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Hung

Page 17

by Holly Hart

I stretched out my leg under the table, searching for one of Clay's muscular legs. He'd been getting snappy over the past couple of weeks, no matter how often I'd unzipped his jeans and pleasured him with my mouth, and I knew he was reaching his limit. He'd had to see me prancing around on stage and dancing with girls dressed in not much more than lingerie for the past two weeks, and he was about ready to blow. A guy like Clay wasn't built for celibacy.

  I wouldn’t have minded his mild irritation if it weren't for the fact that Clay was better with his tongue than any man I'd ever shared my bed with. And, truth be told, I wasn't handling this post-childbirth period of forced celibacy much better than he was… Clay had awakened me sexually, turned me into a dirty, filthy girl, and then knocked me up before I got a proper chance to explore myself!

  We'd slept with each other until almost the end of the pregnancy, maybe more than at the start, because Clay couldn't keep his hands off me once he saw my belly starting to swell. But, to my frustration, it was gentle, caring sex – he didn't feel like he could let loose, and to be fair, I couldn't blame him.

  Clay had wrapped me up in cotton wool like a good girl, but I needed to break free. I needed him to break me.

  "It's time…" I said in a sultry tone of voice, my outstretched toes finding his thick calf.

  "Time for what, Liss?" he said absentmindedly, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose in a tired gesture. Then, I presume, he felt my foot journeying up his leg. He sat up quickly. "Oh, time?" I saw a flash of excitement across his face, only to be replaced by a look of hungry desire. "You're not playing with me, are you?"

  "I wouldn't dare," I said teasingly. It was true, though, even if the only reason I wouldn't dare was because Clay had too much of a hold on me – I knew that the moment I started teasing him, I'd give in to my own selfish desire to straddle him.

  He tossed off his glasses, and I had to admit – sexy as I found him while wearing them, his naked, unadorned face was sexier still. He had a little stubble left on his cheeks and I fantasized about dragging my lips down it, rubbing my hands against it, and the feeling of it gently grazing the sensitive, soft skin on the inside of my thighs. He picked up the phone to the cabin, and as I realized what he was about to do, I decided to play a game.

  He punched two buttons and put the handset to his ear. "Jim?" he said, speaking directly to the pilot. As he did so, I dragged my toes teasingly up the inside of his thigh and planted the ball of my right foot directly on his crotch. Clay sucked a mouthful of air in between pursed lips, staring directly at my eyes reproachfully.

  I shot him a dirty, unapologetic look and decided to continue doing exactly what I wanted. His eyes might scream no, but his stiffening cock, and the sudden shock of his hand gripping my bare foot and shoving it harder onto his package said exactly the opposite. Clay wanted this, and he wanted it bad.

  "Can you—" Clay paused, holding his breath as I stroked my foot down his cock, my other leg stroking the inside of his thigh. His eyes briefly rolled into the back of his head, but I saw him bite his lip to bring himself back to reality, and with a masterful effort he started speaking again. "—give us some privacy for a little while?"

  He paused, listening to the pilot's response. "Thanks, Jim. Oh, and Jim," he said, as if trying to catch the man before he hung up the phone, "yeah – if you could circle a bit before you land this thing, that would be great."

  I grinned at him sexually. That was exactly the kind of thing I wanted to hear.

  "Good thinking," I whispered.

  "How long?" He repeated Jim's question. "Until you run out of fuel," he finished, hanging up the phone.

  "You cheeky little minx," he said, grabbing my foot harder and thrusting his raging stiff cock into its soft base. It felt filthy, and carnal, and I loved it. "You enjoyed every minute of that, didn't you?"

  "Didn't you?" I winked, turning his question back on himself.

  Clay didn't reply, not with his words, anyway, just stood up and walked over to me. As he closed a short distance, I couldn't help but stare at the thick, bulging cock practically hanging out of his jeans. "Looks like someone wants to say hello," I said.

  Clay just growled. He was done with talking, always was when he got in this mood. And because we'd been conscientiously following the doctor's orders not to have sex the three months following childbirth, I wasn't just excited about what he was about to do to me – I was a little bit scared.

