He tucks my panties into the back pocket of his jeans and snags a condom out of the other pocket. Then he kicks off his sandals, pushes the jeans and his plain white briefs down his legs and steps out of them.
I’ve never dropped to my knees in front of a man before, but I do it now. His musky scent surrounds me and makes my mouth water. When I reach out and take him in my hand, Wes sucks in a ragged breath. He shudders as I stroke the hot velvet skin that covers his hard cock. Veins stand out along the rigid length and the round head has already been moistened by a few drops of pre-come. I dart my tongue out to lick the liquid from the tip. His groan sounds as if it comes from deep within him.
Wes grasps my head, as if he’s afraid I’m only going to tease him with my tongue. He doesn’t have to worry. I’m not going anywhere. I part my lips and guide him into my mouth with my hand.
He eases past my lips, gently at first. His taste is salty on my tongue. The texture of his skin is as soft as silk, yet the shaft is as hard as iron. He slides all the way in until he bumps against the back of my throat. I quickly get used to the feel of him in my mouth, the space he takes, the way he rubs against my tongue.
I begin to rock back and forth on my heels, and my earrings jangle and swing against my neck. I slide my wet lips along his hard length, taking him in as far as I can. The strangled sounds he makes let me know he likes it when I take him deep. The entire length won’t fit into my mouth, so I encircle the base of his cock with my hand and stroke him with a firm grip.
I like the way his fingers curl into my hair, the way his moan sounds all shaky. The thrusts past my lips become more frantic, less controlled. I like knowing I’m doing that to him.
“Oh, God, Lydia,” he moans. His grip tightens on my hair and he stops thrusting, leaving his cock buried between my lips, lying heavy on my tongue. “Look up at me.”
With his cock deep in my mouth and his hands tangled in my hair, I can’t move my head. So I raise my eyes the best that I can. My gaze sweeps up over his flat stomach and bare chest, with their light dusting of hair. I notice his tight little nipples and wonder how they would feel in my mouth. Lifting my eyes a little farther, I finally see him gazing down at me.
“I can’t stop looking at you,” he says, breathless. “Your beautiful wide eyes. Your crazy hair dancing around your head. Your dark red lips all wet and shiny and stretched wide around me.” He groans and starts thrusting again, riding my tongue. When he plunges deeper than before, I grab onto his hips with both hands to steady myself and open as wide as I can.
Then he suddenly groans and pulls away. My mouth feels empty. “Not yet,” he gasps. “I’m not ready to go yet.”
“Good.” I’m not ready for this to be over yet, either. “I want to feel you inside me.”
Wes takes my hand and tugs me to my feet. I stumble to gain my balance on the high heels and he grasps my upper arms to steady me, his grip strong.
“Thanks,” I whisper. I lean up against him, brushing my sensitive nipples across his chest. His heavy cock rubs against my stomach. I sweep my hands over his chest, savoring the feel of his warm skin beneath my palms. His tight nipples scrape against my fingers and I lower my head to take one of those hard, little beads into my mouth. I roll my tongue around the hot, pebbled nipple then, as he gasps, I suck hard on it, thrilled at the way his hands grip my shoulders. I give equal attention to the other nipple before he gently pushes me away.
“I need to see you better,” he says. He surprises me by putting his hands on either side of my waist and lifting me effortlessly up onto the stool that still stands in the middle of the floor.
My laugh is a little breathless. “So, I guess you really use those weights I see over there.” I grasp onto the edge of the seat on either side of my hips and prop my feet up on the rungs. My legs are spread apart in that position and while I know I should feel a little self-conscious about it, I can’t find it in me to be embarrassed. I’m willing to give him everything he wants because he’s given me so much already.
He barely looks over his shoulder to acknowledge the weight machine in clear view across the way. He brushes my hair away from my face and lightly kisses my lips. “You are beautiful.”
I squirm uneasily. “Watch out. If you keep saying that, I might start to believe it.” The last thing I want to do is blush all over.
“You should believe it.” He sweeps his hands across my breasts, awakening the nerve endings beneath the skin. “Don’t you ever look at yourself?”
“Every day,” I reply wryly.
“But do you see these bright green eyes with the long lashes when you look in the mirror? This straight nose that curves up just a bit at the end? And these wide, lush lips? Incredible.” He lightly rains kisses over my face. His gentleness is unexpected. Isn’t he hurting? Isn’t he horny? Why does he want to talk about me instead of acting on his arousal?
I shrug, uncomfortable with the direction this conversation is taking. “Don’t you want to fuck?”
