I Love It: 10 Intense Stories to Keep the Passion Alive (Shameless Book Bundles 6)
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The moment we shared as he smiled at me after the toast was so sweet, but greater still was watching him prepare that meal so expertly. The twists of his powerful wrists, the intricate, practiced motions of a man who was used to cooking. The hours passed so easily, chit-chatting all throughout as he prepared me what was quite likely the finest meal of my life.
Right there in front of the city scape, he set it all out, with candles and all, succulent chicken, lightly-sweetened veggies, and a delightful sauce over them both I couldn’t quite place with all the champagne that was flowing.
“It’s been too long since I had someone to cook for,” he said with a satisfied smile as we sat and ate. The soft music in the background not a distraction, but merely adding to the atmosphere. “Thanks so much for joining me Cassidy,” he said, reaching his free hand across the small table-for-two to touch my hand again.
I brushed my thumb along the webbing of his hand.
I never believed in love at first sight. That was the stuff of fairy tales and myths.
But surely there was such thing as love on the first date? Love at the first night?
It was already so late, much later than I’d normally even consider eating, but the food was delicious and the champagne gorgeous, so I could do nothing else but enjoy.
“This has been a dream,” I said, and I knew that was the alcohol talking.
The meal was finished, and he squeezed my hand in his. Rising up from the table, he helped me to my feet, keeping me steady despite the wobbliness that came with too much alcohol.
“Want to head out onto the balcony for a moment, enjoy the city?” he asked, reaching up with his free hand to brush back my bangs and admire my beauty. I could see it as clear as day, he looked nearly as smitten with me as I was with him. His hard gaze soaking in every little aspect of me, and unlike with other men, I didn’t feel self-conscious. Never felt like I was being eyed as a piece of meat, no. Only appreciated for who and what I was.
I’d been there for so many hours, and never had he tried to so much as kiss me. Just the sweet, soft brush of his skin against mine, and it had built something within me, made something flutter in my heart that I didn’t figure was even there any longer.
My lips twitched as I nodded at him, loving the way his hand fit against my jaw, and my lips parted gently.
“I’d love that.”
My acceptance brought such joy to him, and he led me to the balcony door. As soon as it opened, the cool night air sent a chill through me, but after the warmth of his apartment and a lovely, hot meal, it was refreshing in a way. Helped cool the glow of my cheeks.
He took me out there, looking down upon the glorious lights of our city, the cityscape such a raw beauty. He noticed me shiver, and his thick arm came around me, holding my body to his hard, muscular form.
“We can go right back in,” he said to me with a smile, just looking so pleased to be with me. Near me. Those full lips of his so close, I felt compelled to lean in and kiss them…
I’d never been the initiator in relationships. I’d always taken on a more cautious role, but it all felt so right as I pushed myself up onto my tip toes and moved to press my lips to his. I hesitated though. As I said, I was never the initiator. Never. But lucky for me, Chase took over where I tripped once again.
His lips pressed to mine, closing the final gap between us, and suddenly the chill of the air was gone as our mouths became like an inferno. His tongue slid past my lips and into my mouth.
Sparks flew in my mind, and I didn’t know what I was doing, but I didn’t care. It all felt so right.
Those strong hands of his roamed over my arms, rubbed at my flesh and brought even more warmth to my body.
I was still in my business suit, that A-line skirt clinging to my thighs, the white blouse tucked in, but his touch made me feel like I was in the most stunning dress around. He had a way about him that just took me out of myself, out of my own discomfort, and my own skin, and made me feel appreciated.
That’s a hard thing to find in a man, I know, so my hands went to his arms so that I could get the most of him as possible.
I didn’t believe in love at first sight, and first date kisses were meant to be chaste, but this was nothing like that. It was hot, burning passion; passion I didn’t know I could ever feel.
Here I was with a big, stunningly handsome man, who was successful, strong and caring, and despite only having met him hours before, I was smitten, and he was taken with me. Perhaps part of it was the champagne, but I couldn’t blame it all. Perhaps part of it was the loneliness and isolation we both felt. But that wasn’t all of it either.
