by Hammond, T.
“I wanted to be the man who breathed against the little hairs on your nape.” He matched actions to words, spilling a shiver down my spine and causing my nipples to pebble. “I wanted to be the man who felt your tongue glide over my flesh, lapping the salt and sweat from my skin. I wanted to be the lover who tempted your hands to discover bone and muscle.” His right hand slid down into the folds of my sex, finding me wet. His fingers lay passively on me, unmoving, but he thrust his groin against my back as if imagining himself moving inside me, slow and languorous.
David groaned into my neck, “I want you to come so hard in my arms you are mindless from it. I want to feel the bite of your nails in my back when an orgasm bows your body. And damn, I'm dying to know what's in your nightstand that you couldn't tell Cat about, for fear of corrupting her.” His laughter held a rawness and heat which balanced the embarrassment I felt at him knowing most of the contents of my toy drawer before our first date. “Because, let me assure you, I am ready and willing to be corrupted.”
I relaxed a little at his teasing, reaching over my shoulder to caress his face. Tenderness warred with desire as his sex-laden chuckle shivered its way from my breasts to my core. How can one man make me feel so weak and empowered at the same time? My nipples tightened, almost painfully, as my anticipation grew.
David nudged me forward so I fell partially over the bed, braced on my hands. “Don't move,” he ordered me, and proceeded to lavish open mouth kisses over my shoulders and back. His body held me in place while his left hand pinched my nipples, and rolled the tips into stiff peaks. His right hand slid deeper into my swollen folds, coating his fingertips with moisture. He lifted his right hand to his face and inhaled the fragrance of my sex; I heard him suck the juices from his fingers. He moaned, and tunneled his hand down between my thighs again, this time his fingers were agile and coaxing as he slid them back and forth over the damp flesh. Two fingers speared deeply inside me, judging my readiness by the flex of my hips and the dampness spilling over his hand.
“Please,” I pleaded.
“Oh, make no mistake,” he growled his promise in my ear. “I'll please you.” He added a third finger to his exploration, and his left hand ventured south to find and excite the button of my clitoris. I ground my pelvis against the bed, trapping his hand against me. My arms collapsed and I caught myself on my elbows.
David's chuckle was very male and self-satisfied as he slipped his right hand free and fisted his erection. Holding me bent forward, by curling his body over mine, he ran the tip of his penis over my aching juncture to coat it in wetness. Slipping between my thighs, he began a tortuously slow, measured thrust, stealing my breath and knotting my body into a single sensitized nerve. My breath caught and held. The pleasure-pain of his thick cock stretching me open to accept the fullness of him, arched my spine with the intensity of the waiting. Waiting for him to be completely buried inside me. Waiting for him to begin deep pumping thrusts. Waiting for him to help ease the ache that made my pussy muscles clench. And, waiting for him to fulfill his promise, I'll please you.
“Breathe, Lover,” he whispered.
“David,” I whimper-begged, pushing back against him to hurry his penetration. I had never known need until this very moment. My body pulsed with lust for him.
“Shhh,” he groaned. “Patience.”
With a final surge, he was fully seated inside me. “Oh, Lover,” he sighed into my neck, "you're a snug fit. Absolutely perfect.” I could feel my vaginal walls clamping around him as I teetered on the edge of orgasm. I tried again to move against him, needing to feel the push and pull of him driving deeply. David continued to use his body weight to prevent me moving more than an inch or two, never enough room to force him to increase the pace.
David pulled away in a deliberate, lazy withdrawal. Finally, I thought, bracing myself for a deep, hard thrust. Instead, he filled me slowly with a rocking swivel of his hips.
His body moved in mine with a sensual undulating roll that teased me into a state of intense tremors. I was reminded of Janey’s comment about whether his hip-gliding stride hinted at his technique in the bedroom. Gawd, did she ever call this one correctly! He built the tension in my body slowly; rigidly controlling my movements as he held me still under his measured strokes.
His thrusting movements, and body weight, ground my clit against the flat of his fingers, still trapped against the edge of the bed by my hips. The shaking in my muscles increased and I could feel my body on the very edge of coming. It was the strongest build-up to an orgasm I had ever experienced. So close, yet out of reach.
“Can you feel it?” David's voice was like gravel in my ear. I could feel the strain of his control. Control which sent a spear of pleasure through me, compressing my pussy around his shaft.
“Please, David,” I begged. Agonizingly measured press in.
“You're so close,” he promised, his voice a hoarse whisper. Torturously long pull out.
In. My breath released in a moan.
“Any second now, you're going to shatter.” Out.
His voice dropped lower to almost a purr, as he slowly, deeply thrust forward. “I'll get to feel your muscles clamp down on me harder than they already are.”
Slow slide out. “And, after you come?”
Smooth glide in. “While your body is still trembling with release?”
Long draw out—only the thick, mushroomed tip of him held inside me. “I'm going to pull my cock out of you, and bury my face between your thighs, to lick and suck every drop of cream spilling from your body.”
Hard, deep push in.