  Blowjobs were one thing, but a man like Clay couldn't be sated with oral sex alone – and right now, he was practically humming with delayed sexual tension. He stood above me, and I looked up at him with fuck-me eyes. "What are you going to do to me?" I asked, desperate for him to vocalize it.

  He did no such thing, just grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me up, his huge strength making light work of it. His mouth met mine, and he kissed me hungrily. I rubbed my hand on his cock and felt him shiver with the pleasure that coursed through his body in response.

  "You like that?" I asked rhetorically, unbuttoning his belt and unzipping his jeans. It was usually something I struggled with, but I was so horny it felt like I was playing a game on easy mode, like my brain and body had both snapped into gear with one sole desire – to feel Clay's enormous cock stretching me from the inside. He grunted and threw me down onto one of the soft leather chairs that didn't have a table in front of it to get in the way. It was more of a comfortable armchair than a plane seat, and there was more than enough room for me to stretch out.

  I was still wearing my hyper-sexualized stage outfit because I wanted to hurry home as soon as possible, figuring I could change on the plane, and the dark grey plaid skirt was far, far shorter than I'd ever have worn in real life. Luckily for Clay, that just meant easy access.

  "Take me, Clay," I ordered huskily. As usual, he didn't listen to me in the slightest. He loved it when he had me begging for his cock, and he liked to be in charge. Luckily for me, I liked him being in control.

  He ripped off my panties in one motion, leaving them torn in pieces on the floor. I was as wet as I'd been since before I gave birth, and there was absolutely no need for extra lubrication. He inserted one long, fat finger and I jerked with pleasure, widening my legs almost automatically to give him more access. "Yes…" I breathed.

  "They know exactly what we're doing in here," Clay muttered, his voice deep and husky with desire. "In fact, they've probably got cameras. Jim's probably watching this as we speak…"

  A year ago, the thought would have shocked me. But I was a different girl than I'd been before I met Clay.

  "Then we better give him a show." I smirked.

  Clay studied my face carefully, looking for any hint that I wasn't entirely serious about what I just said. I had no idea if he was joking or not about the cameras, but I realized that I didn't care. All I wanted was a long overdue orgasm, no matter who saw it.

  Clay stroked my bare calf, pushing his hand up my perfectly shaved legs, then forced his way under my body, searching for the zip that held my short, tight skirt together. He found it immediately, and the muffled sound of the zipper unfastening followed shortly behind. The skirt joined my panties on the floor.

  "You shaved," he said approvingly. "You knew this was going to happen, didn't you?"

  "I thought about it." I smiled. I done more than just think about it. Every second of alone time I'd had, had seen me rubbing myself furiously imagining this very moment.

  Clay leaned over and bent his head between my legs. That was the last conscious thought I had for almost an hour.

  He licked me from the bottom to the top of my soaking wet pussy, and I thrust my hips up into his face. I was desperate for this, desperate for him, but I knew he'd take his time, and I was determined to enjoy it.

  "Oh, Clay…" I groaned as his hands gripped my hips, and he used them as a support to devour my slit ever harder. He was everywhere – licking, sucking, kissing and nibbling every exposed millimeter of the sensitive pink flesh between my l
egs. He had the middle finger of his right hand buried deep within me and stroking me in a come hither motion that was hitting my g-spot precisely.

  My hips bucked; they were out of control, like a bronco at a fairground. I could barely believe that Clay managed to keep his magic finger working away as though my uncontrollable spasms of pleasure were nothing but a distraction. Then again, he was incredibly strong – to him I must have weighed less than a feather. His left hand was busy, too, his palm pressed down on my mound in precisely the right place for his middle finger to compress the sensitive flesh inside me against it, doubling the pleasure. His thumb stroked my clit, making slow circular motions that built upon each other.

  And that was all before he really put his mouth to work on the dripping wet slit between my legs. When he did, I felt like fireworks were going off between my hips and shooting directly to my nipples. My whole body was a battleground of pleasure, and he was the general.