There was an animal attraction between us, some primal thing about the core of our two beings, or some spiritual soul mate deal. Whatever it was, we were caught up in it, surrendered ourselves to it!
He kissed me deeply, passionately, and amid the cold winds of his penthouse apartment, he made me feel hot and secure. He pressed my relatively dainty form against his hard body and sheltered me from the wind as our tongues fenced, our lips smacked.
I always felt you could really know someone by their kiss, but with him, it felt like he knew me. Just the way I liked it, the right pressure, the right intensity.
I moaned against his tongue, and couldn’t hide how aroused I was by his affectionate, skillful touches. Soul mate definitely felt like the word to use, and I held my body to his, wanting to feel him over every bit of my clothed form.
And he did. In time.
Which he never rushed. We kissed upon that balcony for what must have been at least half an hour, him shielding me from the elements as we made out. My lips were finally puffy and raw when he felt part of my bare leg beneath my skirt and noticed the chill there that even I was unaware of.
“Lemme take you back inside,” he said and, without waiting, he lifted me up into his strong arms as if the whole of my body were nothing, and he carried me inside, back to the warmth and comfort of his lavish apartment.
The door slid shut behind us automatically, and he carried me on over to the couch by the electric fireplace, laying me out like I was a princess he rescued from some dragon. A frost dragon. Chivalry didn’t stop him from stealing another kiss from my lips though.
“Maybe I should escort you home,” he said, concern edging in on the lust. For as much as he wanted me then and I could feel it, he wanted to be a good man with me. The subsequent kiss after that suggested it was a battle that was far from over, however, and lust for me might still win out above reason.
I’d never slept with a man on the first date. I was a bit of a prude, admittedly.
But when he kissed me, it didn’t feel wrong. It didn’t feel like I had to wait for anything, any reason. No social judgement, no fear or apprehension. I just knew it was time. Not just lust, but spiritually as well.
My hand went to his neck, my chilly fingers rubbing over his flesh as I glanced towards the window.
“It’s very late.”
He hesitated, but then a certain determination came over him and he scooped me back up off the couch, standing once more with me in his arms like his own little girl rather than the full grown woman that I was. He swept me away, and for a moment I thought he’d take me outside and call me a cab.
Instead, he carried me into his bedroom. The expansive room with its king sized bed, a bookshelf of old, worn titles, and such rich sheets and blankets. He laid me out upon them, and then his hands went to his shirt, tugging it out of the waist of his pants and undoing the buttons.
I laid there, watching as he revealed the hard bulge of his abs, so chiselled and stony, rising up and up, showing more until his pecs were in view and then the garment was gone, shrugged back off his broad, powerful shoulders.
He was an Adonis of a man, and I licked over my lips. That was definitely the alcohol in me, because I just couldn’t even feign that I wasn’t absolutely enraptured by his body. He’d won me over with his conversation, his tender touches, but the reward was beyond compare.
Off came his belt, but he didn’t remove his pants, not yet. He got onto the bed, rubbed his strong hands over my exposed thighs, warming them in his strong grasp as he leaned over me and kissed me again, our lips never tiring despite the soreness. He felt up my body to my breasts, then on back down.
Those hard muscles of his were exposed and begging for me to touch them, and I couldn’t resist. I had to feel them, the hard bulges, the deep valleys between. It was unlike any other man I’d ever been with.
But most of all, it was just because I wanted to feel that connection between us. The constantly shifting and growing passion that was shared, invisible in the air, fluttering on our every breath as we battled our tongues against one another.
My hand ran along his bicep, tracing the flesh, the veins that bulged beneath, my manicured nail gently scraping along it.
