by Allie Gail
And man oh man, he isn’t the only one.
His breath is warm on my wet skin as his tongue strums my exposed clit, lightly, delicately, teasing it just enough to send me to the edge before backing off. He really knows what he’s doing. I don’t know how he knows just when to retreat. Maybe he’s going by the sounds I’m making, all the whimpers and moans and oh-fuck-yes-don’t stop’s, but whatever the case, he does it impeccably and it’s driving me crazy.
Making me manic.
Lust-manic. Is that even a word? If it isn’t, then it should be. It’s the most accurate description of the state I’m in right now. Outdoors in the open like this – even if technically we’re secluded by the confines of a privacy fence – it all feels so hedonistic, so deliciously dirty, that the impropriety only adds fuel to a fire that’s already out of control.
I spread my legs wider and tangle my fingers in his hair, drawing him closer. I want to grind my pussy into his face and scream nasty things at the top of my lungs. Scream them so loud the neighbors call the police to report a possible murder. I want to lose control, forget constraint and false modesty and let him fuck me like an animal, just throw me down and bang me into next month.
I guess I’ve wanted that all along.
He sucks the swollen bud into his mouth and flicks it with his tongue, and instantly I come undone. With no warning. Bang – just like that. This has got to be an all-time record for fastest orgasm ever achieved, including those supplied by my battery-operated boyfriend. The pink one with the vibrating bunny ears. The one that makes my toes curl and my eyes roll back in my head.
Forget Bunny Ears. He has nothing on this guy!
As a matter of fact, he may just be going into retirement.
I wrap my legs around Myles’ neck, yelping sounds that have probably never originated from a human throat as waves of pleasure wash over my body, crashing and receding, dragging me under and drowning me until breathing is no longer necessary. Or maybe it’s just that I’ve forgotten how.
Eventually my hands go limp around his head.
Everything goes quiet. Even the cicadas are stunned into silence. Slowly leaning back on the hard, gritty concrete, I close my eyes and heave a sigh of complete and utter bliss.
From the water comes a low chuckle, and then a splash as he takes off swimming in the other direction.
“That…” I drawl under my breath, “…was intense.”
I didn’t think he could hear me. I was wrong.
“I’ve never heard a pedicure described as intense before,” he muses. “But I think in this case I’d have to agree.”
Pushing myself up on my elbows, I watch as he leisurely makes his way over to the steps at the shallow end. He turns to sit on the top step, where there is only an inch or two of water, and that’s when I finally get to see the cannon in all its erect glory. I press my lips together, but still an involuntary squeak manages to escape. Holy mother of California redwoods…why is this guy not featured in a centerfold somewhere?
Nope. On second thought, forget that. I’d rather keep him all to myself.
“See something you like?” One corner of his mouth curves up in a sly smile.
Eyes glued to his flagpole, I tell him, “Well, it’s official. There’s not a modest boner…uh, bone in your body, is there?”
“None that I’m aware of.” As if to drive home his point, he wraps a hand around his cock and glides his fingers up and down in long, unhurried strokes, watching my reaction with barely veiled amusement.
At this point, I’m convinced that some eccentric billionaire must have offered up a fortune as a reward to the first man who can make some poor sex-starved girl spontaneously combust.
Myles is obviously in it to win it.
Slipping back into the pool, I sidestroke my way over to him, stopping just short of the metal handrail. “Were you planning on taking care of that all by yourself?”
His hand never loses its slow, dexterous rhythm. Pull up…slide down…pull up…slide down…dear God, it’s hypnotic.
“Did you have something else in mind?”
In lieu of a response, I rest my palms on his thighs and lower my head to kiss the tip of his cock. His sharp intake of breath makes me smile. He may be very adept at playing it cool, but there is one sure way to crack that arrogance and bring him to his knees.
