Motown Showdown by K.S. Adkins Page A

I’m going to do more than sit on it,” I offer beginning my descent. “I’m going to own it.”
    “Wait,” he says anchoring my hips. “I wanna watch, go slow.”
    With the patience I didn’t even know I possessed I went slowly. The problem was I was desperate and needed him inside of me. Guiding me by my hips and holding onto his shoulders, inch by inch I slid down and felt my body make room for him. When both knees were firmly balanced on the wood, we stayed like that unmoving. Both of us were hanging on by a thread, but we needed this moment to savor. Gage was inside of me, stretching me; I was finally his.
    “Nice ‘n tight,” he says tightening his grip. “Now get to work.”
    Excitement stole the words from my mouth, so I chose to keep it closed unless it was kissing him. With our bodies attached, eyes locked, and our mouths inch apart he was the first to cave. The second his lips touched mine; I detonated. Starting with a slow grind, I work us both up before I raise myself and begin to bounce. Taking his instructions which were, “Bounce, beauty,” and “Harder,” followed by, “Slow,” then finally his breaking point, “Fuck my dick,” I did all those things and I did them well. Don’t hate on an over achiever!
    “Gonna come,” he says into my neck.
    “Now,” I order him as I tighten up. Leaning back so I can look down and watch, he uses one hand to rub my clit, and it went from him going to come to my coming immediately. Crying out I arch back taking his upward thrusts while continuing to bounce. When it ended, and my thighs revolted, I sunk back down and fell to his shoulder.
    “That was fucking beautiful,” he says still fucking me, just softer now.
    “Mhmm,” I agree getting sleepy then snap myself out of it. “Finish me on my back,” I ask moving from the bench. Helping him up, he crowds me first then lifts me up only to lay me on the couch.
    “Open up,” he says making himself a place between my legs. “And let me in.”
    Sliding between my legs his dick has no trouble getting in. Raising his arms above my head, he moves slow but sure. Wrapping my legs around his back I keep my word and don’t break our connection. The longer we stay like this, the more intense it gets. No grunts, no moans, and no dirty talk either. Just him and me taking pleasure from each other on Rome’s dead grandmother’s couch.
    It was fucking perfect.
    “Beauty,” he says with so much tenderness I almost cried but, then he starts to tense and I know it’s time.
    “Come hard for me,” I urge him and when he did, he never broke the connection and quietly said, “Camo,” as it happened. I had waited my entire adult life for this moment. So when he wrapped his arms around me in a protective hug, I let one tear fall.
     

“You ever going to settle down, son?” This from my dad, Dick.
    “One day,” I admit. “I just haven’t found her yet.” Not true. I know who she is, she found me, I just haven’t met her in person, and that sounded fucked, even to me.
    “You’ll know when you do,” This from my dad, Peter.
    “I have no doubt.” Which was not true either. I had a million of them.
     
    Camo had to be a bad cook, suck at sewing or at least hate kids because now I could add sex to the list of things she excelled at. She was good at everything but the sex… holy shit.
    She was born to fuck. She was made to fuck me.
    And if I had any doubt if she was born for me that question was answered too. Lying here with her curled up next to me I thought of a million questions I wanted to ask, so I started with the one that bothered me the most.
    “How old are you?” I throw out while I play with her tits.
    “Twenty-four,” she says like a content kitten.
    Doing the math in my head that meant… “You said you started the wire when you were eighteen?”
    “That is correct.”
    “That was six years ago.”
    “Correct again,” she says kissing my chin.
    “You’ve been watching out for me