His own hands, so much bigger than my own, wrapped about my breasts, his fingers sinking in as he kneaded them gently. It was but a brief feel of that pillowy yet supple flesh, but it felt so good coming from him. Then those marvellously strong hands were off, down to my thighs, over my thigh-high stockings, then up in under my skirt. He curled his digits along my hips, tugged down my panties so that they slipped away from my cunny and left me bare and exposed beneath that flimsy skirt.
He arranged and handled me with such care, tugging my panties down off my feet before he slid his touch back up my inner thighs, our lips smacking continuously as he then moved on to unbutton my shirt.
A low rumble emerged from his chest, and upon his lips was my name. And I’d never heard it said before so lovingly.
I was awash in sensations and emotions, my body crying out for him, and yet always finding some satiation and peace in his motions. It was a strange feeling, to want more and feel contented, all at once.
My arms wrapped around his neck loosely as his fingers opened my simple white blouse to spot the nude bra beneath. It felt embarrassing to be so plainly dressed, not at all like a proper date night lingerie set, but he accepted it all as his fingers traced along my stomach.
“You’re absolutely gorgeous,” he said in that deep, husky voice of his that sounded so sincere. He was taken with me, this gorgeous, hunk of a man who had it all, was truly smitten with me. And he savoured the feel of my skin, up across my stomach and over the cup of my bra until he was curling his fingers into my breasts to squeeze at them.
He moved his hands in and found the clasp between the two mounds, undid it and freed my tits, exposing them and the stiff nipples to his hungry hands as he kissed me over and over again.
I was in heaven as he took one of those pink nubs between his fingers, squeezing them firmly and making my toes curl with glee.
My tongue lanced against his, tasting the champagne and my own mouth as I writhed beneath him. I wanted him, to feel him all over, and my hands roamed over his shoulders, down to his arms, along his hands and then over his hips.
He was so hard, so firm beneath that heated flesh, and I delighted in feeling him out.
He gave such a deep, rumbling moan of pleasure as his long, powerful fingers kneaded my breast flesh and teased my sensitive pink areolas. He worked that supple flesh so masterfully all as he appreciated the feel of my flesh, the smooth skin, the dainty peaks.
It was too soon to be throwing around words like soul mate, but I didn’t even care. With how he touched me, the real emotions I felt within them, I knew he was bound to me in some way.
He only released my breasts after enjoying them for a long time, undoing and shedding his pants to show the immense bulge of his manhood beneath. The size of which dwarfed all others I’d ever countered, and it bulged, it throbbed… for me.
I bit down on my lower lip, equal parts shy and aroused, and before I could control them, my legs began to spread and I thrust my hips towards him slightly.
Maybe I should have been more cautious, truly. Because once he tugged down his boxer-briefs and that thick, meaty girth of his fell out… I was intimidated. Oh, not only was big, but his cock was singularly stunning. So perfectly shaped and symmetrical, with a beautiful curve upwards, and at the very top a glistening, purple crown that peaked out, bulging and rigid while two heavy balls dangled beneath.
He got in between my thighs, spread them wider still as he fondled my breast with one hand, hoisted my leg with the other and kissed my lips so wantonly.
My hand went to his jaw, holding him there, kissing him as my other arm snaked between us. I’ll admit, I wanted to touch it. To see what his perfect cock felt like in my hand. I wrapped my fingers around it and it was exquisite the way it throbbed, pulsed with life.
I stroked it gently, teasing and testing more than anything, but in truth, I could barely breathe my heart was racing so fast.
It was so hot, and harder than flesh had any right to be. It felt like holding warm steel, except for the pulsations of desire that coursed through it and bulged my fingers out.
He got down, and that raw, ravenous cock of his was aching for me. I could feel its want, its need, through my soft fingers. I could feel every vein, every pulse, and intimately I knew how badly Chase wanted me. How badly such a virile man as him needed to be inside me.
He pushed his hips forward, and with my hand about his cock I could have easily diverted him from my bare, unprotected cunny. Could have easily drew it all to a halt even as our lips were enmeshed and distracted.
