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Deep In The Heart of Texas - The Other Side

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Bubba wakes up after he doesn’t know how long, his nap filled with sweet, airy dreams that he can’t quite remember… he can only remember feeling safe and relaxed. He yawns and hugs you a bit more tightly, and your warm, naked body on top of his has him wide awake within seconds. He makes soft little squeals and trails his hands down your back to your butt, and when he gives your cheeks a gentle squeeze he feels you smile against his chest. He tilts his head down to see you gazing up at him with a gentle smile on your face, and those soft, fuzzy feelings warming his heart increase exponentially.

“Hello again. Did you have a nice nap?” you ask, and he grins and nods. Then your smile turns a bit more mischievous. “Would you like to try doing to me what I just did to you, baby? Using your mouth?”

Just when Bubba thinks you’ve shown him everything there is to know about feeling good, you come up with another idea - and this is the best one you’ve had so far, in his opinion. He’s already become addicted to your taste when he licks it from his fingers, and now he gets to lap it up straight from the source and he can hardly wait. Unable to contain his excitement, he rolls over till you’re flat on your back before grabbing your legs and pulling you down till they’re hanging off the edge of the bed. It seemed to work well when you had him in this position, so he figures it’s a good place to start. You weigh nothing at all and he suddenly worries that perhaps he was too rough, but you laugh as you prop yourself up on your elbows so he assumes it’s okay. Bubba drops to his knees in front of you and spreads your legs further apart just like you did to him, but then he stops and just stares at this part of you that he’s gotten to touch but never see.

He’s never looked this closely at what’s between women’s legs: your flaps of skin look like the petals of some kind of exotic flower and it’s a little bit strange-looking, but it’s beautiful too and a powerful rush of arousal punches him right in the gut - and lower. He doesn’t understand why Drayton wouldn’t want him to look at something so pretty. How can it be bad? Why would it make him a pervert to appreciate this nice body part just as much as a nice face? But then again, Bubba doesn’t understand why Drayton says or does so many things. Like why he doesn’t want Bubba to touch himself when his dick gets hard, when touching it feels so good. Why would feeling good be a bad thing? Bubba’s glad that you don’t think touching there is bad, but he’s not sure how to touch you right now so he finally tears his gaze away from the tantalizing and bewildering sight of your most private parts and looks up at your face, hoping for guidance.

“Just kiss me like you do to my mouth first, honey,” you instruct, and he nods and immediately dives in. He tries to be gentle even though his excitement is off the charts, the aroma of your sex setting his nerves on fire and hot blood throbbing between his own legs. He wants to devour every inch of you all at once, but he remembers what you’ve told him about needing to start slowly. The first touch of his lips draws a breathy gasp from your throat, and it makes his already-pounding heart skip a beat. “That’s good,” you praise him so he keeps going, hoping you’ll say more nice things.

“Gentle, be gentle,” he repeats over and over in his mind as he gives you soft little kisses, pressing in closer to reach better, but then you reach down and gently lift his chin up and away and he’s suddenly worried. Is he doing it wrong?

“Bubba, you don’t have to if you don’t feel comfortable with it, but this might go a little bit easier if you take off your mask.” you say, and he’s instantly horrified to the point where he can actually feel his hard-on start to falter. He pulls away from you and squawks anxiously, fidgeting in distress and hoping that you don’t really mean it. It was already so hard to show you his body, but eventually he gave in because there’s nothing he can do about the way his body looks and he wanted to learn what it feels like to hold you with no clothes on. But he can do something about his face. He can make himself handsome for you with that other man’s skin - and more importantly, if you see his real face you might see just how stupid he really is, how empty and afraid and not handsome at all. It’s too much, it’s too vulnerable, and if you make him do it he doesn’t think he could cope.

“Ssshhh, it’s okay Bubba, you don’t have to!” you say quickly, “It will feel good for me either way, I promise. I just want you to know that if you ever feel okay about it, I would love to see your face. Your whole body is so handsome to me, and I know that I’ll love that part of you, too.”

He moans in agony and taps his fingertips against your thighs. He told himself he would obey you no matter what, but this request is intolerable and the suffocating fear of exposing his face to you is pressing in on him as though he were being buried alive.  “Sshhh, I’m sorry honey, I didn’t mean to upset you. You can keep it on for as long as you want to, I’m so sorry if I made you feel bad.” you say soothingly, and your apology makes his fingers go still and his moaning taper off into quiet little whimpers before stopping completely. You sound sincere like you always do, and when he sees your earnest and caring expression it helps him relax. He still doesn’t know what to do, though. Your understanding and kindness is such a relief… but you said it would be better if he took off his mask and how can he deny you his very best effort when you’ve been so nice to him? When you’ve made him feel more amazing than he ever knew was possible, both his body and heart? How can he be the best boy for you that he can without suffering the soul-crushing terror of letting you see what’s hidden so deep inside him? The dilemma is hurting his brain as he thinks, weighing his fear of exposure against his desire to please. Finally the solution comes: he will take off his mask to do a better job of pleasing you, but he desperately hopes that you’ll keep your eyes closed.

