Your fingers tremble just once before you reach for the hem of your shirt. Aaron’s eyes darken, his cock twitching as you drag the fabric up, slow at first, then faster, like you can’t stand the weight of it anymore. The shirt hits the floor, and his breath hitches. “There you go,” he murmurs, his voice rough, his gaze raking over you. “Knew you’d look good like this.” His fingers twitch at his sides, like he’s fighting the urge to grab you, but he doesn’t. Not yet. He lets you lead.
Your hands drop to your belt, the leather sliding free with a quiet hiss. Aaron’s lips part, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip as you pop the button of your jeans, the sound loud in the quiet. “Fuckin’ tease,” he growls, but there’s no impatience in it—just heat, just want. You drag the zipper down, inch by inch, his eyes tracking every movement. “Look at you,” he says, his voice dropping to a growl as you push the denim over your hips, letting it fall. “Already know what’s under there, but damn if it ain’t a sight every time.”
You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, and his breath catches. “Wait—” he starts, but you don’t. You shove them down, let them drop to the floor. His groan fills the trailer, deep and rough, as your cock springs free, already hard, already leaking. “Goddamn,” he mutters, his hand wrapping around himself, giving a slow stroke. “Thick as hell. And look at those balls.” His free hand reaches out, his knuckles brushing the underside of your cock, just a feather-light touch. “Heavy. Just how I like.”
You step out of the last of your clothes, standing there naked, exposed. Aaron’s hands finally give in, palming your ass, squeezing the flesh, his fingers tracing the dip of your spine. “Hair here,” he notes, his voice dropping to a growl as his fingers comb through the dark curls at the base of your cock, the trail leading down. “Not too much. Just enough.” His touch is possessive, his fingers tangling in it, tugging just enough to make you hiss. “Gonna be a mess when I’m done with you.”
Your hands drop to your belt, the leather sliding free with a quiet hiss. Aaron’s lips part, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip as you pop the button of your jeans, the sound loud in the quiet. “Fuckin’ tease,” he growls, but there’s no impatience in it—just heat, just want. You drag the zipper down, inch by inch, his eyes tracking every movement. “Look at you,” he says, his voice dropping to a growl as you push the denim over your hips, letting it fall. “Already know what’s under there, but damn if it ain’t a sight every time.”
You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, and his breath catches. “Wait—” he starts, but you don’t. You shove them down, let them drop to the floor. His groan fills the trailer, deep and rough, as your cock springs free, already hard, already leaking. “Goddamn,” he mutters, his hand wrapping around himself, giving a slow stroke. “Thick as hell. And look at those balls.” His free hand reaches out, his knuckles brushing the underside of your cock, just a feather-light touch. “Heavy. Just how I like.”
You step out of the last of your clothes, standing there naked, exposed. Aaron’s hands finally give in, palming your ass, squeezing the flesh, his fingers tracing the dip of your spine. “Hair here,” he notes, his voice dropping to a growl as his fingers comb through the dark curls at the base of your cock, the trail leading down. “Not too much. Just enough.” His touch is possessive, his fingers tangling in it, tugging just enough to make you hiss. “Gonna be a mess when I’m done with you.”