let his hand roam down her covered torso. It was Marissa’s decision how far they went, but he certainly hoped she wouldn’t stop at using just her hands. Even if he got off fifteen Times and tied his balls in knots, he wanted everything she’d to offer. Nothing short of her telling him no to something could Change his mind and stop him.

        However, it seemed that Marissa’d absolutely no Intention of rescinding her word on the matter. Even as he toyed with one of the buttons marching down the front of her shirt, she let her own hands roam just as freely as his own.

        She seemed genuinely interested in learning all his planes and angles, her fingers gently toying with the nubs of his nipples. The bassist couldn’t help a groan that was equal parts pain and pleasure, which seemed to bring her up short. A soft chuckle bubbled up from his throat, the only reason he stopped her being so he could light the lantern she’d brought with her. Once it was lit and they’d at least dim Light with which to see by, he settled next to her on his side again.

        “OhmiGoddess,” the young Witch breathed, her eyes widening once they’d roamed down and locked on his crotch.

        “Yeah, it’s not thatcha hurt me–not Intentionally, that is,” Bobby chuckled.

        “I’ve never seen such a thing happen to a man,” she mused, gently pushing him onto his back.

        “’Cuz it doesn’t unless a man’s aroused, sweetheart,” the bassist told her, unable to help gasping and bucking when she gently touched his straining fly.

        Marissa gasped sharply as she jerked her hand back like he’d bitten her.

        “Hey, it’s all right,” he said, gently grabbing her wrist and bringing her hand back to him. “It only hurt ’cuz my fly’s tight around it, not ’cuz you hurt me.”

        The young Witch seemed dubious, even as she allowed her hand to be pressed back to his swollen crotch.

        “Jesus, this is gonna be the Death of me,” Bobby groaned, his head tilting back as he let her explore.

        Careful to keep her touch gentle, she allowed her fingersta roam along the waistband of his jeans. She was enthralled by how the muscles of his abdomen jumped as much as his crotch seemed to twitch. But she was even more enthralled by the belt encircling his hips and holding up the jeans covering him.

        Marissa managed to get the strip of leather unbuckled, which revealed how to open his fly. She was familiar with the concept of a button, so she already knew how to get it open. However, she wasn’t familiar with the thing that seemed to draw a line down his hardened ridge.

        Bobby chuckled as he reached down to open his zipper since he could tell she didn’t know how. Her eyes seemed to widen even more, and he was sure that was due as much to seeing how a zipper worked as getting her first good look at his crotch. After all, he’d chosen to go commando that Morn since his only pair of boxers hadn’t quite been dry. It wasn’t like he was hiding such an impressive sight without clothing or the like.

        “So big and thick,” the young Witch breathed, gently running a finger down the vein of what’d be his underside, if he were face-down.