Spirit

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Spirit Page 6

by Ashe Barker


  My own orgasm spent, my body relaxes a little, but it’s enough for me to fully experience and savour Matt’s release as he drives his cock balls-deep inside me, then holds still, his breath rasping against my cheek as his entire body tightens and tenses. He lets out a guttural moan as his semen erupts into the condom, then sinks down onto me for a moment before rolling onto his side. Still inside me, his arms locked around my shoulders he carries me with him as he completes the turn to roll onto his back. I am sprawled across his chest, my breasts flattened against his solid body. He caresses my sides, then my bottom, and again I shiver with the beautiful intimacy of his after loving.

  “Fuck, that was good.” Matt mutters the words then bends his neck to kiss the top of my head.

  “Yes.” Somewhat lacking in imagination, but I hope captures the essence.

  “You okay?”

  “Oh yes.” Similarly succinct.

  “Merry Christmas.”

  “Yes.” My post-coital conversation needs work.

  “Sleep now?”

  “Do you want me to go?”

  “I told you, you can stay. As long as you like.”

  “I mean my own room. Do you want me to go back to my own bed?”

  “Idiot.” He lifts me from him, at last breaking the connection between us. I groan at the loss as he positions me beside him. “Your bed’ll be cold by now.”

  “I suppose so.” I snuggle up to him and he loops one arm around me as he uses the other to do whatever’s necessary with the condom.

  I’m asleep before the latex hits the carpet.

  Chapter Five

  “Wake up. Santa’s been.” The soft voice is right in my ear, tickling me. Nibbling, nuzzling, tracing a feathery trail across my shoulder…

  “Mmm, that’s nice.”

  “No more until you open your eyes.” The pleasant sensations stop and I’m tugged over onto my back.

  I open my eyes. Matt’s nose is nudging mine, his eyes a brilliant blue in the thin wintry morning light. I squint up at him.

  “I was asleep.”

  “Noticed that. You can’t sleep now, it’s Christmas.”

  “Did someone make a new law?”

  “I make the laws here, and I say it’s time to wake up, I can’t fuck you when you’re asleep.”

  “You could…”

  “Oh no. I want you conscious, consenting, and coming like a bitch in heat. That means awake. You ready?”

  “Ready?”

  “Spread your legs, sweetheart.”

  Ah, that sort of ready. I’m amazed to admit that I am. Entirely ready. Even so, Matt slides two fingers inside me, by way of making sure.

  “Sweetheart, you’re so hot, so fucking tight. And wet.”

  I moan, stretching, loving the sensations coursing through me. I could wake up like this every day. “Don’t stop doing that.”

  “Roll over.”

  “Why?”

  “No questions, just do as you’re told. On all fours. Now.”

  On reflection, I have no further questions anyway. I wriggle into position, a little nervous as this will be my first time doggy style. I’ve heard it’s deeper, more…

  “Oh. My. God.”

  Intense. Yes, that was it, more intense.

  It is. Much more. I clutch the pillow under my face and hang into it as Matt thrusts into me from behind, his strokes long and deep, setting up a fast rhythm. He reaches around and under me to lay the pad of his middle finger over my clit. A couple of sharp rubs later and I’m climaxing, my scream muffled as I bury my face in the bedding. He’s not far behind, his own orgasm signalled by a sudden tensing followed by a sharp, hard jerk of his thick cock inside me.

  We both collapse, face down on the bed. Matt rolls off me and onto his back.

  “I’ve got a present for you.”

  “Oh. Oh, but I haven’t got you anything. Well, not a real present. I did make you something though.” I have no cash to go shopping, but I found myself watching one of those cookery programmes on daytime television a few days ago, and they had a recipe for chocolate fudge. Matt has a sweet tooth so I raided his cupboards and found the ingredients I needed to make him some. The little cubes are wrapped in silver paper, safely stashed under my bed. “It’s not in here though. Shall I just go and…

  “You’re going nowhere, at least not yet. I’m sure whatever you made is gorgeous, but for now you are my Christmas treat, Beth. And may I say, you’re turning into a seriously fun date.”

