Sweet Convictions

by Elizabeth, C.

  “You okay?”

  “Oh shit, yeah, sorry. It’s just the most attractive dick I have ever seen.”

  “Jesus really? Well, thank you. I must admit, that’s a first. I’ve never been complimented on it.” His face reddens.

  “Well, they weren’t looking properly then were they?” I quip, still staring down at all its glorious cockness.

  “Then again, I have however been praised for my notable capability in using it in the most pleasure-giving possible ways,” he jokes in return.

  I manage to extricate from the mesmerising gaze that keeps me locked onto his protracted supremacy and quickly veer my stare from his penis to his sparkling eyes as I wrap my perspiring, heated right hand around his pulsating thickness.

  “I guess I’ll be the judge of that Mr.”

  I begin to massage it, slowly but firmly. His head falls forward and he watches as I unite my left hand above the other, both hands simultaneously working his manhood; his blood pumping violently through his bountiful dominance. Then he fully pushes down his undies to the floor and I concurrently remove mine, still leaving on my strappy panties. His body is insatiable. He’s remarkably toned, his triceps and biceps evenly built and powerful. No surprise taking into account he goes to the gym twice a day. They look like sand dunes.

  I imagine driving my tongue like a 4x4 truck up and over the silky-smooth ridges of his arms. He has an ironing board for a stomach and long slender legs. Bumhead, I wish mine were as slim. Literally, one of my thighs is the width of both of his put together, plus extra. He’s like a perfect, handsome, confident wild stallion – magnificently powerful and playfully energetic. Oh god, I hope he’s like a bucking bull in the sack.

  He studies me, casually looking me up and down. Oh shit, he doesn’t like what he sees. I’m too fat. I knew it! I become embarrassed and cross my arms over the front of my body. As if that would even cover anything!

  “Oh no you don’t, I want to take you all in. Every single sexy inch of you. Every curve, every dimple,” he demands as he unlinks my arms and moves them to my sides so I’m standing at attention like a limp soldier.

  “Stop staring, it’s embarrassing,” I giggle. I can feel my face become flushed.

  “Really? I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I just think you’re stunning.” He sounds concerned and mortified.

  “Your body is to die for, you have such beautiful womanly curves, perfect breasts and your stomach is so sumptuous. You’re just fantastic in every way. Feminine. Sophisticated and incredibly provocative all rolled into one. As my poem says...perfection.”

  “Oh, well in that case, stare away,” I tease.

  “No I’m kidding, don’t. Come here rather.”

  I pull his face to mine and kiss him deeply, urgently as he places his hands under my arms. I giggle winching away from his embrace.

  “Oh fuck, sorry, I’m ticklish.” Trust me to ruin the moment.

  “Oh, okay sorry.”

  Now expecting it, he moves his hands gently in this time and lifts me as easily as if I’m a size zero, forcefully flinging me backward onto the bed. I instantly become dizzy as my head bounces forward off the mattress and lands back on the softness again. It’s spinning. I guess it could be anything from the wine, the sudden lift-and-dump action or the uncontrollable pining I’m feeling towards him.

  “I want to feel you inside of me,” I say beggingly, eagerly awaiting his influx.

  He moves over me and hovers above me, frowning murderously down at me as he staunchly encircles his A4 sized grip around my neck. Yes, it might sound odd that I know how big his hands are, but I couldn’t help asking him during one of our in-depth, inquiring conversations a while back. Besides the already extensive inventory of partner preferences, I too have a thing about men’s hands. They can’t be dainty and weak looking. They absolutely must be clean and nails neatly maintained but also, they need to be masculine and strong. When I asked how big his hands were, other than getting back a hundred question marks, he obligingly went on to tell me that if he places his hand onto an A4 size sheet of paper and spreads his fingers with the bottom of his hand in line with the base of the page, the tip of his middle finger isn’t too far off from the tippy top with his thumb and pinkie touching the sides. Mmm, such long strong fingers inside me.

  “All in good time my sweet. I want to relish you with my sight and touch first."

  “Okay,” I say as my voice cracks with emotion. Oh how long I’ve waited for this feeling.