“Are you sure, baby?” you ask when meets your eyes again and nods, and that sweet name reassures him that you’ll keep treating him nicely. He nods again, then reaches up to place his hand over your eyes, hoping you’ll understand. Thankfully, you do. “You want me to keep my eyes closed?”

“Yes please, please don’t look, it’s too scary. I’ll be a good boy and I’ll make you feel good, I’ll do anything you want, I want to be a good boy, but please don’t look it’s so scary,” he pleads, and like the benevolent angel you are, you smile down at him and agree.

“Alright, honeybear, I promise I will. I’ll keep my eyes closed and you let me know when I can open them again. Just tap me on the shoulder twice when you’re ready, okay?”  Relief washes through him as you gently pat his hands where they’re resting on your thighs, then you close your eyes.

He quickly removes his mask and sets it aside - now that you’ve promised not to look, his excitement has returned full-force and he takes hold of your legs once again and leans in to kiss you like before, breathing in your scent and savoring the feel of your velvet-soft folds against his lips.

“Bubba, that feels so nice… is it okay if I touch your hair?” you say after a moment, and it only takes him a split-second to make this decision: he’ll do anything you want him to do that doesn’t require you seeing his face so he nods, rubbing his nose through the hair on your mound. “Yes, yes, that’s okay, you can touch my hair, please,” he agrees, and then grunts in pleasure when your fingers sink into his somewhat-flattened waves. Very rarely is his real hair uncovered, and he’s never been touched this way before and it feels better than he expected… much, much better. He grunts again and grips your thighs more tightly as you gently massage his scalp and lightly ruffle his hair, and he rubs his nose against your mound again and inhales deeply, soaking up that delicious scent. He keeps kissing you, hoping that it feels good and that you like it, then after a moment you suggest:

“You can go faster and less gentle, and you can use your tongue if you want. That will feel really good for me.”

He squeals excitedly, eager to get a better taste and increase your pleasure at the same time. He starts to push your legs further apart to get better access, but you quickly say, “Bubba, that’s as far as my legs will go, try putting them over your shoulders.”

“Yes, okay, yes, yes,” he mumbles against your skin, then does as you say. He likes how your calves feel resting against his back and the way your thighs on either side of his head quiver a bit as he licks a long stripe along your slit from bottom to top, remembering what you did to him and trying his best to replicate it despite how different your anatomy is. You taste so good and he wiggles his tongue in deeper, searching for the opening he knows is there and hoping for more delicious wetness. He catches a bit on the tip of his tongue, and he grabs you more firmly and pulls you even closer till your butt’s dangling off the edge of the sofa-bed. He just can’t help it, he needs more. You squeak in surprise but he doesn’t hear it over his noisy squeals and grunts, plus your thighs are squeezing slightly against his ears and he loves it. He wants to be completely engulfed by you, to be surrounded by and covered with your body till you’re all he can feel, taste, see and smell. He wants to get lost in you, but the best he can do is shove his face as close against your crotch as possible and stick his tongue as deep into your slippery lower mouth as he can.

“Jesus, Bubba, oh my God!” you cry out, and it sounds like you like what he’s doing so he goes even harder, trying to get deeper and wetter as his works himself up into a frenzy of lust. “God, that’s so good, baby, you’re doing amazing,” you gasp, and he grunts and squeals in reply, licking and drooling and stabbing his tongue everywhere he can reach. His face is already covered in your slickness and his own spit but he wants even more. If he could swallow you down the way you did to him he would, but he can’t so instead he slobbers his way back up to focus on that little nub that you’ve told him is the center of your pleasure. “Jesus, Bubba, fuck!” you cry out again when he finds it, and you clutch his hair harder and twist it a bit, making him groan in ecstasy. It feels so good, and the words that you’re saying and the way that you’re saying them make it even better. 

“Use your fingers… now, too, baby, please… j-just like u-… usual.” you beg and he instantly obeys, sliding one finger slowly into your sopping hole like you’ve taught him while circling and flicking his tongue rapidly over your clit the way you’ve shown him how to do with his fingers, hoping you’ll like it. It seems like you do from the noises you’re making, so then he tries sucking on your clit the way you sucked on his dick, hoping you’ll like that, too… but to his dismay you yelp sharply and he quickly backs off, whining apologetically and feeling terrible that maybe he was too rough, that maybe he hurt you.