  “See, told you.”

  “Careful, no one likes ‘I told you so.’ Do you want your present?”

  I sit up, heedless of my nudity. Matt lifts a hand to caress my naked breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers. I had been about to demand my gift right this minute, but instead I arch my back and moan as his delightful touch sends sparks of desire straight to my pussy.

  “You were right. You are a slut. So, do you want your present or not?”

  “Yes, but…”

  He abandons my swollen nipple and rolls from the bed. “Wait there.”

  Where else? I lie back, dampening down my frustration at the insistent throbbing in my nipple but determined to have my way with him again when he comes back.

  I don’t have long to wait. A couple of minutes later Matt returns, a tray of tea in his hands, and a large, gift-wrapped box balanced under his elbow. I grin at him, thinking he looks sort of comical. Being naked is probably the main reason, though the little Santa hat perched on his head helps.

  He dumps the tray on the bedside table, and the parcel on the bed. I can see another, much smaller gift on the tray, too.

  “Are those both for me?”

  “Yeah. Open the big one first.”

  I kneel up and attack the wrapping paper. I feel like a kid again, all excited and giddy. I gasp when I see the box inside. A pair of Merrell hiking boots. The box claims these particular beauties to be sturdy, lightweight and guaranteed waterproof. Not the most romantic of gifts, but utterly practical and totally me. These are shoes to die for, and certainly never to take off. I have invariably slept in my shoes the last few months—someone would swipe them otherwise—but these would be a pleasure to wear in bed.

  “Oh. Oh, wow. Matt, they’re gorgeous. Lovely. They must have cost a fortune.”

  “I bought them for you the second day you were here. I chucked your other ones in the bin that first night.”

  “Right. I had wondered.” Although my clothes came back from the laundry more or less unscathed and a whole lot cleaner, my tatty old shoes had disappeared. They were just about knackered anyway, and when Matt presented me with a pair of new trainers to slop around in I decided I could do without. But these, these are something else entirely. These are shoes to last a lifetime.

  On impulse I throw my arms around him and hug him. His Santa hat flutters to the floor but neither of us cares as we sink back onto the mattress.

  “What about your other present. You need to unwrap that too.”

  “Later.”

  “Now.”

  His tone has taken on that edge, that elusive quality that says, ‘do it, and don’t keep me waiting.’ I reach for the tray bearing the smaller parcel.

  I shake it, and it gives a promising rattle. Something solid, in a box. Not especially heavy. I peep up at Matt.

  “What is it?”

  “Open it.”

  Right. Good strategy. I peel back the gold crinkly paper to reveal a small, white box. It’s plain, offering no clues. I lift the lid, and gasp.

  It’s a watch, on a pendant. The chain is dark gold and sturdy, and the watch is moulded in the shape of a cheerful little owl, whose wings drop down to cover the watch face. His features are wise, characterful. I fall in love on the spot.

  “He’s so sweet, I love him.” I lift the pendant from its box intending to slip it over my neck

  “Look at the back.” Matt gestures with his finger that I
should turn the owl over. I do, and at first can’t see anything out of the ordinary. The gold casing is moulded to imitate feathers, the pattern delicate and sharp. I glance back at Matt, puzzled.

  He flicks a tiny ridge on the edge, and the back flips open to reveal another watch. No, not a watch. I look more closely to find it’s a compass, the north arrow swivelling fast as I turn it in my hands.

  “Oh! Oh, that’s gorgeous. And so clever.” The gift is both pretty, and practical.

  “I thought it would help with your planning. It’s good to know where you are now, and where you’re headed. Yes?”

  I nod, my eyes tearing up. A simple idea, but so thoughtful. And so right for me.

  “I wish I had something more for you. Something valuable.”

  “You have. Your company is valuable to me, and you now have the means to find your way back. That’s all I want.”

  I look up at him, my vision hopelessly blurred. “Have I told you that you’re the nicest person I’ve ever met?”

