Chapter 153

• His body was a work of art, a fine, chiselled sculpture that belonged in a museum beside Michelangelo’s David. His muscles weren’t just for show, either. He worked in construction, building many of the homes in Liberty before he became mayor. I grew up watching him chop wood, cut down trees, and build things with his bare hands.
• And his body was as beautiful and perfect as it was back then.
• I ran my hands down his washboard abs, feeling the muscles tremble as I worked down toward his manhood. I’d felt him the night before, but this was the first time I got to see it. I couldn’t even wrap my hand around him fully. I stroked him, moving my hand up and down while meeting his gaze.