by S. E. Hall
“Sutton,” she gasps, squirming in place. “Hurry.”
“Ah, Sugar…” I pepper her breasts, throat, and mouth with kisses while working her pants open, “can’t think of too many things I wouldn’t do for you, but hurrying isn’t happening. Not this first time. Not after waiting so damn long to feel you again.” I guide her onto the bed, and her back, slipping off everything but the tiny patch of black lace tucked between those sweet thighs, then move up and over her, staring down at the only woman with power enough to make me stop and stare. “You’re beautiful, Presley.”
“Show me,” she whispers. “Show me that you mean it.”
Her lips are trembling when mine meet them, instantly parting for me. At first, I slowly sample her flavor as if brand new, and yet, setting forth a surge of memories… that left an unexplainable impact. And on its heels, another reminder flashes — I don’t want to lose her again — so I deepen the kiss, putting into it an urgency I pray she can taste. She seamlessly responds, her little noises growing frenzied, tongue wrestling wildly with mine, hands grasping at my head… legs parting for my touch.
“Wanna see,” I rumble more than laugh at her huff of frustration when I pull away from our kiss, rising to my knees. “Never thought I’d get this again, not about to miss a goddamn thing.” Inch-by-gradual-inch, I peel the panties down her legs, my inhale of appreciation whistling through gritted teeth. “Arms over your head.” I push her legs wide apart. “Nothing prettier in the whole world than you, splayed out for me.” Shifting to my stomach, I keep her thighs parted, I glide my tongue up one swollen, wet pussy lip, then back down the other. She bucks, body bowing, so I adjust — using a shoulder to keep one of her legs in place and my free hand on her stomach to pin her down. “I’m all out of hands,” I chuckle. “Know what that means?”
“No, what?” she wisps in fast reply.
“Need your hands. Spread this pussy open for me, Sugar. Want to taste every last inch of you.” Her low moan and quick hands are no surprise; she loves raunchy talk as much as I do. “That’s my girl. Just like that.”
Any man of the foolish disbelief that “all pussy pretty much tastes the same” is a disillusioned, unfortunate bastard who’s yet had the pleasure of tasting the one that doesn’t. Presley’s a unique, heady combination of sweet and spicy — like every damn thing about her — that I can’t get enough of.
And, I know I never will. Instinct, epiphany, whatever it is, I just know; struck by the fact the moment I met her. Almost like… actually, closer to exactly like a biological, chemical, animalistic and primal response. Meant to be beyond one’s control.
And yeah, I’m okay with my somewhat sappy, more so barbaric, musing, ‘cause my tongue’s coated in her… my manhood’s firmly intact.
Speaking of animalistic. “Don’t you move,” I growl the part, hand on her stomach seeking down, down, my finger drug deeper inside by her greedy muscles.
“Yesssssss,” she purrs, hips grinding.
I add another, finger-fucking her while I mouth-fuck her just as good, long licks, slow with sucks of her clit. Before I’ve had even close to enough — could eat her all night — the tell-tale clench, release, and again, around my fingers speeds up. She’s close, so I let my eyes drift from one beautiful sight to another, to see her face… as she comes on mine.
“S… Sutton…” Crazed licks, brutal suction, nips turned bites, a few more flicks of my tongue, and she goes off. Explodes. Thrashing, in convulsive waves, coming for me. “Holy, oh my, Sutton, that was,” she rambles in incoherent gasps, as she relaxes back into reality.
I slowly slither my way up her body, all the good parts rubbing against each other, push her arms over her head and weave our fingers together. Just like this… trapped beneath me, nipples poking my chest with every deep breath she takes, hands clamping my hold on them, lust-filled eyes wide and begging me… catching her few and far between, makes all the chasing more than worth it. She twines those long legs I love around me, mouth hot and impatient on my neck. “Sutton, I need it. Need you. Please.”
One of these days — even if it’s my last, having died trying — I will hear those same words while she’s clothed. Fucking watch me. But for now, I’ll take what she’ll give.
