Three Strikes Ch. 08

"What do you think it is?"

"My hair," he confidently said.

I shook my head.

"But you said, and I quote, 'your hair is your best feature', at the salon, remember?"

"I did say that, didn't I? Well, it's not," I laughed.

"My arms? My legs? My face? My shoulders? My eyes? My nose?"

I shook my head at all his guesses.

"Don't you find anything attractive about me?"

He actually seemed worried.

"Of course. I like all of the things you mentioned, but they're not the feature that first caught my attention, or catches my attention every waking minute we're together."

We got into his truck and, once we were settled, he shook his head in thought as he tried to think of other possible options. He had to know the answer. There was no way anyone would accidently leave the gluteus maximus off of the list. It was an obvious choice.

"Don't be coy, Shane," I said in a mocked tone.

"Ears? Cheeks? Hands? Fingers? Toes? Feet?"

Again, I shook my head to each guess and laughed at his frustration.

"Good Lord, Shane, it's your ass! How could you be so obtuse?"

If I thought I'd seen Shane surprised before then, I was wrong. He looked at me with a mixture of annoyance and hurt, and rolled his eyes.

"Shut up. Now you're being mean," he scolded me.

"What are you talking about?" I said. My mouth and eyes were competing to see which could be wider with shock.

He narrowed his eyes at me as if he was tired of playing games.

"I don't have a nice ass. It's too big and..."

He didn't bother finishing his sentence, but instead shook his head with annoyance. He genuinely didn't think he had a nice ass. Evidently, his previous boyfriends weren't ass fans. Then there was the fact he couldn't find pants because they all fit weird—too tight in the thighs and butt or too big in the waist—which was why he always wore athletic shorts or pants instead of jeans.

"Where do you shop?" I asked him.

"JC Penney."

Why does everyone shop there? I wondered if he was related to one of the AARP members.

"Well, that's your problem. Do you have plans or are we just going to sit in the truck?"

He shook his head and said.

"I don't have any plans, but I'd definitely love to hangout longer."

"Okay, drive to Rosedale."

He hesitantly looked at me. Rosedale was a moderately upscale shopping center with nicer shops than most other malls where you'd find your average shoplifting teenage girls or the droves of moms with Craigslist strollers.

"I need to check out a few stores anyway, so I'll show you where to buy proper pants. It'll be a win-win."

It was true, I did need to pre-shop for AARP.

*** *** ***

Shane was modeling the twelfth pair of pants as I struggled to contain my appreciation for proper fitting jeans. It didn't help that he kept pulling up his shirt up so he could check the fit around his waist, which gave me just enough skin to keep my imagination stoked while simultaneously inducing flashbacks from our one night together.

"I can't believe how good these feel, and they actually fit."

He was turning from side to side as he looked at himself in the mirror; adjusting his pants, squatting slightly, checking the waist, and totally oblivious to the drool I had to constantly mop up. He looked edible.

He went back into the dressing room to try on the last pair of pants.

"I told you I know my stuff. They're not going to be your thirty-nine dollars and ninety-nine cent jeans, though," I told him through the door.

"Yeah, I saw the tags. It's all good."

When he stepped out of the dressing room, I thought the floor might fall out from beneath me. I shouldn't have shown him proper fitting pants. I set myself up to fail.

He was wearing a pair of dark-blue denim with the right balance of crisp and distressed. They might have been a little tight, which I was incredibly thankful for because...yummy! I tried not to watch him as he did his usual 'I'm oblivious to how hot I look while trying on pants' strut around the dressing room.

"These feel tight. Are they too tight?" He asked hesitantly, as if it was a bad thing.

I shook my head as casually as possible while discretely keeping my massive boner hidden. Shane, wearing proper pants, was sinfully delicious.

"I feel like the pants make me look bigger."

Obso-fucking-lutely they did.

"Kind of, but not in a bad way. You were hiding in your pants before, but now you're showing off. So yes, your butt does look a little bigger, but in the best possible way. It's all very flattering."

I tried to keep my comment low key but he didn't look convinced as he walked back into the stall so he could put his regular clothes back on. He legitimately had no idea how hot he was. He wasn't being coy, he wasn't playing games—he genuinely didn't know. I decided to set the record straight.

I got up, knocked on the stall door.

"I have something else for you to try on," I lied, kinda.

He cracked the door open while hiding most of his body behind it. I could tell he'd already taken his pants off and was wearing only his underwear.

"More? I think these are enough," he frowned at the thought of trying on more clothes.

I pushed the door open and stepped into the large dressing room, then closed the door behind me. He looked confused but happy, as I gently pushed him to sit on the large, cushioned bench that stretched across one side of the stall. Then I straddled his lap.

"Oh." His voice was deep and breathy.

