Chapter 9

"You do seem to like carrying me around, Steven."

"It's fun. Largely because it drives you crazy, really."

"Brat."

"And your point is?"

"I brought my crutches, you know."

"What fun would that be?"

"You need a hobby."

Arriving in his bedroom, he gently set me on the side of the bed. Suddenly we were both a touch awkward, knowing what we were there to do but unsure where to start. Deciding to try to reassert some control over the situation, I reached out and started unbuttoning Steven's shirt. His chest was mostly smooth, with just a hint of fuzz in the centre. With the lights still on, I could appreciate the muscle definition in his shoulders and torso that I'd never noticed before, and I briefly wondered where he had achieved that, as he hadn't spent much time in the gym since we'd met. I tugged the end of the shirt out of his waistband, and he shrugged his shoulders to help it fall to the ground. I grabbed a couple of belt buckles and used them to pull him towards me, and I buried my face briefly against his flat stomach. As he played with my hair, I resumed work, popping the snaps on his jeans and struggling to slide them off his hips. They eventually came off, and it left him just in his underwear.

In past relationships, all the men's undies I'd seen had come in two varieties - boxers and briefs. Boxers, while often decorated with cutesy patterns, essentially looked like shorts. They revealed little, and I always found them a bit less than totally sexy, although anyone I'd discussed it with claimed they were more comfortable. Briefs, on the other hand, were tighter, thinner, and revealed much, but I had heard there were confining, and tended to bunch uncomfortably. Steven's, however, were different.

Tighter than boxers, but covering more area than briefs, they looked unbelievably sexy. They emphasized the curve of his ass, and his impressive erection was straining against the fabric. I shivered in fear at the same time that I licked my lips in anticipation. Strangely mixed reaction, I know, but there it was. He was incredibly sexy and intimidating as all hell simultaneously. Making a snap decision, I carefully extricated him from his (what I would later learn were called) boxer briefs, and before he could object, I leaned forward and licked the shaft of his hard cock from base to tip. It bobbed slightly with his heartbeat, and using one hand to stabilize myself against his hip, I grasped him with the other and held the head out so I could engulf it in my mouth.

He groaned and cursed under his breath as he felt my lips surround him. A couple of my ex-boyfriends and I had practiced the fine art of oral sex a lot, and I had been told I was fairly good at it, but I'd never had the opportunity to practice with one of this size. I had to stretch my mouth quite a bit to avoid scraping him with my teeth, and knew I'd never get much past the head in without gagging. Instead I concentrated on the head, swirling my tongue and sucking softly, using my hand to gently stroke the shaft. I felt his hands settle in my hair, but to my distinct pleasure he did not grab me or try to force himself deeper, he simply stroked my crazy curls and let me do as I wished.

I continued to suck and caress, tilting my head up to make eye contact. It didn't take long before he growled my name and tried to pull away. I held on with hands and suction, and when he came he filled my mouth with semen. Like I said, I'd never been overly fond of the taste in the past, but to my surprise there was no bitter tang like I had been expecting, just a slight salty flavour that was quickly gone. I continued to gently suck and milk his shaft until he was completely finished, and he shuddered and collapsed onto the bed beside me. His hands were shaking as he reached out to pull me into an embrace, awkwardly sitting beside each other on the edge of the bed. His breathing slowed, and he sighed.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to." I think the answer surprised him.

"I told you we were doing this my way."

"You didn't think I was just going to quietly go along with that, did you?"

He grimaced, before responding. "I suppose I should have known better."

"Yup."

"Alright, look. Now that you've had your fun..."

"Are you saying you didn't find it fun?"

"That's not what I..."

"Perhaps I need to try it again to improve my technique?"

"No! That's not ... I didn't ... stop laughing at me!"

"I'm not laughing. Not one giggle or guffaw from over here."

"I see that look on your face. Just you wait. I'll wipe that smug smile off of there yet. Vengeance will be mine."

"That's what I'm hoping for!"

With a laugh of his own, he leaned in to kiss me. I turned my head, telling him I needed to brush my teeth or at least gargle first. He firmly placed one hand on each side of my face, and heedless of my concern about semen breath, proceeded to thoroughly addle my brain. The kiss was intense, and I didn't even notice when he started slowly unbuttoning the rest of my very rumpled blouse. He slipped it off of my shoulders, and I tossed it carelessly off the bed. His hands on my skin felt like they were setting me on fire, and burning trails followed his finger tips down my neck and shoulders, across my abdomen, and up my back. He struggled momentarily with my bra, and then gave a breathless, embarrassed laugh when I unclipped it at the front. It joined my shirt on the floor, and he pressed me back onto the bed, halting the kiss long enough to look me over, lust evident on his handsome face. He began stroking me with his free hand, starting at my cheek, and then down my neck, my shoulders, over the centre of my chest down to my stomach, avoiding my aching breasts, and I hissed.

"Patience. Vengeance, remember?"

The surgeon who'd done my breast reduction had been excellent. Still, there were scars visible. They'd warned me that nerve damage could happen, and that my nipples might become numb or tender; they hadn't mentioned that they could just as easily become hyper-sensitive. Just the slightest brush of his fingers against the sides or bottoms of my breasts left me gasping, and when he noticed he began lightly tracing his fingers over the faint scars, making me tremble.

I almost had an orgasm on the spot when his lips finally closed over one hard nub and his hand squeezed the other breast. I bucked underneath him and he held on, sucking and caressing, as I squirmed. Desperate, I reached up and starting undoing my pants; he swatted my hands away and teased me for a few more minutes while I gasped and groaned. Finally he finished what I started and helped me slide out of the pants. I was wearing sexy, black lace panties, and he stroked his fingers over them appreciatively before urging me to lift my butt so he could remove them as well. The aroma of female arousal was obvious, and I blushed; Steven just smiled.