I scramble off the bed and to my jeans in double-time, and oh my fuck… I’ve barely turned when she’s right there, followed me… dropping again to suck my dick while my teeth annihilate the condom wrapper. “Eyes,” I snarl, too fucking amped up for niceties. Looking down at Presley, looking up at me, with my dick in her mouth. Yeah, not asking; demand it. “You love sucking that cock, don’tcha?” She nods, pupils dilating. “You don’t want fucked? Rather have it in your mouth than your pussy?” I ask in knowing that the dirtier I talk, the more primed she’ll be. “You sure, Sugar? So fucking good, but I’m really wanting a feel inside you.”
She pops off me, a feverish hand replacing her mouth. “I want you to fuck me.”
“Show me,” I grunt her earlier words back at her. “Get on that goddamn bed and show me how you want it.” I glove up blindly, eyes set on her… bending over the side of the bed. “From behind, huh? Whatever you want.” Another know — what she’d pick — not a bit upset that it’s her favorite, ‘cause I could watch her phat ass bounce for the rest of my life and never get sick of it. I close in, grab those hips and bend over her to growl in her ear, “tell me, Presley. Tell me the rest, that you didn’t before. ‘You lay in bed every night’ and what?”
She too stays in the know, no hesitation or need to ask what I mean… picking up right where she left off… the rest of her sentence that’s been plaguing me. Head turned, wanton gaze binding to mine, she confesses. “Think of you. Close my eyes and picture you. Scream your name when I get myself off, come hard, like it’s you touching me.”
Fuckkk, yes she just said that shit. I nudge her ankle and she spreads her legs further apart. “And since me?” I need to hear more.
Her eyes instinctually narrow — I’m pushing my luck, but if I’m ever gonna get her to admit it, now’s the time — so I grab my dick and tease at her dripping core to soften the blow. It works. “N… no one,” she purrs, pushing back against me.
Primitive propriety takes over, rumbling in my chest, and I drive inside her, feeding on her wail. “No one but who?”
“You! Oh my God, you, Sutton!”
With a forceful hand on her back, I prop that ass higher in the air, and fucking pound — months of starved frustration, and no explanation steering every ruthless thrust. She chants my name, taking it, loving it, anything but shying away from the savagery.
I can’t slow down, any faster impossible, lost to everything that isn’t Presley, hot, wet, and pulsing around my cock as she screams for more. “You gonna come for me?” I brace a hand on her ass, teasing the hole with my thumb, my other already between her legs, two fingers pleasing her clit. “Take me with you, Sugar. Come on my cock, long and hard. Want this tight-ass pussy squeezing it out of me.”
“Sutton, so good, you… you…” it’s an endless, moaned medley to my ears as she does it like only she can… and we crash over the edge together.
Chapter 13
Presley
I don’t know how many times, or lengths thereof, actually constitute an “a-thon,” but I feel pretty safe in officially declaring last night a “fuck-a-thon.”
Except the final round — slow and tender, with hints of daylight creeping in to cast romantic shadows — that didn’t feel like “fucking.” And now, in full light of day, my craving fed and mind cleared of blinding lust…
“Don’t you do it, Presley.” His sleepy grumble’s too sexy, arm around me, hauling me taut to his naked body, too tight.
“Don’t do what?”
“Backtrack. Think up dumb shit. Out of habit, avoidance, denial, any or all of the above, don’t.”
“I wasn’t,” I scoff, squirming, uselessly, against his hold.
“Liar,” he half-heartedly chuckles, flipp
ing me on top of him. “I let you lay there, waiting, giving you a chance to react the right way. You didn’t. Got inside your own damn head, whole body stiffened up the second whatever bullshit thought registered, so, I’m takin’ over… and you’re startin’ over. Good morning, gorgeous.” He leans up, planting a quick kiss on my lips. “You hungry?”
“No, but if you are, it’s fine. You know I don’t care if you wanna leave. Not one of those — whiny, expect ya to hang around — kind of girls. Matter of fact, I need to hop in the shower and get going myself, lots to do today.”
“Name one. Just one, of these pressing matters.” He smirks.
“Dog shopping,” I blurt out. Why? No clue… slip of the subconscious I suppose.
“Sounds like fun, I’m in.” He taps out a happy rhythm on my ass.
“I… uh… didn’t invite you?”
