by Brock, V. L.
“Samantha,” I mutter. But she doesn’t cease the sweet torture that she has already commenced. Instead, she rewards me with her alluring, pervasive gaze that renders me immobile. Her intents and purposes are inescapable, patently clear in the darkening shades which her irises adopt as she unwaveringly regards me.
My abdominals take on a mind of their own, tensing incessantly as her tongue browses my body. She teases and swirls around my navel to the waist band of my shorts, before retracing up my stomach, dipping between each dell that divides the tautening muscle. When her teeth tweak my nipple once again, pleasure radiates and explodes in my body and I answer it with a guttural groan, and concurrently thrust my hips against her concealed sex.
Gliding my hand up and down her spine as she remains hovering over me, restraining me with the art of seduction, is like running my hand rhythmically over finest velvet––soft, welcoming and flawless. I shudder as her mouth withdraws from my chest, and welcome her teeth as they graze over my chin. I feel the warmth of her breath, the softness of her tongue across my stubble before she traces the tip of her tongue over my parted lips. I volunteer my tongue wanting her to accept my offering, to touch hers, to draw her into my mouth, but she playfully clamps her teeth down on me, shakes her head and hums from deep within her chest. Hearing and feeling her strangled, frustrated yet approving moan of satisfaction, is like an electric current being passed through me, it makes every muscle in my body tense and vibrate.
Settling my hands on her hips, she shifts again. This time, she hooks her thumbs under the band of my shorts.
“I want to taste you,” she murmurs. Her innocent, pure, crystal eyes scorching with carnal intention, her craving to alleviate the ache within her––within me, is undeniable.
With the urgency of her words and knowing of her intention, I feel my crotch tighten beyond anything I have ever felt before. I force myself to swallow then part my lips. Without a second question, or any nuance of hesitancy, I elevate my hips. Samantha slowly divests me of my boxer briefs, shifting her way down my legs as she peels them off my body.
She’s at my knees, watching me, gauging my next move. I sense her unspoken challenge and combat every cell, every raging hormone that upsurges through and around my body, like a racecourse. I remain still, and allow her to scrutinize me with licentious eyes. The heat and animalistic purpose she exudes as she inspects and appraises my body, feeds my desire and leaves the inferno dominating my core. A salacious grin kisses her lips when her steady appraisal halts at my heavy erection, lying purposefully along my abdomen, touching my navel.
“You are a mighty-fine sight, Mr. Wentworth,” she purrs seductively, then drops her head, to trail her tongue up my scrotum, and then along the underside of my shaft before fisting me in her grasp. I tip my head back against the headrest and ride out the wave as my entire body shudders, absorbing each sensation she inflames with her expertly executed circles and flicks of her tongue along my swelling tip.
Interest piques, and I find myself lifting my head up straight. I watch on, enthralled and exhilarated as Samantha licks her lips, forms the perfect O and pushes me into the warm depths of her mouth. My hips thrust upward automatically, my legs stiffen once I feel the suppleness of her tongue exploring up and down my length and around my base. I feel my cock strain as I watch her cheeks hollow as she sucks on me, tasting me, pulling me in with long, sensuous draws.
I sense myself building and tightening as Samantha ready’s me for my release.
“Samantha, stop.” I’m breathless, fighting the urge to explode in either her mouth, or over her breasts. I screw my eyes shut, pushing back the growing pressure of my seed, ready and wanting to be expelled.
With my hands on her upper arms, I heave her up from her position, and draw her close to my body, then seal my mouth over hers. Dipping my tongue inside I kiss her feverishly, vigorously and taste the salty-tang of my pre-come as I glide along her talented muscle. My hands are in her hair, at her neck, her breasts. I tweak her nipples between my thumb and forefinger, and her engorged clit brushes along the lace of her panties and the length of my cock as she writhes against me with parted lips. Greedy, peripatetic hands soon making their descent, and clench at her delectable, firm backside. Before I know it, I sink my thumbs into the material, effectively shredding them, and discard of them to the floor beside the bed.