The instant I wrap my lips around the satiny head, he removes his hand and relinquishes all control to me. It was my intention to tease him a bit, take this slow and easy, but my first taste of him is intoxicating. Salt water and grass clippings and pure, clean masculinity. He’s a highly addictive drug, and now I’m hooked. The reality of what I’m doing surpasses even my lurid fantasies, and I take all of him into my mouth, hungry for more.
One hand reaches up to caress my hair as he groans his pleasure. “Ahh...that’s it, honey…just like that…”
An overpowering, pulsing need throbs between my legs. What the hell is up with me tonight? I just, literally, had an earth-shattering orgasm no more than three minutes ago and yet I’m still aching for more. Interesting. I’ve never been a multiple-O kind of girl, but I think tonight could be the night.
His fingers tangle in my hair, gently navigating my rhythm, and for some reason that turns me on like gangbusters. I love how much he’s into this. Instead of just leaning back and letting me do all the work, he’s lifting his hips, meeting my thrusts, and that in itself is a powerful aphrodisiac. The more excited he gets, the more excited I get. It’s an exquisitely thrilling cycle.
I slide my lips up and down the length of him, tracing little patterns with my tongue, savoring his flavor. He’s picking up the pace, and I can tell he’s getting close.
“Leah…” he cautions me in a soft growl. “Baby, I’m gonna come…”
I appreciate the warning, but it isn’t necessary. I don’t want him to pull out. I intend to finish this to completion. Maybe it’s just the heat of the moment, but for some perverse reason I need to feel him exploding in my mouth. I want to know what he tastes like. To feel every pulsing surge of his orgasm. To know that I’m the one who brought him there.
“Ahh, yeah…fu-u-uck…” His fingers tighten against my scalp, and I respond by sucking in every inch of him, cupping his balls, pressing my face into the soft, wet whorls of dark hair. Taking in and swallowing stream after warm stream as he spasms against my tongue. “God, baby…oh, my God…”
I wait until the tremors subside before finally releasing him. Then, lifting my head, I lick my lips and give him a sweet, innocent smile.
“Welcome to the neighborhood.”
Laughing helplessly, he shakes his head. “You…uh…wow. That’s all I can say. Wow. Holy shit, wow.”
“I’m guessing that was acceptable?” I tease, wrapping my arms around his waist and snuggling my face into his chest. I can feel his heartbeat thrumming against my cheek.
I sigh happily when he folds me into his arms and hugs me. “I think ‘acceptable’ might be a bit of an understatement.”
“Ditto. In case you were wondering.”
“Hey…anytime I can be of assistance.” With a finger under my chin, he tilts my face up so he can kiss me. I feel the flutter of butterfly wings as his tongue dances with mine. Every part of him tastes so good. His cum was just in my mouth, and yet he has no qualms whatsoever about kissing me. Now that is hot.
It’s hard to resist the urge to grind myself against him. I’m still aching to feel him inside me, but it might be a bad idea to appear too aggressive. I don’t want him to think I’m some kind of horny nymphomaniac. I mean, you’d think he would like that, right? But you never can tell. Men are hard to understand sometimes. They’ll say one thing and then do just the opposite.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, twisting a wet strand of my hair around his finger. “Do you know that?”
“You’re kinda cute yourself,” I smile.
“Kinda cute. Mm, I suppose I can live with that. If it’s the best you can do.”<
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“I could probably do better if I tried.”
“Try.”
“All right.” Brushing my lips against his ear, I whisper, “You have the most lickable dick in all of creation and I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”
A flicker of surprise crosses his face, but it’s gone before I’m sure it was ever really there. “Sweetheart, next time you decide you want to lick any part of me, all you have to do is ask.”
“Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.” A struggling ladybug floats past me, and I cup my hand to scoop it out of the water. I watch as it crawls along my thumb for a moment before shaking its spotted wings and flying away.
“How long did you want to stay at the beach?” Myles asks unexpectedly.
“Until Thursday?” I suggest, hoping he hasn’t changed his mind.
“Your birthday’s Friday. Don’t you want to at least stay through then?”