  "Clay, I need you," I begged, but to no avail. He moved his left hand, and I moaned as my clit begged for the return of the slow, gentle pressure of his thumb, but no more than half a second passed before he replaced his thumb with his tongue and repeated exactly the same motion. I was in heaven, so close to cumming that my hands were ground into the soft leather of the chair so hard I was in danger of leaving fingernail marks, so close to cumming that I was gripping Clay's gorgeous head between my thighs, and so close that I was yelping with pleasure.

  "Now," Clay said, monosyllabically, and stood up. My pussy was aching for his cock, but I couldn't talk, couldn't beg, in fact, was simply struck dumb by the unbelievable, unbroken pleasure I’d just experienced. I'd already done the hard work in loosening his belt and unzipping his jeans, so all Clay had to do was shrug them off and kick them away from where they fell in a puddle at the bottom of his feet. He pulled off his T-shirt with one hand and threw it carelessly away, not bothering to look, because he only had eyes for me.

  He lifted my hips up and positioned my feet on the leather seat for support, then entered me in one long, fluid motion that had me biting my lip. I was almost nervous that his cock would somehow bring back memories of the pain I'd experienced in childbirth, but it did nothing of the sort. Instead of pain, all I experienced was delirious pleasure.

  "Oh my God," I moaned as he started thrusting, so close to the edge after his earlier ministrations between my legs that I knew it would only be a matter of seconds before my orgasm washed over me. I fought the urge to screw my eyes shut, because I wanted nothing more than to see Clay's face in the moment that I came.

  His, by contrast, were screwed closed as he basked in the pleasure that had been so long denied to him. I could feel his cock throbbing inside me, the thick, pulsating veins rubbing against the sensitive walls on the inside of my pussy and contributing to the sparks that were exploding within me.

  "I'm close, Clay," I groaned. I needed him to know how close I was – I wanted him to come with me. He didn't say anything back, but I felt him pick up the pace of his thrusts, and make them both longer and deeper. I knew he'd do everything in his power to come with me.

  If this was any other day, and if he'd not been holding it in through the whole of the last three months, there was absolutely no way he'd have been ready to unload inside me. As it was, Clay was on a hair trigger, and he was ready to blow.

  He grunted, his breath becoming ragged, and I knew he was there. I clenched my pussy, feeling the muscles between my thighs grab his cock and refuse to let go. Clay groaned and dug his fingernails into the soft flesh on my thighs. I felt the heat bloom inside me, so much heat I could scarcely fathom it. There was more cum flooding into me than I'd have believed possible, and that was exactly what sent me over the edge.

  "Yes, Clay, don't stop," I said. He didn't, just kept thrusting throughout his orgasm, and I came hard. I saw stars in the blackness behind my eyelids and felt an overwhelming, unbelievable closeness to the man buried between my legs. I jerked and moaned as shocks of desire crashed through my entire body for what seemed like minutes after, and I suddenly noticed, with surprise, that my eyes had somehow closed.

  I opened them and stared back up at my lover. "How long have you been holding that in?" I asked cheekily.

  "You have no idea," he said, panting. "But I promise, I'll be better for round two.”

  I didn't know if that was possible, but I knew I wanted to find out…

  Epilogue - Clay

  It was funny, I mused, bouncing baby Sarah on my knee, how times changed – and how people changed, too.

  Two years ago, if you'd told me that I'd have knocked up a girl and she'd have not just one kid for me to pay for, but two, I'd have been beyond angry. I'd have assumed that the girl was only after my money, and I'd have had my lawyers fight them every inch of the way through the courts. But for Mike Junior – damn, Mike Senior had been proud when I told him we were naming my kid after him – and Sarah, nothing was too much. I'd have given the world, if I could – and I hadn't entirely ruled out whether that was or wasn't possible…

  "Say daddy," I said, beaming down at Sarah. She had my sister's eyes – that same ice blue stare that always told me I was in trouble, but her mother's tanned skin. I was under no illusions – she was going to be a knockout when she grew up. I was going to have to stay in shape just to fight the boys off her.

