Page 7 of Needing His Touch
“Goddamn,” I grunt while in the shower. All fucking day, my head has been filled with Carsynn. It was hard as hell to keep my attention on work after setting my eyes on the beautiful waitress Bernie had been hounding me about. I was reluctant at first, until I saw her for myself. I knew it, Gramps knew it. The only one who may not know it yet is Carsynn.
And she will.
Tonight.
The minute she’s home, I’ve got every intention of marching my ass over to her apartment, banging on her door until she opens it, and tossing her over my shoulder before bringing her back to my place. Once we’re here, I’ll use more than my words to tell her how things are going to play out. How I’m claiming her as my woman, and how I’m gonna be her man from now until fucking ever.
I close my eyes, head tipping back, the water beating on my back and shoulders as I think about everything I’d do to my tiny fairy. Carsynn would strip herself bare for me. I’d watch the entire time, biding my time instead of tearing off her clothing. My hand wraps around my thick dick as I imagine her naked body in my mind, tits that would fit perfectly in my hand, nipples as ripe and red as berries. A narrow waist, so slim the tips of my fingers would touch as I wrap them around her midsection. My cock flexes in the palm of my hand, spurring me on, and that’s when I plant my feet further apart instead of using the wall to prop my body up. No fucking way am I going to stop jacking my cock in order to use the tile wall. I lick my lips, my mouth watering at the thought of tasting her everywhere. Fuck, I’d be the one falling to my knees, getting up close and personal with her pussy. Now, I’m busy thinking about how wet Carsynn would be for me. I’d bet my left nut she’d be dripping. There’s an innocence about my fairy. I’ll bet she’s not shaved, not so much as a landing strip, probably just trimmed, and now I’m thinking about something else entirely than getting my mouth all over her body.
Carsynn on my bed, feet planted on the mattress, thighs spread, a towel beneath her as I shave her completely bare. “Fuck.” My body locks up, muscles straining, and my balls draw up tightly. It won’t be much longer until my cum is swirling down the drain in the shower. That doesn’t mean I’m ready for this to end. I’d shave her with precision, not so much as nicking her beautiful skin. When she’s completely clean.
I’d do a fuck of a lot more than get my first taste of Carsynn.
I’d tease her clit with my tongue until she’s rocking her hips back and forth.
I’d wait till she’s on the edge and pull back prolonging her orgasm.
I’d do fucking everything to her.
My hand tightens around my length, and I keep the visual exactly where I want and need it as I spur my body on. My pre-cum drips at a steady pace from the tip, giving me more than enough lubricant to guide my way. Once I’ve got my head buried between Carsynn’s thighs, she’s clenching me with her firm muscles from all her time working as a waitress. That’s when I take. It’s about her pleasure, and it's also about mine. The need to know what she tastes like, to have her cum soaking my cheeks, how she’d say my name. Would she scream it, or would she whisper it breathlessly? That’s all it takes. My body takes over, the urge to come overwhelming.
“Carsynn.” Her name rumbles through the shower stall, and it’s only because I puss out and place my hand on the tile so I’m not flat on my fucking face. I come so hard, I’m seeing damn bursts of stars when I finally lift my head and open my eyes. My cum spills all over my hand, and fuck how I wish it were Carsynn’s hands, face, or tits I was painting instead of my own.
“Soon, it’ll be my little fairy in front of me,” I say quietly, stepping further under the spray, grabbing my body wash to clean off the evidence of coming all over myself. It doesn’t take my long to clean up. The way I just came and how I’ve become obsessed with Carsynn, I know my body enough that if I lingered a moment too much, my cock would be like, ‘Hell yeah, Carsynn’s involved. Let’s fucking go.’