I huff a laugh, although I’m secretly pleased that he seems willing to spend that much time with me. “Definitely not.”
“Why? Do you have other plans?”
“Yeah. To lock myself in the house and hide under the bed until the eighth.”
He gives me a strange look. “You really believe something terrible is going to happen?”
“It usually does.”
“Leah…”
“Myles…” I mimic him, tracing a circle around one of his nipples.
He grabs my finger and kisses my knuckle playfully. “You’re such a funny little thing.”
“Glad I can amuse you.”
“You do that, for sure.” Still holding my hand, he grazes it against his cheek. It’s smooth – he must’ve shaved just before I came over. “I think I’m done swimming. How about you?”
“I’m pretty sure we never actually did any swimming.”
“Overrated. I can think of a dozen more interesting things to do. Would you like to come inside?”
I can’t help but grin at the double entendre. “Yes, please.”
He rises to his feet, pulling me up with him. “I should probably warn you.”
“About what?”
“I’m not asking you inside for lemonade and cookies.”
“No?” I pretend to be disappointed, even as I have a hard time not staring at his package. The cannon is semi-erect again. Already. “Are you planning on tying me up in your basement?”
“Intriguing idea. Unfortunately, this house doesn’t have a basement.” Snagging a towel from the back of one of the patio chairs, he wraps it around me before leaning in to whisper, “Would you settle for being tied up in my bed?”
“For future reference…when you kidnap a girl, you’re not supposed to ask permission first.”
“Duly noted.” His mouth curves into a devilish smile as he rubs his hair dry with the other towel. “Last chance to escape, Goldilocks. Once I have you in my lair, you’ll be completely at my mercy. Nowhere to run.”
“Is that a threat, Papa Bear?”
“A threat?” Tossing the towel aside, he scoops me up in his arms as if I weighed no more than Charlie. “Let’s put this in the crudest of terms. I have a twelve-pack of condoms inside with your name written all over each and every one of them. And I have no intention of letting you go until that box and I are both empty.”
The wicked gleam in his eyes sends a thrill of excitement jolting through me.
“So that, my sweet little lamb…no, that is not a threat…but a promise.”
I’ve never been inside his house before.
Even now, I only get a passing glimpse because he carries me straight through to his bedroom. It’s clean, if a little messy. There are clothes scattered across the floor, and several empty soda cans and a wadded-up microwave popcorn bag littering the top of his dresser. There’s something comforting about the mess, though. It’s real. It’s human. It means that Myles isn’t an anal douchebag.
Unlike Brad. His place was immaculate to the point of being creepy. The guy didn’t just have a stick up his butt, he had the whole goddamn toilet brush stuffed up there. Heaven forbid you walked across his pristine marble floors without first taking off your shoes. I neglected to use a coaster once and he almost had an aneurysm.
Seriously – who still uses coasters? The coffee table was glass, for crissakes.
There’s no marble or glass in here, unless you count a row of collectible beer bottles. The bed is wide and long, a California king if I had to guess, probably necessary because of his height. The headboard is black leather. A black-and-gray striped comforter is already pulled back, and Myles drops me lightly on the soft cotton sheets. They smell nice, the way his clothes always do, like fresh air and fabric softener.
He blankets my body with his and impulsively I wrap my legs around him, grinding my slick wetness against his solid length. The pressure there feels so good, I could easily come from doing this alone. A little bonus no one bothered to mention – the sensitivity from my recent waxing is actually enhancing the intensity. Who’d have thought?
Thank you, Autumn. Thank you thank you thank you…
“Sweet Jesus,” Myles groans, dragging his tongue all the way up my neck to plunge it into my mouth. He explores enthusiastically before retreating to pull at my bottom lip with his teeth. “Mmm…baby, you are so fucking hot…”
“You feel…so good…” I gasp, digging my fingers into the flesh of his tight ass for leverage. I’m dying to have him inside me. I want him to fuck me like a freight train, just plow into me until my muscles are useless and my brain fades to black. Is it possible to literally screw a person senseless?