As I slip my hand between us, my palm massages her clit while I slowly and gently push a finger into her depths. She thrusts against me, an indication of her yearning for further pleasure, and I feel the upsurge of her juices coating my finger, and my hand. I oblige, sinking my finger deeper within her steadily, in…out…in…out.
A sudden gasp ricochets around the room as I pull out of her and sink my finger into my mouth, tasting the velvet, sweet creaminess of her arousal. Her eyes are scorching, her pupils dilated as her hips gyrate above me. She quickly captures my finger and opens her mouth, before sucking any residual moisture. It never fails to boil my blood when I bear witness to her tasting herself.
Easing herself onto my cock, she devours me inch by glorious inch, stretching around me, holding my tight and warm. Wild groans and pleasurable whimpers spawn with the most intense form of bliss one could ever experience: making love to your woman, while she carries your child, especially after refraining from the act, from the sensations and intimacy it brings.
Samantha tips her head back as my right hand encircles her waist and my left skims down the surface of her throat.
“Samantha, you’re so tight.”
“And you’re so deep,” she breathes, dropping down onto me, swallowing me to the base of my manhood as together, we fill the emptiness that she has tolerated. She tenses her thighs as she rises, and relaxes as she lowers herself back onto me, consuming my length into her very depths. Together, we lose ourselves in the physical pleasure and heated, all-consuming gazes, as we work together, pushing each other onward and upward, commanding every nerve-ending that is overpowered with sensation and stimulation––directing each other as yearning and the need to climax spawns deep within our bodies, ruthlessly heating and sparking our synapses.
The sounds of my cock being steeped in her warm arousal fills the trivial space between our bodies as Samantha continues to lift and drop down onto my shaft, and I advance with a further pleasurable, double torture. Taking hold of her breast, I relish the warmth of her skin, the distension of her nipples pressing against the palm of my hand as it lies kneaded, full and heavily in my possession, while the sweet-tasting cocoa butter coating her flesh, affixes to my lips and tongue as I trail ardent kisses up the side of her neck, down and across her collarbone. I dip my tongue in the hollow of her throat, before repeating the process on the opposite side.
Lastly, I take her nipple in my mouth, licking, flicking and circling around the straining peak. As I gently suck on it, Samantha’s hands work their way into my hair and she holds me close amidst the demanding breaths, soft moans of pleasure and the sound of moist, bodily exhortations, which resonate around the golden lit room. Our melding shadows emanating on the surface of the wall. Her legs strain, the cadence increases rapidly and her body begins to quicken. I feel her walls cinch around my girth, making me pulse harder, and urgently seek my release.
“Oh, my God, yes, right there, Hayden.”
My cock skims along the swollen bead of nerve-endings as she thrusts herself along my pelvis bone. I feel myself building alongside her. She’s so warm, so plush and tight. I had forgotten what it was like to be inside her, skin on skin, steeped in her juices. Holding her tight, she comes apart in my arms and around me. Her sex constricting and rippling around me with every gyration of her hips as she convulses and rides out her orgasm.
I thrust into her from my position beneath her. I can’t stifle the feral groan that comes from my throat, as I clench my teeth, screw my eyes shut, and bury my face into the crook of her neck, softly whispering her name in an earnest plea as I find release.
Spent and sated, I cradle Samantha in my arms. Her head rises and dips along with my strenuous breaths as her ear rests against my chest. I kiss the top of her head, and soothingly stoke my fingertips up and down her spine once more; slipping across the salty sheen which coats our bodies.
“Wow. That was…intense,” she pants.
“Are you, okay? Rose, okay?” I ask diligent, my concern palpable.
She pulls her head away from my chest, her lips quirk into a rankled, galled grin. Lifting her hand, she pushes my hair back, freeing my brow of my single, errant lock of hair.
“Yes, Hayden, she is fine. I told you, she has her own private bouncy castle.”
Mirroring her affection, I reach out to her face and trace the seam of her lower lip with the pad of my thumb. She purses her lips and plants a kiss upon the tip.