  "Come on, Clay," Alicia said, entering the room with a stack of papers under one arm. "She's three months old – there's no way she can talk yet. And besides, when she does, you really think her first word's going to be daddy?" She grinned. "A thousand bucks says she says mommy…"

  "You're on." I smiled. It didn't matter, really – we shared every penny we had, and every penny we made, but it livened up the day. Even so, I decided to tease my beautiful wife. "You're becoming pretty comfortable around cash, aren't you?"

  Alicia flushed, looking embarrassed. "Hey! You're the one who started all this."

  I had, but that didn't mean I couldn't have a bit of fun with her from time to time. "Maybe." I grinned. "Maybe that's true. I suppose I can cut you some slack – after all, you're the reason we have it all in the first place…"

  I joked, but it was true. Liss had pulled me out of the spiral I'd been in before I met her, and we both knew that if she hadn't turned up, that spiral could only have ended in one place – with my early, and untimely, demise.

  "Hey, Clay," Liss called, checking over some figures or something on the paper in front of her. "Come over here. I've got something for you to sign."

  "Ah, seriously?" I replied, turning baby Sarah to face her mother and manipulating her face gently with my hands so that her little mouth was turned upside down in a frown. "Can't you let me play with Sarah for a little bit longer?"

  "Trust me, you're going to like this." Assuming it was just another bank statement, or statement from the label telling us exactly how rich we were, I begged to differ. At least, I did in my brain – I wasn't brave enough to stand up to my wife. That girl was as feisty as she was undoubtedly beautiful.

  "Okay, okay," I said, setting Sarah down to play with her brother. He was lying on his stomach, sleeping with a felt football in his hand. I knew without a doubt that he was going to be a pro footballer, right then and there. After all, with my genes and his mother's hard work, how could he be anything but?

  I walked over to the table and put on my glasses. Liss was right about those, too. They really did make life a hell of a lot easier.

  "What am I looking at?" I asked, kind of disinterestedly. I might have been making more of an effort with the business side of things over the past year or so, but that didn't mean that I enjoyed it… Far from it, in fact.

  "I thought," Liss said with a shy smile on her face, "that it was about time we got rid of this." She brandished a sheaf of papers that I vaguely recognized in front of my face.

  "What is it?"

  She handed it to me. "Look."

  "Is this what I think it is?" I asked, dumbfounded.

/>   Liss nodded happily, a broad smile breaking out on her face like a morning sunrise over the ocean. "I've been meaning to do it for a couple of months, but, you know – dealing with the kids and the tour, I've just been a bit rushed…" she finished apologetically.

  "You're apologizing to me?" I asked, stunned, looking back down at the legal contract in my hand. Everything beyond the three words Custody Agreement Revision paled into insignificance, because Liss was giving me the greatest gift that she could – the custody of my own children back.

  "Clay, I've known for a while now that you've changed. It didn't seem fair to keep you locked into this agreement like I didn't trust you."

  "You sure you want to do this?" I asked, still stunned. "Having that trust fund set up is kind of comforting, you know?" I wanted her desperately to say yes, but I knew I had to give her the opportunity not to.

  "Are you crazy, Clay?" She grinned, adopting a joking tone. "Don't you want custody?"

  I trusted my reply to actions rather than words, reached over and gathered my wife into a bear hug. "Of course I do," I growled. "More than you know."

  She looked up at me from her position ensconced in my arms with an inviting smile on her face. "Then sign the damn document, Clay."

  I didn't need asking twice. "Give me that pen," I said, beyond excited. Giving up my rights to my own child – back when I thought I was only having one – had been one of the hardest things I'd ever had to do, but I'd done it to ensure a future with Alicia. Now that Liss was giving it back to me, displaying absolutely no reservations about her choice, I felt like I was becoming whole again.

  The nib of the pen hovered over the page for a fraction of a second before I carefully inscribed my signature on the dotted line. I initialed the papers where I needed to, and then it was done. I looked up at Liss with a smile on my face.

  She'd given me something I didn't even know I needed.

  "Shall we go and play with our kids, Daddy?" She grinned.

  I nodded, struck dumb with joy. "Thank you, Liss," I whispered.

 

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