I screamed with release as his words pushed me over a gush of pleasure more intense than anything I could have imagined. The whole time I spasmed, David stopped his thrusts to simply hold himself hard and tight against me, reveling in the clench of muscle and the ripple of sensitized nerve endings. My whole body flexed and shivered as I alternately rode, and ground myself against, the cock buried deeply inside me.
Weakly, I protested as he slipped, still hard and firm, from my body. He picked me up and lifted me onto the bed, then turned me onto my back with my legs hanging over the side while he knelt between them. The shock of his tongue thrusting deep, mouth sucking hard, brought me to a second climax within minutes.
Apparently, even David had a breaking point; as soon as the last of my tremors calmed, he stood and grabbed my legs to hold me steady for a fast, hard drive of his hips that plunged him balls deep. Repeatedly. This was no lazy tease, he was almost frantic in his pace as he braced on elbows over my body, his face buried in my neck. I raked my hands into his hair. “Come for me, David,” I coaxed, scoring nails lightly down his back and biting into the bicep against my cheek.
With a throaty groan, he stiffened and held himself still while he climaxed deeply inside me.
****************
His breath was spiced with my arousal as he leaned forward to fuse his mouth to mine in a fiery kiss. “I told you those stockings were hot,” he joked a moment later, lifting more of his weight off my chest.
The satisfaction in his voice changed to wonder when he shuddered a little and his cock flexed. “Oh man,” he said, with a lazy roll of his hips. “I think I can totally do this again.” Without ever slipping from my body, David was fully erect again a few minutes later. His voice held amazement when he told me he hadn't done that since he was a teenager. “Youth and hormones are wasted on the young,” he said with sincerity.
David showered me with kisses, nibbles, and hot flicks of his tongue: face, neck, shoulders, breasts – whatever he could reach, as he started moving in me in a steady, pounding rhythm which built my arousal to a painful intensity. My clawed hands dug into the sheets, fisting them into little balls as I tried to anchor myself in the storm of physical sensation. I cried out in surprise when he dipped his head low and tugged at my nipples with sharp teeth. On its own volition, my back arched toward his mouth. He pulled almost completely out of me in a lazy gliding motion of
his hips, and slid back smoothly, filling me completely.
Changing the tempo again, making me strain my whole body upward to meet his push, he slid his large right hand down to splay over my ass, the tip of his middle finger brushing my anus with every undulation of his hips. I imagined he was above me balanced on one arm. His strength was impressive, for I'm no featherweight. His hand held us groin to groin, his hips shifting only enough in his tight grasp to rub my clit in small circles against his pelvic bone while he was seated in me so deeply. It was all I needed being still over-sensitive from two earth-shattering orgasms.
“Fall with me,” he moaned. I felt the first spasms jerk him, before I gladly followed him over the edge.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The next morning, I woke him with kisses, thousands of them, starting at the nape of his neck and teasing over the bulk of his shoulders. His back was massive, not over developed, but large-boned, covered in thick ropes of muscle, tapering to a narrow waist, and the tempting rise of a finely crafted ass. I spread my fingers wide over his shoulders to touch as much surface as possible, bending over him to taste the ridge of his spine. When I reached the rise of his butt, I dragged my tongue firmly back up his spine, stopping in my upward travels to nip with light, teasing bites, until I bit deeper into his shoulder, holding meaty muscle firmly in my teeth. He moaned and flexed his hips into the mattress.
Releasing my grip, I traced the little indentations I'd left on his skin with the tip of my tongue. They were not deep and would probably fade within the hour. I murmured in his ear, “Flip over.”
I seduced him with touches, another thousand of them, starting at his forehead, feathering his eyelids, and trailing slowly across his cheeks to his lips. I fused my mouth to his, drinking up the passion of him as he opened to me and swept his tongue against my own. His arms reached up to pull my kneeling body down to his, but I grasped his wrists and pinned them against the bed at his sides.
“My turn,” I breathed into his mouth. “I want to take my pleasure in yours now. Lay back and enjoy the ride.”
Leaning forward, I placed a string of kisses along his neck, then retraced the path with my tongue—he tasted of salt and clean sweat. I inhaled deeply to savor the scent of his skin, still holding the trace of soap from our shared shower a few hours ago. When I reached the crook of his neck, where it curved into his shoulder, I gathered the skin into my teeth and pulled softly. The position brushed my nipples over his chest and he arched into me, crushing my breasts more firmly into him.
“Cheater,” I scolded, pressing him flat to the bed again, licking my way across the taut muscles of his pecs, alternating hands, lips, and teeth as I explored the width between his shoulders. His muscles were hard under the warmth of his skin, and I loved tangling my fingers in the hint of hair dusted over his chest. It was difficult to resist the immediate urge to follow the soft hedge to where it grew denser at the groin.
I teased my fingertips around his nipples, smiling at the way they drew tight and stiff as I scored them with feather light nails. Since his wrists were free again, David cupped my breasts in his hands and started to mirror my actions. He plucked at the tips of my nipples, still so sensitive from his attentions last night. I pressed the curve of one more fully into his palm.
“Cheater,” he echoed, with a smile in his tone.