  He wipes my tears away with his thumbs. “Not yet.”

  “I will. I so will.”

  “Looking forward to it. Have your tea first though.”

  * * *

  The rest of Christmas Day passes in a haze of hot sex, glitzy television, and rich red wine. I present Matt with his fudge, feeling somewhat embarrassed in the face of his generosity. He’s having none of that though and insists I feed him his Christmas sugar rush naked. A piece at a time. He even convinces me it might be fun to place a cube of fudge between my pussy lips for him to nibble away. He’s right, naturally. I wonder if I should send the serving suggestion to the television cookery show which first inspired me.

  Matt even rustles up a delicious Christmas lunch, though not the traditional turkey as neither of us cares for it. Instead, he drags on a pair of tattered old jeans and gets a large fillet of halibut from the fridge. He poaches it in milk, then makes a mustard sauce to pour over it. Fudge aside, I’m no sort of a cook myself, so I watch in rapt admiration as he assembles all the ingredients without so much as a sniff at a recipe book then stirs, blends, boils it all into submission. The final touch is some spinach, a vegetable I have always despised or so I thought. Matt drops it into boiling water for a few seconds then piles the wilted leaves onto our plates. The halibut goes on top, then the sauce. He hands me a plate and a fork, and I curl up on one end of the sofa with my meal. Matt takes up his position at the other end and we watch the Christmas blockbuster on television as we eat.

  “Do you want to go out later?” Matt calls out to me as I carry our empty plates over to the sink. The washing up will have to wait though.

  “Where? Everything’s closed.”

  “We could probably find somewhere in town.”

  “Well I couldn’t eat anything else, and we have plenty of booze here.” Matt’s not a big drinker I’ve noticed, but that doesn’t stop him from having a well filled wine rack and a drinks fridge full of Budweiser.

  “Fair enough. Reckon I’ll have to settle for fucking you again then.”

  “Mmm, probably. Or I could fuck you.”

  “Interesting. What do you have in mind?”

  I’m wearing one of his T-shirts, as usual, and nothing else. I drag it off and toss it onto the floor as I prowl back across the room. Matt doesn’t move. He waits for me to reach him then lies back, his legs stretched out in front of the settee.

  “Go on then, do your worst, Miss Harte.”

  I kneel between his feet and reach for the zip on his jeans. He never bothered to fasten the button. I unzip him and spread the fabric to reveal his already solid cock.

  “Lift up.” I tap his hip indicating he should raise his bum and let me pull his jeans down. At first he doesn’t oblige so I glance up at him to catch a quirk of his eyebrow. If pushed I would have to describe it as grumpy. But even so, he does as I ask.

  I peel his jeans down his legs and shove them behind me on the floor. Then I wrap my fingers around his stiff cock and stroke it from base to tip.

  Matt says nothing, but his head rolls back to rest on the leather behind him. His eyes are closed. I shuffle a little closer and use my other hand to cup his balls, surprising myself at the weight of them. I roll them in my palm, my fingers caressing the skin covering them, I love the roughness of the texture, and the way his nuts actually move in my hand.

  “I like your dick.”

  “Thank God for that. Beth, I…” Whatever he might have intended to say is choked off as I lean in to take the head of his oh-so-likable dick in my mouth. I use both hands and my mouth to caress him. This is a first for me so I listen for any tell-tale sounds to provide feedback on how I’m doing. Matt is quite vocal.

  “Shit, girl, that’s fucking wonderful.”

  Ah, right. I scrape my teeth around the smooth head of his cock, enjoying the salty tang of the fluid weeping from the slit at the end. At the same time I squeeze his balls, lifting and rolling them in my hand.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  Sounds like another winner. I pump my hand up and down the thick shaft, relishing the wetness now coating it, the combined effect of my saliva and his own lubrication. My movements are slick and fast, and the sharp thrusting of his hips indicates that my efforts are appreciated. I pause briefly to reposition myself on the sofa, kneeling next to him. At this angle I can reach better to massage his cock as well as using my lips and tongue to caress the head. I offer him a quick, enthusiastic smile, then bend to my task.