Because that’s what I want. I want to be fucked clean out of my head.
He reaches onto the nightstand for a waiting condom and hastily rips it open with his teeth. “One second, baby. Just one second.”
It takes him two seconds to roll it on, without a doubt the longest two seconds of my life. But then I feel him sliding into me – oh, so slowly – filling me with the heavy artillery, turning my insides into molten lava, and I know for certain that tonight I will discover the joys of multiple orgasms.
His husky voice is the purr of a hungry jungle cat. “There we go…there now…how’s that? That work for you, baby?”
“God…oh, yes…” I spread my legs wider and buck my hips against him, wildly, shamelessly. Every nerve ending in me is buzzing, teetering on the brink of eruption.
His hands grip my waist as he slams into me, the blue eyes hooded with passion. He growls at me between thrusts, “Fuck…girl…can’t…believe…how tight…you are…”
“Myles…” I guess he literally is fucking me senseless, because I can’t come up with anything else to say other than his name. I can’t get over how incredible this feels, how his body elicits such an intense reaction from mine. It’s like I’m experiencing sex for the first time. Like every other experience was a façade, just practice for the real thing.
“You like that?” He slows his rhythm a bit, switching it up to long, deep strokes that are delicious torture. “You like taking every inch of my cock, baby? Is this what you wanted? This big dick inside you?”
All I can do is whimper in response. I’m so close, my thighs are trembling in anticipation.
Squeezing both breasts, he rolls my nipples between his fingers and pinches them hard. “You better get used to it, ’cause you’re gonna be getting a lot of this. Yes, you are. Gonna fuck you a thousand different ways. Are you ready for that?”
Apparently the dirty talk is a turn-on for me, because suddenly I’m coming like I’ve never come before. Thrashing, digging my nails into his shoulders, crying out as the current picks me up and carries me out to sea, flowing on and on and on forever.
He picks up the pace again, thrusting hard and fast before convulsing against me, groaning my name along with a string of breathless expletives. I tighten my legs around him, shivering, still feeling the aftershocks of the most powerful orgasm of my life. Every part of me is tingling with hyper
sensitivity.
His body, slack with exhaustion, grows heavy on mine. After a moment he rolls onto his side to keep from squashing me, holding me close so that I roll along with him. His cock is still buried inside me. I wish I could keep it there. It just seems to fit so perfectly.
“Leah,” he moans, as he takes my face in his hands and kisses me. “Mm, that was amazing. Thank you.”
I’m not really sure what to say to that. You’re welcome? What a weird thing to thank a person for. Like I did him a favor or something. I guess I know what he means, though. Right now, I feel like I’m the one who should be thanking him.
“Are you okay?” He gazes into my eyes, his voice gentle with worry. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No, I’m fine.” I smile at his concern. “Better than fine.”
Mirroring my smile, he traces my lips with his finger. “Better than fine?”
“Let’s put it this way. If I smoked, I’d definitely be lighting up an entire pack of cigarettes right about now.”
“Oh, you’re smoking, all right,” he chuckles. “I think that’s how we got into this predicament in the first place.”
“Yeah, you’re right. It had nothing at all to do with your skinny dipping suggestion.”
“I have to hand it to myself. That was one of my best ideas to date.” Slipping away from me, he rolls over to discreetly remove the condom and drop it into a wastebasket by the bed. “Speaking of ideas, how about doing me a favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
“How about asking your friend Autumn to stop setting you up on blind dates. It’s a waste of time. I can promise you, none of them are going to end well.”
I arch an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
“Because the next ‘date’ who shows up at your door is going to wind up getting his ass kicked by your jealous next-door neighbor.”
I can’t tell. Is he serious? Oh please, please let him be serious!
“Why would he be jealous?” I tentatively ask.
“He doesn’t like to share.”
“Well…neither do I,” I point out. Just so he knows this is a two-way street.