“No?” With his fast, yet gentle roll of us both, I’m flat on my back, a grinning, naked, too-damn-cute-not-to-win-this-battle Sutton hovering over me. “Invite me, Hot Shot,” he murmurs, expertly situating himself to align his most powerful tool of persuasion with the part of me that always gives into him first. “Do it, invite me, because you want to, or I’ll be forced to convince you that you want to.”
“Are you really willing to stoop to sexual coercion?”
“Oh, Presley,” he laughs. “Of all my tricks, that’s the one I’m most willing to use. If I have to employ tactical maneuvers, which I find myself doing a lot lately, then yes… getting laid in the process is definitely my first pick.”
“Makes sense.” I shrug in defeat… can’t argue with that. “If I do invite you, promise that you won’t read-”
“If you finish that tired-ass sentence of yours, I’m picking out the dog. Then, I’m gonna read too much… to him! Actual books, for hours, read, read, read. The classics — the long ones.”
I’m prepping my comeback — so far, I’ve got nothing — when my phone starts blaring, the beat of “Can’t Squad With Us” rattling it around on the nightstand. Saved by the bell, or ringtone, assigned to my favorite jackass… who I’m still furious with for his treachery and disappearing act. “It’s JT, will you grab it?” I ask Sutton.
“With pleasure.” He snatches it up, excited to give JT shit, talk of reading to a dog forgotten. “Mornin’, Cupcake. You’re up awful early for a weekend,” he greets, on speaker phone. “Lemme guess, you’re up because you have a hair appointment? Gettin’ your nails done, too?”
“Well, well, what do we have here? Guess this answers my question if P’s still pissed at me for the set-up last night.”
“Yes, she is!” I yell.
“I can tell,” J snorts. “Sleepovers don’t usually suggest opposition there, Princess Pants. Oh, and Sutton, before I forget, fuck off with your hair appointment shit. Now then, it’s actually cool I caught you guys, together. Y’all up for some paintball with me and Bellamy?”
“Stand by, need to sidebar with the boss. We were just talking about other plans.” Sutton winks at me, letting his enjoyment of this whole situation show — JT aware he stayed over, and that we were busy discussing plans, which suggests a level of… intimacy I never partake in — a prideful, sincerely happy shine to every nuance of his face. “Which would you rather do?” He asks.
“Phone’s still on speaker.” I roll my eyes. “Not much of a sidebar, those are held in private. And now, we can’t sit here weighing the pros and cons of doing something with people who can hear us, so, I guess we’re going to play paintball.”
“You heard the lady! Where at, Shot Safari? Meet ya there? What time?” He gushes to JT. Wonder which he was hoping I’d pick… I just can’t tell.
“If I’m going, I’m going showered and dressed, so let me up.” He does, without the argument of physical restraint this time, wearing his biggest grin of the morning. They continue sorting out the details while I grab some clean clothes and head to the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
But… I didn’t think to lock it.
I’m rinsing the shampoo from my hair, head tipped back and eyes closed, when this small detail comes to my attention. Blindly, I know the instant he walks in… closer… and joins me.
“Don’t think you’re gonna hog all the room under the spray, Big Boy. Shoulda waited ‘til I was done, there’s way too much of you to wash for this to work with two people.”
He doesn’t respond, verbally anyway, capitalizing on my compromised position to kiss a tantalizing trail along my neck and grope his fill of my slick, sudsy boobs. He pulls my hand from my hair, guiding it to rest on his shoulder, then moves. Where, how, exactly, I’m not sure — eyes still closed against possible soap invasion — but the loss of his body heat, tells me he’s up to something. Or down.
“Hold onto me, don’t want ya to slip,” he warns in a scandalous tone, hoisting my leg up and over his other shoulder, his hands stabilizing me when I jolt with the first touch.
“Sutton, we do… ah,” I moan my lost protest, melting into his mouth… on me.
“We have time,” his growl delivers delicious vibrations, and I hurry through a few more jostles of my damn hair — completely rinsed or not, I give no fucks — now the very last of my priorities. A leftover sud or two isn’t gonna take my hand, concentration and vision away from me when I need them most.