“You look more…relaxed, Miss Kennedy.”
Her eyes are glowing and vibrant, her expression one of elated satisfaction. “Oh, Hayden…” she meets my lips with a lingering kiss then pulls away tentatively. She captures my face between her hands. “You have no idea,” she giggles and presses another hastened kiss to my mouth before lifting herself off me, nestling down on her side of the bed, and pulling the comforter up to her chin.
I turn off the bedside light, and the room sinks into darkness. Only shadows of the window blinds are cast upon the opposite wall as the white light from the moon’s glow infiltrates the room.
“Cuddle me?” she requests languorously, twisting onto her side to face the window.
“You never need to ask that, beautiful.” I snuggle down beside her and spoon her. My hand rests latent on our growing baby.
Inhaling her sweet scent, I silently assess the reason for her much relaxed, happier mien. It couldn’t be purely because she received a much needed release. We may not have had sex for a while, but we pleasured each other in other ways.
Her words replay in my mind with a haunting tune, I feel undesirable, Hayden. And I’m so scared feeling this way. Samantha’s reason for her former approach was because she needed to feel desired. Her negative feelings and perceptions of herself began to seep through the fine crevices of her newly attained judgement. Not having sex with her fueled the negativity, and…
I furrow my brow, my pulse quickens as I contemplate the dire measures she may have possible taken to regain the sense of desirability that she craved had I not conceded.
Pushing aside my unwelcomed thoughts, I remove my hand from her stomach, place a kiss on my fingertips and rest it again on her emergent bump.
“Goodnight, Rose,” I whisper. I kiss Samantha’s shoulder. “Goodnight, Samantha. I love you.” And I soon drift into an eventful, hectic dream, filled with medical personnel, white sterile rooms, and a beautiful baby girl with red hair gazing up at my with weary eyes, as I rock her rhythmically in my arms.
Flailing my arm to the side, I hit the button of the clock, effectively killing the alarm, before turning back to spoon Samantha.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
“Hmm,” she emits a dreamy moan. She always looks so peaceful, so placated when she’s asleep. Watching the diminutive twitches from her brow, the bridge of her nose or the side of her mouth––it’s amusing in an innocent, entrancing, riveting kind of way. Even when I attempt to stop watching, there is something that’s so persuasive which causes my scrutiny to linger; anticipating what she does next.
“Come on, sleeping beauty. It’s time to get up.” I kiss her shoulder, and she twists around to face me. Her eyelids flutter open under the softly, streaming light piercing its way through the window.
“Good morning,” she murmurs unfocused. The corners of her mouth quirking into a self-effacing grin, and I take every second to admire the soft, graceful movements of her profile. It is as though she is in slow-motion…even half asleep, she is mesmerizing. “It is too early to stare. Stop it,” she chides and buries her face into the pillow.
I capture her chin delicately between my fingers, encouraging her to release herself from the concealment.
“Don’t hide from me, Samantha.” The vibrancy emanated from her guileless, shy, aquamarine gaze is stunning, captivatingly beautiful. I feel the intensity of my stare––of my words, as I bore myself into this woman, my eyes raging with insistency, with adoration, with keenness.
Coiling myself around her, I push her into the mattress. I hover above her, my knee, parting her legs. She giggles and sets her hands upon my shoulder blades.
“Don’t ever hide from me,” I repeat my entreaty, then press my mouth to hers, uncaring that neither of us has yet brushed our teeth. Our tongues explore the familiar territory, which is each other’s mouth, consuming one another with wet, sensuous licks. Vehemence and ardor both drastically hit spiking point, peaking to full-bodied, exacting, unrelenting ferociousness. Incinerating everything in its path, until the only things outlasting, is smouldering carnality, and unadulterated desire.
God, what this woman does to me.
My cock lies hard and heavy between her dampened thighs. I thrust my hips into her, the velvet surface of my straining erection teasing at her exposed, smooth folds. She thrusts her hips up to meet mine, before digging her nails into the flesh of my back. The burning that is diffused from the deepening, crescent indentations impels me, spurs me, goading me to take her and ravage her until we are both spent and breathless.
