BOMAW 1-3 (58 page)

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Authors: Mercedes Keyes

BOOK: BOMAW 1-3
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Shawn wiped up the toilet and flushed and washed his hands afterwards. Leaning back, he stared out the door at her as she pulled the covers back on the bed, looking like a pink-wrapped chocolate candy treat that he definitely wanted some of. She kept her eyes away from him, bit into her lip, fighting down her grin of victory. Her mind clicking over the idea of a newly-built home, and then…the prospect of turning hers into a bed and breakfast; the thought had never entered her mind. But now that it had, it didn't take her fertile imagination long to see the wonderful possibilities of it.

"So…you gonna hear me out now?" Shawn asked, standing in the doorway, shucking his clothing down to his briefs.

"I'm listening." She opened the floor and glanced up at him fighting back a grin.

"You little…hellion!" he announced, springing across the room to pounce on her, tossing her to the bed as she squealed out laughing while he tickled her, she squealed even louder, turning and rolling with tears running from her eyes as he punished her, hitting all of her ticklish spots until she was laying on her stomach laughing and crying, begging for mercy. The little slinky top had ridden up and exposed her bottom, clad only in the matching pink bikini panties. Shawn shifted positions quickly and before she knew it, she was over his lap with her butt up and out, right where he wanted it.

"Shawn! What are you doing?" she cried out.

"Yeah! Got your lil' black ass right where I want it now, baby! Want me to kiss it, hmm?" he was threatening; his hand high over it, holding her there with his upper body and strong arm across her back.

"Shawn…don't…I'm sorry…I'm sorry!" she squealed out, laughing, but worried he would really hit her. Her butt was tender; one thing she didn't want was one of his big hands slapping her rump.

"Yeah! Talking all that stuff!
Go t'hell!
Kiss m'black ass!
Em hm!" The way he said it made Sylvia laugh even harder, even though he held her in a vulnerable position. "Yeah…who the man in charge now?"

"You, baby! You in charge!" she whimpered, trying to bite back laughter.

"That's right! Who the man here?" he asked.

"You da' man, baby! That be you!" she was quick to respond.

"That's right…and you da' woman! One with one…sweet…sweet black ass—yes
indeed!
" he finished, stroking over her bottom admiringly. "Definitely gonna kiss this later," he promised huskily, his hand massaging her smooth round cheeks. He took a really deep breath and shook a bit to snap himself out of it.

Sylvia was turned on as he finally turned her, sitting her on his lap, staring into her eyes. "You are
so
fuckin' sexy—do you know that? And your ass…is
perfect!
Emph!" he declared low and huskily, his eyes told her all she needed to know, coupled with the growing activity beneath her bottom. "Shawn…" she whimpered. "I wanna talk about this—building a new house and…this bed and breakfast idea—I hadn't thought of that."

"Let me get into this lil' pink number with you first." He flexed his brows.

Sylvia was grinning. "No, Shawn, we need to finish our little discussion
first
."

His legs were moving beneath her, opening and closing with slight up-thrusts of his hips, an erection was clearly making him uncomfortable. "Look…we can finish that afterwards—you see how you got me? You knew what you were doing, parading around in front of me with this on." he chastised her while his hand crept underneath the hem of it to slowly snake up her belly to one of her breasts, his fingertips encountered the nipple of, it was instantly sensitive to his touch and hardened up. He began kissing at the column of her neck, warm, soft pecks where he sucked in a bit of skin, letting his tongue touch along the way.

"Sha-awn! Nooo, I'm a bit sore there," she whispered, growing excited by his attention to her despite it.

"I'll go slow. I'll be careful…" he promised, still working on her.

"Nooo, I don't feel like it."

"Please?"

"Sha-awn!"

"Come on, Sylvie…I'll make it quick. Come on, give me a quickie," he pleaded. Sylvia giggled. She really was sore, and although he turned her on, she didn't feel like making love. With him it was never quick; they'd yet to make love—one time—that was less than forty-five minutes. Most of the time, it would be an hour before he finished with her. She regretted putting on the little number now, had only done it to tease him, because the original plan was to ignore him and make him suffer with her silence and seeing her in the sure-fire nightie. Now, here they were talking, laughing and he was turned on to the max.

"No, Shawn," she said, pushing up from his lap, he was trying to hold onto her. "Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait—come here. Aaah, come on, now…don't leave me like this," he begged.

"Shawn, you want sex too much!" she accused.

"Too much! How do you figure that? I only get it every now and then! It's not like I get it everyday!"

"And you ain't gone get it everyday, either!"

That stood him up from the bed. "Bullshit! If I want it everyday…what you put that on for then?"

"Because! I wasn't speaking to you then! You made me mad, so I put this on!"

"Yeah! That makes perfect sense!" he grumbled and pointed at her. "You look here, right now,
woman!
I'm a man with needs! And you…you turn me on! Look at that…" He pointed down at himself. "How am I suppose to sleep with that?"

Sylvia looked from his eyes down to his bulging briefs, the sight made her laugh.

"Oh, you think it's funny."

"I'm sorry, Shawn, but…it looks so…so funny—stickin' out like that. Put it away!"

"I want to—but you're not cooperating—now
are
you? And I'm telling you right now, I'm not going to be rationed! Holding out on the chocolates—"

Sylvia lost it, cracking up at the look on his face. "
Chocolates
?" She was shaking her head.

"Laugh all you want to! I need my chocolates! I will not be deprived! This is your fault! Putting that thing on!" he accused.

"Shawn…as if it would have mattered! Don't matter what I have on—you get—a hard on."

"Oh, so it's my fault you turn me on? My fault because I keep imagining you in all these…positions that we haven't tried yet."