I knew, even without that, he’d have respected anything, even in the heat of the moment. I could detect those little, quiet ways of asking for permission, to see if everything was alright, and I brought the crown to my wet sex, rubbing it along my seam.
Chase gave a low, audible moan at the touch of my glossy, wet sex against the crown of his manhood, and he savoured that moment like we’d savoured all the rest together. Nothing about what we did was rushed, even in the passion of the moment… until he entered me.
The slow, meticulous care of the evening was lost as his thick, hard cock pierced me. Its thick girth spreading me open wide and stretching my cunny taut about his manhood. He moaned loud and lewdly, but nothing kept him in check then, he held onto my hip, my breast, and he began to pump, filling me with the raw heft of his dick so wonderfully.
He set a delicious tempo, and once more it was as if it were all for me. That magnificent cock filling me up, his chest pressed against mine.
My legs lifted, the stockinged calves pressing into his ass as my head tilted back and I let out a moan of approval.
“Chase,” I gasped, his name even tasting sweet upon my lips.
In return he called out my name, that thick bed of his surrounding me like heaven as he slowly built up speed and pounded me into it. Again and again his thick shaft plunged down, and it was a stunning sight to behold, one I never could forget. To see my cunny lips wrapped around his circumference, clinging to him as he pulled back, suctioning him back into me before he could even thrust forward.
His deep, lusty moans were punctuated by the slap of his heavy, cum-laden balls against my ass, and together we made such beautiful music in his bedroom.
I lost track of time then, as our bodies glistened and writhed against one another. We sought to erase our loneliness, to celebrate feeling truly human for the first time in— I couldn’t know how long. It was an experience, every last second of it, that left me wholly changed.
Even as he thrust into me, I could see the shifts in my perspective and the way I saw the world, saw sex. No, it wasn’t sex. Nothing so crass. It was passionate and filled with tenderness, and I could only say that we made love into the darkest parts of the night and clung to one another with tenacity.
The moment when his climax approached, I got to see the tension throughout his body, the way his muscles clenched, his stomach undulated. He moaned aloud, and long before it came… I knew he wou
ld. Right inside me.
Fucking a man I just met, without an ounce of protection was perhaps bad enough, but the bond we felt seemed too real to deny. And he shared it with me fully, ready to do what two strangers ought not to, and blow his virile load right into my fertile depths.
Instead of shrinking away, I clung to him, holding onto him with my arms, my legs, my parted flower. Every bit of me hugged him as he came, and my own body tensed. He ground against me, his hips rubbing my clit as that gentle curve of his cock stroked my g-spot, and I couldn’t help that I was cumming too on his spent member.
The thick pulses of his cock as he unloaded such long, copious streams of his seed felt like heaven, and I moaned and squealed the whole while, savouring each pump of his rigid cock as we rutted, mated. The two of us strangers just hours before, but now breeding like there were no others in the world.
He clung to me and I to him, his girth spurting all of his essence into me as we both crested upon the waves of pleasure together until we came back down.
It wasn’t even the first time that night. Our two bodies locked together, again and again, the grinding, the fondling, the kissing… it all dragged on until the sun rose once more, and bathed his room in its light.
Never had I gone on like that with a man, only once had I even gone consecutively before. But with Chase and I… the whole night was our act of love, and on into the morning. The golden glimmer of sunrise as he slowly bent his body to mine, wringing a final, earth shattering climax from us both once more as we were sweaty and exhausted.
It was something so much more than I ever dreamed I could find with someone, and even with how tired I was, I could only bask in the afterglow of our love.
~~
Meeting a stranger and having sex with him that very night never ends out well, right?
Well wrong. At least in this one, rare case.
As I sit here in our now shared apartment, cradling the swollen belly that contained our child, I had nothing but fondness to think back on.
After that first night, Chase had been nothing but a gentleman. He’d taken me on dates, as if our initial indiscretion had never happened. He treated me like the finest of ladies, and now here I was… relaxing upon our couch. Enjoying the big apartment, but lamenting the quiet.