  His lustful stare is captivating. Our eyes remain locked on one another as he kisses my cheeks, my chin, my lips and my nose. I wrinkle it and giggle softly. Then he closes my eyes to plant kisses on both eyelids before pressing his lips onto the middle of my forehead between my eyes.

  “It’s said that if your loved one kisses you on your third eye; your pineal gland, it activates the gland opening up its reception and creating peace and enlightenment.”

  “Wooow,” I muster as I sigh in a spiritual pleasure. Loved one? Did he just say loved one?

  “Well, something to that effect anyway.”

  Then he courses the tips of his lengthy fingers along the contours of my hip bones – up and over, dipping into the last remaining concaves of my tummy. He slowly and teasingly slides down one of my panty straps, however not all the way. He lightly kisses my hips and moves his sensuous lips further down to my pelvis. My breathing becomes shorter and faster. I’m aching urgently for him. I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want him. My extreme need for him is irrepressible and I find it difficult to breathe.

  With one hand I run my fingers through his perfectly styled hair. It’s stiffened with gel but I scrunch a thick chunk of it into my hand all the same. I grip onto his bulging tricep with the other, as he holds himself up above me before looking back into my eyes.

  I list both my hands and gently stroke them against his cheeks as we stare deeply into each other’s souls. He looks at me with love and adoration whilst I’m positive it can’t be possible for him to love me. Not so soon anyway. But then again why and how do I already feel like I love him? Of course, I don’t utter such words. I lose myself in the moment savouring his every touch, his every caress and I’m grateful for the time that he’s taking to delight in me.

  I feel his bony hips arrive between my thighs, his slimness hurts slightly on my groin but the sensation of my clit being teased and stroked by the tip of his cock invades my mind and completely takes it over. His stubble brushes against my cheek as he moves his mouth from mine to my neck. Still not entering me.

  Then he trails his wet tongue down along my neck, over my chest and through the pleat of my cleavage, arriving down the centre of my stomach, into and out of my bellybutton. He looks up at me. My eyes still piercing down at him and our eyes meet.

  “You okay?” he asks considerately from below.

  “I’m in absolute heaven. Don’t stop.”

  I’m enjoying his sweet tenderness but now I’m ready for him to savagely exploit my body in any way he’d like.

  “Just so we’re clear, you don’t have to be gentle the entire time. Whatever you want won’t scare me.”

  “I know. Glad you consent to a bumpier ride. But for now I’m just easing you in before I completely take over your body and mind.”

  “I’ll be honest, you’re not far from doing that already. This feels amazing.”

  He buries his head between my legs and launches into an amazingly pleasurable tongue-swivelling action at the tip of my quivering clit. The warmth of his breath and the heated wetness of his tongue almost burn at their touch. A finger skilfully and softly slides around the entry before piercing into my soaking pussy. I contract.

  “Mmm, quite the talented one ain’t ya Ms Bentley?” Mark teases.

  “Indeed,” I say in breathless anticipation as he slides in another, and then another. I tighten some more. He continues to finger and lick me for ages before coming up for air to kiss me as I lick off my own tast
e from his lips. I wheeze at the torturously tantalising touch of his hardness teasing my clit as it massages against me. He quickly crawls backwards and I watch him pick up his jeans to retrieve a condom.

  “So much for not assuming anything,” I rag.

  “This is a just-in-case-packet. The metre-long assemblage of condoms that are in my bag confirm all assumptions,” he laughs, quickly changing his tone to that of sudden concern.

  “Sorry, I could always stop if you’d prefer?”

  “Don’t be fucking daft!”

  I watch as he rips open the plastic and pulls the slippery rubber over his shaft before moving back in toward me. The safe trustworthy Missionary: he’s on his knees and my legs are hung over his thighs as he enters me.

  “Ho-ly h-e-ll.”

  Once again my breath is stolen away. He’s bigger than I’ve ever had before. Not quite unbearable but my god it’s not much further off from being almost intolerable, for me anyway. Not only is the skirting of my petite ingress being stretched to the max but I feel the pressure from his tip as it touches parts of my insides I never knew were reachable. Shit, I hope my coil is still intact! Better take a morning-after pill tomorrow, just in case.