Wes laughs—a sharp, quick bark. “Desperately. But I’m not done looking at you yet.” He pinches my nipples between his fingers and those sparks shoot through my body again. Then he cups my breasts in his hands. He doesn’t squeeze, just holds them, as if he’s weighing them. “Your breasts are perfect. Not too small and flat. Not too big and heavy.”
“I thought guys liked big boobs.”
“Not too big.” And without another word, he leans over and takes one sensitive nipple into his mouth. Talk about incredible.
My breath catches and I press into him, gripping the stool even tighter. My pussy twitches as sharp prickles cascade through my body. He rolls his tongue around my nipple, and I can’t stop the moan that slips from my lips. Then he sucks so hard it hurts and I gasp.
“Suck harder,” I cry, surprising myself. He does, and before it becomes unbearable, he switches to the other nipple and begins the delicious torture all over again. I close my eyes and savor the wild sensations swimming through my system. I have to rock my hips against the hard stool to try to relieve some of the pressure building between my legs.
Too soon, he lets go of my nipple, straightens and takes a step back. He begins to look me over again. “Do you ever notice how slender and shapely your arms and legs are? Your dancing keeps you in shape, doesn’t it?”
“I guess it does. Can we fuck yet?”
He has the most delicious grin. “Soon.” He takes a step closer to me again. I shiver from the intense expression on his face. “There’s another part of you I want to see a little better first.” He sinks down onto his knees in front of me. My pussy quivers in eagerness, but he sits back on his heels and just looks.
Now who’s teasing? I shift on the seat again to try to scratch the itch between my legs.
“So pretty,” he says. “Pink and plump and shiny wet.”
“You talk a lot,” I grumble.
He just looks up at me. “You’re an amazing sight, Lydia, perched on that stool. Your hair gleams under the ceiling light. Your eyes sparkle. Do you always nibble on your lower lip like that?”
I shrug, not realizing I ever did that. I restlessly lick my lips and wonder why he doesn’t just shut up and get on with it. My body is starting to itch all over. Then, as he begins to describe my firm, pale breasts and nipples like little luscious berries and soft, smooth skin and on and on, I finally get it. Wes is doing this for me. He’s telling me all the little things he’s noticed about me, showing me that he’s looking at me, really seeing me.
I melt a little bit.
“Are you done yet?” I mean to sound a little cranky, but there’s a softness to my voice I don’t expect.
But he won’t be rushed. Wes rubs his face lightly against my inner thigh and I feel the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow. Our ragged breathing sounds louder and I realize the CD has ended. He runs one finger lightly along my inner lips, a mere tickle that sends wild sensations exploding through my body.
I shift my gaze from his s
hiny brown hair and look out through my open patio door. What would someone think, if they did look out and see me exposed like this, nude and on a pedestal, a naked man at my feet?
Actually that doesn’t sound so bad.
At that moment, he leans into me and runs his tongue the full length of my slit and I don’t care if anyone sees me as long as he keeps doing what he’s doing. Wes grabs onto my knees, pushing my thighs farther apart as he dives in. I cry out with the intense sensations he creates with his lips, his tongue, his teeth. I clutch the stool to keep from sliding off as I find myself pressing my pussy into his face. Silently begging for even more attention.
He obeys my wordless command, tugging at my sensitive flesh with his teeth, nibbling with his lips, licking and sucking and quickly driving me to the edge.
And then he pulls away before I can tumble over. “No, don’t stop!” I cry out, but it’s too late. I groan and glare down at him. He looks up and grins again, this time his face is wet with my juices. “You’re cruel,” I whine. “I was so ready to come.”
Wes rises and helps me off the stool. “I thought we could take the trip together.”
“Oh.” I like the sound of that. And like even more the fact that he thought of it.
He pulls me close, rubbing his cock between my parted thighs. I gasp as it runs along my labia, tingling the swollen flesh. “I’m going to fuck you now.”
“Finally.” My voice sounds ragged.
He picks up his T-shirt off the floor and wipes his face, then grabs the condom packet from where he must have placed it on the bar.
“Here, let me,” I say after he rips open the condom packet. He hands me the latex and I drop to my knees again. His hot hard flesh brushes against my cheek and I take a moment to enjoy the sensation of the smooth, warm skin against my face. His cock is so beautiful it almost seems a shame to cover it up. I indulge in a few long, hard strokes on his velvet cock and then can’t resist taking him deep into my mouth for one sweet suck.