He put his hands on my hips and smiled at me as I settled on his lap. I loved seeing him surprised and aroused at the same time. Our lips met with an electric charge.

All I could think about was the night we were together, how good it'd felt to be impossibly close to him, and how much I'd wanted that again. I knew I couldn't have it, not in the dressing room. Our tongues fought the line between passion and lust as I ran my fingers through his thick locks and used them to pull him closer, if it were possible.

I moaned as I felt his hardness against me. It was a weird angle, and without thinking, I lifted my hips and reached into his boxers so I could move him to a better position. His breath hitched when I made contact with his sensitive organ and I smiled. I stroked him a few times before settling back down and grinding myself against him. This time I was able to feel him and slide properly against him (as proper as you can get with pants on).

"Stand up," I commanded.

He did while barely breaking contact with my lips as I ran my finger between his waistband and his skin. I slowly scooted them down a little further, revealing a little more each time. He was half exposed when I broke the kiss and went to my knees in front of him. I looked up froze when his hooded dark eyes were looking back at me. I pulled his underwear the rest of the way down until I exposed every inch of his perfect erection.

Every wall had a mirror. Everywhere I looked was a different view of Shane's ass. I'm sure Shane's view was just as appealing—a three hundred sixty degree view of Donovan sucking dick. I wanted to take my time and savor my first taste of Shane, but that wasn't going to happen because I wanted all of him, now. I didn't waste another thought before I took him into my mouth.

Shane was above average—almost eight inches and perfectly thick, just like everything else about him. I used both hands to grab his ass, pulling him closer until most of his length into my mouth. As I squeezed his ass between my fingers and bobbed my lips on his dick. My eyes rolled back when I felt his hands on my shoulders as his hips flexed back and forth. I loved the feeling of his ass muscles flexing beneath my hands and his hands clenching in an attempt to control his desire.

I looked up to find the happiest boy in the world. He was watching us in the mirrors and looked like a kid in a candy store. A very erotic candy store. I let go of him for a moment and took my shirt off as quickly as possible, considering all of the buttons it wasn't as quick as I wanted. Why do I always where so many buttons? I thought and vowed to change my ways.

If he liked shoulders, then he was going to get three hundred sixty degrees of Donovan's shoulders...all while giving him head.

Shirtless, I grabbed his ass and pulled him back into my mouth with one quick movement.

"Oh, shit," he tried to stifle his moan.

His fingers gripped my shoulders as he braced himself against the onslaught of my mouth, lips, and tongue against his cock. He started to move his hands across my shoulders and down by back. I knew he was watching me in the mirrors and it turned me on like never before.

There was a knock on the door and the store associate asked if Shane needed anything. I smiled around his shaft and sucked harder, which made him stumble with his words as he spoke to her.

"Yeah. Fine. It's perfect. Thanks."

Shane squeezed my shoulders and flexed his hips against my movement. I couldn't take it anymore so, without letting go of his cock, I pulled down my pants with one hand, while the other one was still firmly attached to his luscious ass, and started stroking myself.

"Fuck! That's hot," Shane moaned as he desperately kneaded my shoulders.

I felt the tightness in my stomach and toes as I climbed higher until I finally tipped. I jerked myself at lightning speed as I cried out in pleasure while Shane's cock was still sealed between my lips. He moved deeper into my throat as I shot my load with an intensity of a thousand fires. I barely had time to recover when I felt his cock expand and his grip tighten more as he'd leaned the majority of his weight on my shoulders in an attempt to stay up.

"Fuck, I'm cumming," he tried to whisper.

I felt him release into my mouth and I took everything he had before I released him from my lips, then I pulled his underwear back up. When he was out back together I pulled my own pants back to their original position as I stood.

With a mischievous smile painted across my lips, I casually said.

"So, I think you should definitely get the last pair of jeans."

Shane shoved me against the wall and his lips attacked me with a vengeance. I stood there stunned and before I had a chance to recover, to do anything about it, or reciprocate, he pulled an away.

"Sounds good. I was thinking of getting a few pair, but maybe you should pick since you have such strong opinions about it," he said, still panting from everything that just happened.

I bit my lip as he planted one last kiss. I picked out my five favorites—three denim and two khakis.

"I'm not a slut," I said as we got situated in his truck.

He looked at me and laughed.

"God, I hope that's not true."

The drive home was chill, at least compared to the three hundred sixty-degree blow-fest from earlier. The temptation to drag Shane into my house and ravage him was mostly gone since I'd been sated at the shopping center. When we got to my house, he walked me to the door and kissed me.

By kiss, I mean he had me pinned against the front door while we made out for a solid five minutes...it was heaven. After that, he kissed me once more. This time is was simple and sweet. Then he left, but not before we made plans to see each other again.