  The thought of a large chunk of meat re-enters my mind. He fucks me slowly at the start, tenderly and thoroughly. Our bodies fused together as one. I bite his shoulder and he casually adjusts his speed. Then like a beat boxer, he quickens his pace.

  My legs still flopped over his, I press my feet down hard into the mattress and lift my bum into the air so I can feel him even deeper inside of me. He straightens his upper body, clamps both his hands onto each of my hips and pulls me closer as I cooperatively propel my body towards him until we affix into a physical paradise. I feel light trickles of sweat drizzle off his powerful body onto mine as I burrow my nails into the top of his back and drag them slow and hard along his shoulder blades bringing them down along his sides. He winces and grabs onto my arms gently lifting me forward until my face is in line with his chest. His hairs tickle my nose.

  His grip becomes harder as he lifts me and rolls himself onto his back, his cock still buried inside of me, re-jigging our positions to bring me on top of him. Just the way I like it. It’s time for this here cowgirl to take the libidinous reign.

  I try to get comfortable as I straddle him, tactfully wriggling about in an attempt to impede the sudden pinch of cramp that shoots through my thigh. I lean in and caress his forehead, then his nose. A higher passion inflames me as I assiduously and hungrily kiss his lips and begin to play rodeo with a dominatrix clout. I contort about some more not yet allowing myself to fully settle on top of him. His cock is just so big that it pushes into the insides of my stomach. For now I lean back giving myself time to ease him in and granting him a full frontal flash of my assets as I rest my arms on his shins, hanging my head back and brushing his ankles with the softness of my long loose hair. I massage my breasts with one hand then slide it slowly downward over my pussy and up to my mouth as I taste myself before moving it back down again. It’s not something I’m fond of doing much but I know that it turns him on, so I’m more than happy to please.

  I lift my head to watch him watch me as I begin to thrust my hips forward and back, teasing him. His sight glued to my wobbling tits. I look down at them, cup them and squeeze them together. His bottom lip begins to quiver ever so slightly as I pinch both nipples and groan as I take one breast into my hand, lift it towards my mouth and lap quick light licks over my hardened nipple. Mark grunts loudly. Ooh, he likes that. I do it to the other side before squishing both tits together again and bending my neck right in to slide my tongue along the crease of my cleavage.

  His face is emblazoned with an avarice covet. His expression turning to one of grimacing vehemence. He grips my arms, yanks me forward and presses down on my hips. The entire magnitude of his erection is now fully and wholly inside me. I feel his juices pumping and flowing through the veins in his cock. He lifts my body and pumps me up and down his engorged length with his muscular arms, faster and faster. His excitement takes him over. I release myself from his grip and I raise his arms above his head, pinning them up against the headboard as I reclaim control. I keep with the momentum then alter my position into a slight squat so I can lift myself up and down over his hardness. After just seconds, my thighs start to burn like hell, so I kneel back down and ride him forward and backwards, my clit rubbing copiously against his pelvis. A flurry of overwhelming fluster fortifies within and my need for him intensifies. The sounds of his groans and the smacking of our bodies against each other turn me on even more. I let his arms free and he immediately pulls me further in, as I push back out. In, out, in, out. Ah such a great team effort. Then he stops mid-thrust.

  “Where’s that little fun box of yours then?”

  “Oh shit, you remembered,” I puff out a laugh as I lean across the bed towards my drawer of all things mischievous. I can’t quite reach whilst I’m on top of him so I climb off and walk around the divan. My legs feel like jelly. They’re shaking so much I struggle to keep myself up.

  “Well, seeing as you’re not afraid of experimenting, I’ll bring out the toy I bought especially for us.”

  “You’ve got one for both of us?”

  “Yep.” I smile with a seductive wickedness and split open the plastic packaging taking out a vibrating cock ring. It’s two rubber cock rings parallel to one another, kinda like the figure eight. In the middle it has a mini vibrating bullet cased in another piece of rubber.

  “Fucking hell what the hell is it?”

  “I’ll show you. Just lie back, close your eyes and wait until I tell you to open them,” I decree.