“You sore, Sugar?” He asks as tenderly as he eases a finger inside me.
“Not too,” I moan louder, longer, and now that I’m shampoo-free… look down, the erotic sight of his tongue lapping at my pussy so lewd, so intoxicating, I coat his finger with a warm gush of want.
Cued by it, he licks faster, a fraction rougher, what’s now two fingers taking no time to seek out the sweet spot inside me and rub in perfectly pressured circles. My hips gyrate around, down, forward, seeking… and he answers, countering every movement with exact precision of what I want, where, when, even more masterfully than last night. He obviously took notes… well.
“Sutton, close, oh, Sutton.”
“I know, Sugar, feel ya. Give it to me. Come, now.” With just a tweak of slight soreness, my muscles swell, contract, then explode in a riot of staccato waves, Sutton absorbing them all to the very last twitch. “Love that so much.” He stands, making a show of licking his lips, shooting me another coy wink. “Want me to do the other on your hair for ya?”
“Conditioner?”
“Yeah, that. You’re lookin’ a little worn out, like you could use some help.”
I swat his chest, a few splatters of water hitting my face. “I got it. If you’ll get, and stay, outta my way.”
“You loved it, you bull-headed brat.”
“Never said I didn’t.” I turn my back to him and step to the side, squeezing conditioner into my palm. “I don’t need water while I work this in, so get your big self under there and do your thing. I’ve got asses to kick at paintball, and a mutt to rescue.”
****
“Look! That’s a damn hematoma!” I’ve yanked up my legging to show him the worst of my battle wounds, a huge purple welt, on the back of my leg. “Don’t think I didn’t see who was on the trigger end of this shot!”
“I told you to wear two layers of clothes. And in my defense, I was aiming for your ass, where you have the most cushion. I’m sorry, Babe. I’ll be more than happy to kiss it, nurse you back to health, all night, and about the ‘cushion,’ I just m-”
“I know what you meant, and took it as a compliment,” my glower’s playful. “I love my big ol’ booty, and I’m well aware that you do too. By the way, now I’m hungry. Taking you boys down in mortal combat wasn’t hard work, but I worked up an appetite anyway. You gonna make good on the offer to feed me, Ellis?”
“Anything you want, name the place. Think we have time before the pound closes?”
“We could drive-thru, eat it on the way?” I can’t believe how easily that just popped out — I’m actually serious about the dog thing. Who’d a thought?
“If we’re gonna
be eating, and hauling a dog, we may wanna swing by my place and switch to my truck.”
I… should’ve thought of that. “Yep,” I clip, diverting my gaze, while he laughs… but doesn’t point out my blunder.
“Sounds like a plan. Tell me where I’m stopping for food.” He readily agrees — he usually does — so complex, yet so easy-going.
But in the spirit of all these “new” things I’m trying out, I flip the script. “You pick.”
“I pick what?”
“Where to get something to eat,” I snicker at the confusion in his tone and expression.
A twinkle in his eyes and grin slowly grow. “That’s it, new rule. I’m going down on you. Every. Damn. Morning.”
A wild peal of laughter bursts out of me. “What?”
“You heard me, lil’ lady. You’ve been… happy, all day. And now, not only are you looking to spend more time with me, you’re letting me make choices? Oh yeah, startin’ every morning with my mouth on you if this is the result. Not that I wouldn’t gladly do so anyway, but bonuses are… well, bonuses.”
I refuse to spoil this amazing day by lending my voice to the negative ones swirling in the back of my mind, so I put them on mute, smile, and dodge. “The longer you stand there jackin’ your jaw, the longer one lucky dog spends at the pound. Get a move on, Big Boy.”
Chapter 14
Presley
By the time we went to Sutton’s and switched from the Harley to his truck, drove through and waited way too long for fast food, then finally made it to the pound… it was closed for the day. Which I admit, left me a bit salty.
Picking up on that fact, and having to work tonight anyway, Sutton left — and I sat around — bored, alone, and pissy, until JT called. Nothing better to do, and the only one who truly knows what a terrible idea this is — so I’ll be hyper aware of our surroundings my focus on keeping everyone safe — I’m on my way to…