Smiling in pleasure, I traced my nails down toward his abdomen, bathing the taut, defined muscles with firm licks of my tongue. I shifted my attention to the rise of a hip, into the hollow at his groin, smelling the musk of a healthy male mixed with the faint scent of my sex, probably a result of him nestled, half-hard between my thighs all night. I patted the inside of a leg to indicate I wanted him to spread wide. Ever accommodating, David shifted to make room for me to kneel between his knees.
It was easy to imagine his body stretched out in front of me, muscled arms laying inertly at his sides; strong, heavily corded legs bracketing me; erection long and thick curving up toward his belly. The mental picture inspired me to stroke my hands from his face to knees, learning the details of his features, the textures of his skin, the sensitivity of his flesh, and the pulse of his heart.
I stroked fingers up the length of his inner thighs to cup his balls and the base of his impressive erection. My exhalation of hot breath across the head of his cock caused him to jerk in my hand. Lifting his balls, I rasped my tongue over one, and then the other. I could feel them pull tight in the curl of my fingers. As I licked my way toward the head of him, I found weeping drops of pre-come. Slick. Salty.
“Did I ever tell you I started to fall in love with you when you pressed me against the door of Janey's car and kissed me senseless?” I opened my mouth over the crest and sucked him as deeply into my throat as I could. Thankfully, with a hand grasped firmly at his base, I was saved from gagging when he groaned raggedly and thrust upward.
“Oh damn, sorry,” he apologized, immediately. “I just...” his voice trailed off as I rose up and plunged my mouth down on him again. He held the next reflexive thrust in check, but barely, his whole body shuddered with the effort of laying passive beneath me. Knowing the effort required to maintain his control was intoxicating. I started to move my mouth and fist together, griping tightly while trying to maintain a consistent suction. My hand slid up between his widespread thighs to cup his balls, and rub the perfect, soft skin of his scrotum between my fingertips.
“Oh geez, Teresa,” David gasped, body rigid and trembling. “Careful, I...” he thrust up and spurted warm jets of cum down my throat. “Oh, god!” he groaned unevenly, as I swallowed and milked the length of him until he started to soften in my mouth.
David's breathing was labored as he dragged lungfuls of air into his chest. His hands reached down to drag me up the length of his body until my face hovered over his. “You missed some,” he teased, licking the corner of my lips. Drawing me closer, sucking my tongue into his mouth, he fused us together in a kiss of such intensity and heat my body melted into the contours of his.
“You have no idea how erotic it is to feel you suck me down your throat. I love knowing my cum coats your mouth, salty with a bitter edge to it.” His next kiss was no less passionate, but more languid. Unhurried.
“I'm surprised you were interested in tasting yourself on me,” I confessed. “Don't get me wrong, I think it’s hot. I love the idea of a man who doesn't have boundaries in his bed.”
“Our bed, Lover,” he corrected. “I will confess to you now, I don't have any real limitations between us in the bedroom. It’s a short list: no blood, no body wastes, and no means no. You have no hang-ups about me kissing you with the flavor of your cream on my lips, why would I not be willing to taste myself on yours?”
“Damn, you're sexy,” I grinned. “We are in agreement about boundaries, although I admit I'm a little embarrassed to have you state it so nonchalantly. I like that you’re forthright in what you want, and you're blunt. I understand blunt. What are your views on teeth and nails? I know you overheard me at Janey's, but I would like to be sure I know where you draw the line.”
“I almost came when you sunk your teeth in my back. What you did earlier was incredible; not too hard, and not deep enough to hurt. I don't want to be scratched so deeply it creates welts which last for days, but I still want to feel them scrape over my skin. Digging into muscle like my ass or shoulder should be okay, as I doubt your nails could dig in more than I'm willing to enjoy.” He lifted his face to kiss me lightly. “If we get too intense with each other and you accidentally scratch too deep, that's okay. Sometimes you may lose control, and I'll consider it a compliment.”
“Fair enough,” I replied, “and you need to remember if you get lost in the moment and thrust too deep in my mouth, or bruise me with your fingers, I'll consider it a compliment, as well. Don't sweat the accidents, okay?”
“Agreed,” he said.
David's head turned toward the edge of the bed, “Hey, Red. What's up pal?”
“Are you
guys ever planning to get out of bed?
I repeated Red's question out loud. David lifted his head, presumably to check the clock on the nightstand. “It’s only six a.m. Red,” he complained.
“But you've been awake for hours and hours,” he exaggerated.
I repeated this to David, explaining a dog's inaccurate concept of time.
Before either of us could frame a reply, Red chimed in with, “It’s not like all this mating will do you any good, Teresa. You're not in heat right now.”
I was laughing hysterically as I translated Red's latest comment. Amused, I said, “People are not like dogs when it comes to mating. We like to have sex because it feels good and it’s a way for us to show affection to each other.” I refused to get into a long discussion with my dog regarding the nuances of sex and relationships.
Heavy mental dog sigh. “Well are you done yet so we can play ball?” I felt the weight of his head plop down on the edge of the bed.
To David I asked, “Is he giving us his pitiful puppy eyes? He wants to play ball.”