  He does as he’s told and gulps as I take one of the rings and wrap it gently under and around both of his balls. I loop the second ring around his cock and switch it on. His body spasms, his eyes widen and an irresolute smile broadens across his face. I mount him and slowly lower myself as my pussy enslaves the length of his cock. I run my hands over his taut pecks as they ripple up and over his undulating muscles.

  A ferocious pang of passion stirs up inside me as my clitoris touches down on the vibrating pellet and rips through me like something out of a Freddy Krueger film. I dig my nails deeper into his flesh as he cringes, enjoying it all the same. My kisses become hungrier and I want to swallow him whole. A little crazy I know. The sensation of my buzzing beast on my clit and his throbbing monster piercing the deepest parts of my carnal crevice sends me into a wild frenzy. The madness takes control and I ride him into a fleeting craze. My hair witlessly flicking back and forth across my face with every thrust of my entire body like I’m head banging at a heavy metal gig, stimulating my clit the closer and faster I massage it against the buzzing pleasures of the speedy bullet. I take in every inch of his plump efficacy building up a sweat as though I’ve run a mile on the treadmill.

  Mark’s guttural groans become deeper, more urgent, more fierce. He’s pulling me as he grinds his teeth and snarls at me like a rabid animal. I manage to somehow shriek at a level that only dogs could have heard or at least only an opera singer could reach.

  Now let me just take this opportunity to say that generally my orgasms are typically instigated by the assistance of something that vibrates over it or from a hot, wet and quick-flicking tongue. I’m one of those unfortunate women who can’t orgasm purely from penetration. But let me tell you that oh my god, it just happened. It’s taken umpteen relationships to get to this point and boy oh boy was it worth the wait.

  I quiver at every movement and take pleasure in the warmth of his wetness permeating my insides as he too peaks just seconds after me.

  Chapter 14

  Lying with my head on his chest, quickly lifting and lowering in time with his breathing, his heart beating loudly in my ear, I hear a golden oldie start to play in the background. Do That To Me One More Time. Impeccable timing as we just manage to steady our breathlessness into a significantly reasonable pace. We laugh as I climb of
f and he releases his shrinking erection from the constraints of the condom, dabs the tip dry and rolls it up into some tissue that I conveniently put next to the bed earlier. What? I like to be prepared.

  I’m besotted! I’m truly, triply and smittenly fucked now, and in more ways than one. Where I thought what I felt for him was infatuation, I can’t help believe that it might actually be love.

  I mean think about it. I personally deem these as just some of the earlier signs of being in love or at least heading in that direction:

  The bad case of butterflies you get in your tummy. Your palms become sweaty, your heart rate increases and you become tongue-tied with every word you say;

  Songs become that much more meaningful. So much so you actually take the time to listen to the lyrics and connect them to that person or a moment you’ve shared;

  Time flies when you’re with them. It really does! Your time together just isn’t enough;

  The object of your affection takes over your normal thought patterns. They’re all you think about. They’re all you see;

  You realise you have a goofy grin on your face every time you think of that person whether it be at something they did or said;

  When you’re apart, you long for the time you’re back together. It becomes harder and less bearable to be separated;

  You become more envious of where they are and who they’re with. It’s not crazy, it’s just natural;

  You become more patient with that person. Usual annoying traits become more tolerable. Although be reminded, this does not always last;

  Everything about anything seems better. Goals seem more achievable. Life generally feels great;

  You envisage a future together. You practice your married signature and repeat how it sounds.

  Our meeting was the perfect coincidence. When I think back to not too long ago, I recall standing at my window crying my heart out, literally sobbing so much I found it hard to breathe. I was standing in my pyjamas at the huge windows in the lounge of my flat, for all the neighbouring estate below to see. I was staring up at the sky of clouds that looked like white and grey ink blots, shouting and begging for an answer as to why I was so alone when I had so much love to give. I wanted an answer. I wanted a sign so I could understand the pain and loneliness I was feeling at the time. The insane part about it is that we worked out that Mark was doing the very same thing, of course in a slightly more manly fashion about a month or so before.