“Hayden,” she mutters breathlessly against my lips. “My bladder is the same size as a bowling ball.”
My eyes alight with wry amusement at her depiction. I chortle and sigh, before dropping my head into the crook of her neck, fantastic timing. And begrudgingly free her of my towering body.
After five minutes of Samantha occupying the bathroom, I hear the faint sound of cascading water. Has she left me high and dry? No pun intended. I kick the comforter off, and take long strides to the en-suite. I lightly knock on the door, before pushing it open.
Standing naked in the doorway, I rest my shoulder against the doorframe, losing myself to the view that is Samantha under the torrent of the shower cubicle. The haze of the glass surround is already developing, offering an opaque view of her silhouette. Her back arched minutely, as she lifts her head in greeting to the steamy downpour.
Tease.
I meander into the room, my strides calculating, purposeful. With deft, silent hands, I open the gold trimmed, glass door, careful not to make a sound. I step inside and shut the door behind me. With her head inclined back, I take another step so my front is to her back. Snaking my right arm around her waist, she jolts, startled by my unexpected touch.
“Shush…” I soothe, and sweep her long, sodden tresses over her right shoulder. “Are you deliberately trying to escape me, Samantha?” I purr in her left ear. The falling water bounces off her surface, creating a light mist that blankets my body.
“Never,” she breathes. And my lips meet her shoulder and her neck. I kiss and graze my teeth along her flesh, teasing and heating before I cleanse the shimmering beads of moisture off her flesh with my tongue, drinking her in, in every possible way. “I was hoping for the, two birds, one stone scenario.”
“So, you want this?” I mutter darkly as I press my cock into the small of her back, ready and hard, just for her…only for her.
“Yes…always.”
She moves her arm behind her back, and the slightest contact of her thumb smoothing over the aperture of my tip, sends my head spinning and my muscles clenching, as my first spurt of pre-come is emitted over her.
“Rest both of your hands against the tile,” I command, and she obeys willingly. “Spread your legs.”
She complies without question.
Bending my legs, I sink down behind her. My hands encircle each of her slender ankles, and I begin to glide up their length at a painstakingly, tantalizingly, deliberate pace. I reach the summit of her thighs. I can already feel her body pulsating, squirming under my caress. With my hand sliding between her legs, I cup her sex with pos
sessive, overbearing force.
“Ah…” Samantha breaths, pushing herself onto my hand as my grip tightens.
Placing a chaste kiss on each of her buttocks, I rid her cunt of my possessive clutch and starting at the base of her back, lick up the length of her spine, capturing the droplets that trickle their way down her body. She tastes sweet and warm with the purity of the heated, stream.
“Are you sure you want this?” I line each of her shoulder blades and her neck with feather-light kisses, ensnaring her with the coiling of my right arm around her middle.
“Yes.”
With my left hand on her hip, I pull her back carefully, striving to maintain her hands position against the golden tile. I push her legs farther apart with my foot, before positioning myself at her entrance, and gradually sink into her tight, warm, steeped depths.
“Oh, God…” she cries, whilst her legs buckle under the extent of her fullness. She tips her head all the way back, and rests it against my chest.
I bury myself in her, driving into her with my soft, determined rhythm, while the heat from the flowing water of the shower cools my overheated, frenzied skin. My right hand drops over her baby-bump, and delves covetously to her sex. Skilful fingers avidly fondles her saturated folds, making work of issuing tiny, persisting circular motions over her swelling clitoris, while I maintain steady lunges.
“I can never get enough of you, Samantha,” I assert breathlessly, darkly, desperately, and she responds with a high-pitched, pleasure-enthused cry. I push her higher, the goal of her imminent release only a hairs breadth away.
I feel her body quake, her walls constricting and quivering inexorably around me. And it feels fucking amazing; knowing that I am the reason that her body responds this way, knowing her pleasure is at my hand. And the thought is an inducement to my climax, luring me unreservedly and hungrily to my body’s own, intrinsic crescendo.