I turn off the water, grab the towel I slung over the glass enclosure, and make quick work of drying myself off. Once I’m dry, I wrap the towel around my waist and grab my phone off the vanity. I glance at it, keeping it on me since the weather changed from bad to fucking worse. You’d think Gramps would have taken me up on my offer for him to stay with me. Nope, he didn’t do that. The old goat only asked that I chop up more wood and help him bring it inside, which is what I did, cussing him out in my head the entire time. Calling him a stubborn fool while making sure he was ready should anything happen. There were plenty of lights and extra battery packs, and the generator was ready should he need it. I’d also told him the minute he changes his mind, I’ll be on my way.
“Motherfucker.” I move the blinds in my bedroom window, looking out toward the driveway. The sun has long since set, and there the driveway sits, empty. There isn’t a sign of Carsynn’s car anywhere, and the rain is pelting down, freezing the damn concrete. My phone is in my hand. I don’t bother checking if Gramps called or texted. I’m too busy unlocking the phone and hitting his number. The only person I know who has Carsynn’s number is him. Sure, she rents the place, but Gramps currently has the paperwork at his house. A fat lot of good that’s doing me right now.
“You better not be pestering me. I told you I’m fine on my own, been doing it for too many years to count,” Gramps answers the phone with a retort. I wish it were me pestering him. Honestly, it would be a fuck of a lot easier than having to worry about a woman who’s grown and should be more than fine by herself. Tell that to my gut.
“Have you heard from Carsynn?” I ask, running my fingers through my hair while pacing, going back and forth from the doorway to the bathroom, then back to the window, where I’m hoping she’ll suddenly appear.
“No, should I have?” There’s a worry in his tone.
“She’s not home, and you see the weather outside, plus it’s dark. Would she be with Nikki or Olive?” I stop at my dresser, ripping a drawer open, grabbing a pair of sweatpants, then repeating the process for the shirt.
“Boyo, Carsynn only hangs out at the library after work, goes to the grocery store, or comes over to my place. Let me call her and see if she answers.” This isn’t boding well. I stay on the line with him. Calling the house line is a guaranteed answer. His cell phone is hit or miss. It’s well past the time since the library closed, and no way would it take her this long to grocery shop. She wasn’t home when I pulled in, and that was over an hour ago. I put the call on speakerphone, step into my sweats, then slide the shirt over my head before grabbing a pair of socks.
“Fuck, Gramps, I’m going out to find her,” I tell him. My worry is escalating as I hop on one foot then the other, trying to work as fast as I can. Carsynn’s in a little tuna can type of car, probably doesn’t have good enough tires to be scooting around on ice. And don’t get me started on the clothes. Gramps has already tried telling her she needed new shoes and a thicker coat before the weather sets in. She needs a man in her life, a man who will take care of her, to make sure she’s warm, to make sure she’s safe, and that man is damn well going to be.
“No answer,” he says after a few beats. “I’ll go out, too.” His voice is strong and steady. It’s going to take me too damn long to convince him to stay put, but I’m going to do it anyway.
“Stay put. I can’t have you sliding off the road either.” Gramps goes to respond but stops when I say, “Please.”
“Fine, go find our girl. Call me the minute you do. The house line should be good in case cell towers go out.” Last year, we were all snowed in, and a Nor’easter took down the power lines and cell phone towers. I couldn’t get to Gramps with all the snow surrounding us, and I swore to God if he was that bullheaded again, I’d carry his ass out. Shows how much of a pushover I am. We’re about to get more than a foot of snow, which can turn into more depending on the weather, and look where he’s at.
“Will do. Call the Sherriff for me, and see if he’s seen her car? That might help me narrow down my search. I’m going to put my boots on and grab a jacket. My cell will be on me.” It’ll take a minute for my truck to warm up. I probably should have brought the tow truck home, except it’s uncomfortable as fuck for Gramps, and I missed driving my truck.
“Alright, be safe, Gabe McCoy, very fucking safe.”
“Always, love you.” I know he’s worried. I would be, too, if my only living relative was about to drive out of town to look for someone who may or may not even be in town.
“You too. Get our girl.” We hang up, and then I’m rushing out of my bedroom. I’ve got a gut feeling I’m not going to like what I find, and my gut has never let me down before.
9
CARSYNN