“That was so good, Bubba, do it again, please,” you gasp before he can start begging for your forgiveness, and when you pull his head back towards your crotch by his hair it makes his dick even harder. You want him badly enough to be a little bit rough yourself, and the thought that maybe you want him as much as he wants you is so exciting and makes his whole body vibrate with joy. He squeals loudly to let you know that he’ll do anything, anything that you want him to do for you down here and he sucks on that sensitive little part again, relishing your high-pitched whimpers and moans. He slips a second finger inside your dripping slit and scrapes his teeth ever-so-gently against you, trying to use the same pressure you used with your own teeth on his most sensitive parts not long ago. Your breathy whimpers get louder, and he feels your body get more and more tense and he works harder still, pumping and curling his fingers inside you and gasping for air in fast, short little bursts to keep his mouth on you as consistently as possible. At last he feels your climax begin and he licks at your clit as fast as he can, swirling his tongue over and around it as you cry out his name and buck against his face, squeezing your thighs tightly around his head. It doesn’t hurt him - actually he wishes you would grind even closer and squeeze even harder, and his own hips thrust forward all on their own, searching fruitlessly for some sort of contact, for some sort of friction to help relieve the throbbing ache in his groin. Your hot inner walls are fluttering and clenching around his fingers, and it reminds him of the way your throat squeezed around his cock and he squeals at the memory, his erection twitching and bobbing in midair as precum oozes from its tip. He’s so ready to come himself, his balls drawn tight and feeling like they’re about to burst, and he squeals against your sex in excitement and frustration all at once.

“Stop, Bubba, please, I can’t take anymore,” you moan, so he reluctantly stops licking and moves his head away. He knows that he can’t stand being touched too much right after coming, and the same appears to be true for you as well. He gently removes his fingers and slides your legs off of his shoulders, then sits your butt properly back on the mattress again. You’re panting hard but your eyes are still closed, and with a swell of relief Bubba quickly wipes off at least some of the copious wetness on his face with the corner of the sheet and replaces his handsome man mask. You open your eyes when he sits beside you and taps you twice on your shoulder the way you instructed, and he can’t help but lick his teeth over and over, making sure he’s found every last bit of your juices still left on his face. He watches and waits with bated breath for your appraisal of his performance, hoping he did a good job, hoping with every fiber of his being that you liked it and that he was a good boy for you… and to his utter delight you give him a smile take his hand in yours. “Oh my Lord, Bubba, you’re amazing. That was absolutely incredible, you did such a great job, honey! You made me feel so good, baby, thank you.”  He squeals happily and you smile and lean in to give him a kiss, stroking his cheek and he’s so proud that he can barely stand it. You said he’s amazing. That he did an incredible job. No one has ever told him those things no matter what he does or how hard he tries… until you.

He squirms in place a little bit while he waits for you to recover, hoping that maybe you’ll touch him again once you’ve come fully back to your senses. Despite his two recent orgasms he’s so hard again that it almost hurts, and when you break the kiss and look down at his lap he squirms even more desperately, hoping you can tell how needy he is for your touch. “Let me help you with that, honeybear,” you coo, and Bubba thanks his lucky stars when you bring your hand between your own legs to collect some of your cum and his spit. With only a few wet strokes he’s bellowing and twitching in your grip, lights bursting behind his tightly-closed eyelids like the gunpowder Nubbins would mess around with sometimes. How did he make it this far in life without experiencing this bliss?

He reaches for you and pulls you close as he lays down to recover, both of your legs still hanging over the side of the sofa-bed. “Now I need a nap,” you giggle tiredly once his panting has slowed, and he giggles as well. You stay snuggled up together for quite awhile, but it’s not long enough for his liking. Even so, Bubba can tell by the rumbling in his stomach and the sunlight outside that it’s time for lunch.

“We need to eat lunch now, and Grandpa needs lunch and he needs to go pee and shit and I need to give him some kisses. And Grandma needs kisses, too. And you need to eat, and I need to eat, and I think we have beans and I’ll make you a sandwich because I love you.” he says as he sits up, and together you head back to the bathroom to retrieve your clothes, still laying in a heap on the floor.

He can’t stop staring as you take a damp washcloth and wipe it between your legs. You’re still so wet down there, so he supposes it makes sense that you would want to clean up a bit. He blushes in embarrassment when he sees that you’ve noticed him staring, but you just chuckle, “I don’t think there’s any reason to be shy anymore, hon, you’ve seen pretty much all of me there is to see at this point.”  You wink at him and he grins, deciding that he likes being called “hon” along with all those other nice names. Bubba would be happy to keep the scent of you on his fingers for the rest of the day - or forever - but when you wash your hands he supposes he should do so as well. Besides, if he has his way he’ll have his fingers - and hopefully his tongue - inside of you again later today. But for now, it’s time for lunch.