  Just a few moments later Matt’s hand descends onto my shoulder. I halt, turning my head to look up at him.

  “Enough. Now you fuck me.”

  I pop his cock out of my mouth and kneel up. “Anything you say, oh lord and master.”

  He frowns at me, his mouth twisting into a wry smile.

  “Not yet, baby, but we’re working on it. Now put this on and get busy.”

  He hands me a condom, still in the foil. I experience a moment’s panic. Whilst I appreciate his sense of responsibility, this is a first for me. I haven’t actually put a condom on before. Do they print instructions on the side? I peer hopefully at the little packet.

  “Take it out of the wrapper, pinch the end between your finger and thumb, and roll it on. I’ll help if you get stuck.”

  Under Matt’s expert tutelage I manage to get the condom suitably positioned. Pleased with myself I scramble across and straddle his hips, conscious of my own drooling pussy waiting to receive him. This is another first as far as I’m concerned so I’m not entirely sure how it will go, though the mechanics of the thing seem clear enough. I reach for his sheathed cock between my legs and position it at my entrance, then lower my body onto his. My movements are slow, somewhat cautious, and I daresay Matt could have hastened me along by thrusting upwards. He doesn’t do that though, allowing me to complete the movement until he is fully embedded inside me. I feel full, stretched, a little awed, and very much in control.

  “Squeeze as you lift up, and relax as you go down. Come on girl, look lively.”

  Matt is grinning at me as he issues his commands, but I appreciate his advice. I try few practice strokes before I find my rhythm, and as I settle into my tempo Matt joins in, thrusting against me as I move. The combined effect is glorious, and I throw my head back to better savour the pleasure coursing through me. Every rub of sensation, every ecstatic shiver, every nerve-tingling spasm in my pussy. From his guttural oaths and groans I know Matt is loving this too, and this is an even bigger turn on, to know he is as affected as I am.

  He reaches for my breast and caresses the lower curve before rolling my swollen nipple between his finger and thumb. I arch my back, a silent plea for more. He lifts his shoulders from the sofa to fasten his lips around my other nub and sucks on it as he continues to squeeze and tug on its twin. The combined stimulation sends darts of electricity straight to my core and I know it won’t be long before I come again. I try to dampen the sensation, deter
mined not to succumb until I complete my task. It’s futile. I know it. Matt certainly knows it as he intensifies the pressure on my nipples and uses his free hand to slide between our bodies and circle my clit.

  “Let it go, sweetheart. Let me finish this.”

  “I want… I—oh.” He rubs my clit mercilessly, shattering my good intentions in a moment. My orgasm ripples through my body as I convulse around his cock. I slump forward, clutching at his shoulders for balance but finding none. It is Matt’s arms around me that prevent me toppling from the sofa as my muscles abandon any pretence of being under my control.

  “Shit, baby, that’s so good. Fucking hot, so fucking…” Matt murmurs in my ear, his tone lowering to a growl as his own release seizes him. He thrusts up hard, bracing my boneless form to gain maximum impact as his cock lurches forward. The solid head of his cock is nudging my cervix, his erection filling me totally as he stiffens. The swill of semen is liquid heat as it spurts to fill the condom. My inner muscles tighten in response, my entire body shaking with the intensity of sensation as I spin into some weird half-life before drifting back into the here and now.

  Matt is still holding me, his breath warm against my cheek. I lay my face on his chest and can feel his heart thumping inside, the rate fast but slowing as he relaxes. For several moments neither of us speaks.

  “Did you like being on top?”

  “Mmm, fabulous. Did I do okay?”

  “Passable I suppose.” He kisses the top of my head and pats my bum, the gestures intended to show he’s teasing me.

  I snuggle against him, loving the relaxed post-sex banter which seems to flow so naturally between us. “You can lie back and think of the Empire then in future, and I’ll do the hard work.”

  “Is this another dig at my age?”

 

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