"See! See—that's what I mean! You too old to still be after some nookie like that!"

"It's only your nookie that has me this way! Too old hell! A man is only as old as he feels; I'm good for at least fifteen more years. Now…come on, now…let me touch you up a little bit, I promise I'll be quick."

"You ain't touchin' nothin' tonight! We're talking!"

"That's not right! You suppose to take care of this!"

Sylvia couldn't help herself, she started laughing at him again because he was serious, begging for a piece. "Well let's finish our talk first, and maybe afterwards I'll feel like it."

Shawn whimpered, tromped to the bed, and threw himself back against the headboard. "Okay, come on, hurry up—let's talk about it!"

"Don't rush me!"

"Well, come on," he pleaded.

She was climbing onto the bed, and stopped to put her hand on her hip. "Do you want some or not?"

"That mean you gonna give up the chocolates if I do?"

"It depends! If you talking and rushing through our discussion just to get some—you ain't gettin' none! But if you take your time, show that you're really interested, and participate in the discussion as vigorously as you show such vigor and vim—for other things—then, I may give you some. A quickie."

"If I have to talk, I don't want no quickie!" He crossed his arms over his chest and sat back, sulking.

"Shawn! It's just a piece of nookie! Same thing gonna happen with it
this
time, as what happened the last time you had it. Think about that."

"I do…that's why I'm sitting here like this now!"

"Shawn, don't you ever get tired of it?"

"Not when it comes to you. With you…hell, I'm thinking about the next time the minute we're done with the present time!"

Sylvia sat in the middle of the bed and sighed, shaking her head at him, thinking,
Big-ass, grown-ass man sitting here sulking and begging for some tail!

"Well?" he asked.

"My goodness, Shawn, okay—but not until after we've talked!"

His bright white grin was back in place.

"So tell me, first…what about this new house?"

"I'll build you one. Simple as that. You get to design it—of course, I get some say in it, too—but, ummm, it's your home, you'll be running it. All I ask for, is three rooms that are mine out of it. My room for working out. My studio for work—I'd like a dark room for developing my own photos, and of course, where I paint. And then a man's room! I want my games—"

"What games?" she asked, curious; she didn't remember him playing any games.

"I got games. I have a PlayStation with loads of games. I haven't had time to unpack it, yet, but I have it."

"Where? I unpacked all of your stuff."

"It's in the basement. So…I want a man's playroom—pool table, bar, huge-ass TV for sports when I have my friends and brothers up. That's what I want."

"Baby, I have most of that now in the other house," she pointed out.

"I want it in our home—not that home! We should keep everything that's there for our guests. We'll modernize your three bathrooms up to four-star-hotel standard. We'll modernize the kitchen and close it up a bit, so you have it to prepare, at the very least, breakfast for your guests. You have the master bedroom on the main floor, with the two other smaller ones. Then the one in the basement. That's a good deal to work with. Your big living room and dining room is perfect, but you're going to want to decorate it more impressively."

He went on, and Sylvia was in imagination heaven. She was in complete agreement with everything he'd said so far. She loved nothing more than decorating and renovating, her mind was ticking over like crazy with all that she could do to really lay that house out to make it so there was a waiting list to stay there.

"You with me so far?" he asked.

"Definitely! I have to give it to you, babe…I love the idea!"

"Good…because you know all the wasted space behind the garage off your kitchen?"

"Yeah?"

"Well…I'm gonna build all of that in; that will be your office.
And
that's a really big garage! Right above
that
, we'll add another living area for a single couple. Make it really nice, so then you can book a family and a half, and a single couple. They'll have the living room and the dining room, because I'm going to shift that kitchen just enough for you to cook and set up a breakfast bar. Then we'll set up four nice-size tables for them to sit and have their breakfast. In the basement, they'll have the big screen TV. I'll run the bar down there for them; it already has a pool table, and we'll put in a card table, and a PlayStation set-up for the kids. This way, they can bring their favorite game and play."

Sylvia was so excited, she stood from the bed, pacing with the racing images of how nice she could make it. "Shawn! This is such an incredible idea! Do you know we'll be booked all the time! We're a forty-five minute drive from Wisconsin Dells! Every summer season, they are overbooked and people can't find a place to stay!"

"Thank you! That's what I'm talking about, sweetheart! We'll take that land around your house, and put a little tennis court in one area, a sandbox play area in the back with a jungle gym, swings—the whole nine yards…clear some of the trees away and put a pool in there!"

"Oh, my God, Shawn! Yes! That is going to be awesome! Oh, my goodness! I am going to lay that place
out!
In the winter, we got skiing!"

Shawn was smiling to see her so excited, as he nodded in agreement. "However, I'm telling you now, we're only going to book for so many weeks each season. For instance, summer: June, July and August only! We're closed September, October, November, December. We open January, February for skiing, and close back up to do whatever needs done for the summer again. And we need time for ourselves, and whatever trips to L.A. or elsewhere I may need to travel. When I go, you and the kids come as well…so let's get that clear right now, fair?"

Smiling, Sylvia sat back on the bed nodding. "Fair enough. I think that's a good idea. I'm so excited, I wanna start planning it right now! You think I should do a midday spread as well?"

"You can make out brochures and request tickets for guests who wish to have breakfast and lunch—even dinner, if you think you want to. Some will be happy with just breakfast, because they'll be away from the place most of the day and will probably have dinner out, but you never know."

"Oh, Shawn! It's gotta be the bomb, baby! I mean—perfection! Coordinated decor and flow, tranquil relaxing colors. Oh, and my fireplace! Can we make it a bit bigger?"

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