Not a damn thing! Last night wasn’t about that. It was about having a good time, taking time to forget about the real world for a while and letting loose. He just happened to let loose a little too much.
Rolling onto his back he shielded his eyes with his arm as he tried to remember the events of last night. They enjoyed Lidia’s delicious dinner, played cards and told stories. Tico and David had left early and that’s where things got a little fuzzy. He played the new song he had been working since he found Ari....
Oh shit! Ari. Did I call her or was it a dream? I vaguely remember a pool table...panties...pussy.
Rolling onto his side, he reached for his phone on the nightstand and pushed the button. Adjusting his eyes to its brightness in the darkened room, he found it read 4:30 p.m.
Fuck. He slept all day.
Scrolling through his notifications he noticed a few from Richie and his mom, but nothing from Ari. Maybe it was all just a dream. He tossed the covers off of him and swung his feet over the side of the bed. He reached and twisted off the cap of a water bottle, emptying its contents with just a few gulps.
Bare feet dragging against the plush carpeting, he walked to the bathroom. One hand ran through his hair while the other scratched his belly just above his morning – well, in this case, late afternoon – erection. He opened the shower door and turned the dial to the hottest setting before going to take a leak.
Jon took his usual stance in front of the bowl and looked at the fixture on the ceiling and scrunched his lips from side to side. Nothing. Next, he tried bending his knees and adding a little bounce. Nada. Puffing out a breath he looked down.
“C’mon Captain ya fuckin’ killin’ me here.”
Finally! Pissing with a hard-on was tough enough, and added to the fact he had a bladder full of Jack, well it took for-ev-er. One final shake and a flush and he was on his merry way to a steamed filled shower.
A steady stream of hot pulsating water pelted his neck as he stood with his hands pressed against the tiles and his head down. Maybe hot was not such a good idea he thought, as he stared down at his dick again. He was going to have to take care of that. It wouldn’t be the first and certainly not the last time he’d partake in a little five-knuckle-shuffle. Not unless of course he could convince Ari to throw caution to the wind and come with him when he hit the road. His dick twitched at the mere thought of having her in his bed every night.
Jon leveraged himself against the wall on his forearm, while his right hand curled around his shaft. Closing his eyes he scanned his spank-bank reel – that’s right he had one, every red blooded man had one – until he came up with the image of Ariana lying on the beach in Italy, her skin glistening from a mixture of sweat and oil.
His hand began to stroke. Up... down... slowly.
The thin white stripe of her thong against her perfectly plump ass made her already olive skin darker.
His grip tightened.
Her chocolate colored locks cascaded across her shoulders and down her bare back. It took some convincing, but he finally got her to go topless. It was a private beach and they had it all to themselves. No one knew they were even there. It was during the Destination Tour and they had snuck away for a few days.
Jon rolled his shoulders back causing the water to hit the back of his neck then trickle down his chest.
He growled as the piping hot water washed over his sensitive nipples. The vein in his neck beat in time with the muscle he held in his hand.
She laid on the lounger belly down and he watched as she tapped one then the other foot against her ass, each time giving him a bird’s eye view of her pretty pink lips.
“Awww fuck.” Jon’s pace quickened. He was almost there. Squeezing his eyes tight he held the next image of her in his mind.
Ariana slowly turned over and propped herself up on her elbows, her legs slightly parted, her nipples taut from rubbing against her towel. She dragged her sunglass down her nose and looked over at him. The wanton look in her eyes had him crawling between her legs and taking her right there.
“Oh. God. Ari.” He groaned her named as his juice spilled from him.
♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱
The doorbell rang loudly, disturbing Jon from his post orgasmic stupor. Quickly he stepped into his sweats leaving them to hang low on his hips as he reached for his ratty old Giants shirt.
“Jeez. Alright already! Give me a fuckin’ minute,” he yelled as he made his way down the stairs. Wondering who the fuck could have gotten through the gate, he stumbled into the foyer and yanked open the door just as he pulled his shirt over his head.
“Whaddya waaannnt.” He stopped himself when he realized it was the FedEx girl.
The sight of Jon’s half naked chest startled her. She had been working this route for months, even had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Rockstar, but never once had he come to the door half clothed. “Umm. Good evening, Mr. Bongiovi.” She stuttered as she gave Jon the once over. “I. You have a delivery.” She handed Jon the small square box.
“Who let you in?” Jon shoved his arm through the hole and pulled the shirt down and accepted the box. Glancing at the label, he could see it was address to, Mr. Bongiovi and the return address was Petit Soho. What would Ari be sending him?
“It was open, so I came on down. I hope that was okay.” She held out the electronic signature pad and waited for him to sign.
“Yeah. Yeah. Is there anything else?” Jon scribbled his name.
“Nope. You have a wonderful evening. Again, I apologize for disturbing you.” She smiled.
“Goodnight.” Jon slammed the door shut. Usually her flirtatious ways wouldn’t bother him, but not tonight. He had been about to call Ari and see if she was willing to engage in a little phone sex, but her annoying bell ringing changed that.
Making his way to the kitchen, Jon pulled a knife from the drawer and ran it along the packing tape, setting the box on the island. He opened the lid and the smell of candied apples filled the air. He peeled back the red and white heart tissue paper.
Sitting on the top of the box was a bottle of her lotion and next to it was a half pint bottle of Jack. Placing the items on the counter, Jon reached for the next item. Upon pulling it out he shook his head and laughed. It was all coming back to him now. He had called her, well drunk dialed. Babbling on about how his Jack didn’t taste quite the same coming from a glass as it from her navel and how every time he took a sip he could smell her.
Unfolding the satin lace boy shorts Jon found a note wrapped around the crotch....
Scratch-n-Sniff
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