“Lydia,” he groans. I understand that desperate edge to his voice.
“Mmm.” I hum my understanding before I slowly slide my lips off his cock. Then I gradually roll the condom over his erection, inch by inch. I glance up to see his eyes close in obvious pleasure.
Wes grasps my shoulders and helps me to my feet. I start to turn to lead him into the bedroom, but stop before I take the first step. This is not a bedroom night. Not a pillow and mattress night. There is nothing ordinary about tonight.
Chapter Three
I take his hand and lead him to the open sliding glass door. He doesn’t hesitate as we step out onto the balcony.
“Hey, what’s this?” Wes leans over and reaches for my bra, which is still lying in the doorway. He holds it up and studies it, then looks at me with a grin. “I think I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to see this on you.”
I lift one brow and laugh. “Do you want me to put it on now?”
“No.” He tosses it into the apartment. “Maybe next time.”
That he even mentions a next time sends a tickle through my stomach. I’m not going to think about next time until we’ve had a this time.
“All the curtains are still closed,” I say as I step up to the railing. I can hear the traffic on the street beyond the building, people in cars and trucks rushing here and there with no idea of what is happening just a few feet away.
The air is still muggy with almost no breeze now to lift the moisture from my sweaty skin. The clouds drift lazily across the dark sky and a half-moon starts to peek out at us.
“Our neighbors don’t know what they’re missing.” Wes comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me, cupping both of my breasts with his hands. His body is hot and hard against my back. When he rolls my nipples between his fingers, sharp jolts of arousal once again burst through my body. I drop my head back onto his shoulder and run my tongue along the damp, salty skin on his neck.
He turns his head and catches my mouth with his, kissing me briefly, leaving me breathless. The light in the courtyard is dim, leaving us bathed in shadows. I push my ass back against him and his covered cock rides the crack between my cheeks. My legs tremble, my pussy aches. He groans, the sound loud in my ear. His body covers my back, pressing me into the waist-high railing. The metal is hard against my heated flesh.
“I couldn’t believe it when I saw you out here,” he says. “I’d just gotten home and the apartment was like an oven, so I went to crack open the door to see if there was a breeze.” His hands run wild over my breasts, tugging, squeezing. I lean back against him, breathing heavily. Sweat tickles as it rolls down my chest. I wish there was a breeze.
“I heard the music first,” he continues. “I looked out and I saw you dancing in the doorway. Then you burst onto the balcony like a goddess rising from the sea.” He rubs his cock hard against me, sliding himself along the cleft of my ass. “I almost came right then.”
Wes reaches one of his hands down between my legs and runs his fingers through the slippery folds. My hips rock against his hand, building the desire that’s scrambling along my skin. Greedy tremors of arousal run through my body, wanting more, needing more.
“Do you always put yourself out there like this, Lydia?”
“No.” My laugh bursts out, shaky and weak. I grab onto the railing and lean over, my stomach lurching as I stare at the cracked pavement three floors down. “I usually play it safe.”
“Play it safe?” He leans over my body, keeping me bent at the waist. He nips my neck and shivers rush along the surface of my skin. “You?”
“I used to.” I gasp as he scrapes his teeth along my shoulder, then licks the skin with his tongue. “I couldn’t do it anymore. I was invisible.”
“Invisible?” He drops his head down on my shoulder. “I can’t believe that.”
“I was. No one saw me.” But it’s already hard to remember, at least it is at this moment with Wes’s body pressed into mine.
“You’re not invisible tonight.” His breath is warm against my neck. He runs his hands down my spine and I arch back. I don’t want him to stop. Maybe I’ve been craving his touch forever. His hands roam lower, running over my ass. He slips his fingers down through my slick flesh, teasing me again before slipping them out. He cups the cheeks of my ass and lifts me up onto the toes of my red pumps with the sparkly bling.
Wes plunges into me from behind, lifting me even higher. For a moment I’m afraid I’m going to fly over the edge of the railing, but as he fills me, nothing else matters. I cry out, the sound echoing off the walls of the apartment building. But even that doesn’t cause any of the curtains to stir. Maybe I should cry out a little louder.
And then he thrusts harder, burying himself even deeper, and I do.
“God, Lydia! You’re so tight. So hot!” He wraps an arm around my waist as he plunges into me again and again. He surrounds me with his body, his scent. Fills me with his heat. He’s everywhere, inside and out.
He slows down his strokes and starts to talk again. I don’t know how he has the breath. “The moon’s right over you now, curving around your head like a halo,” Wes whispers in my ear. “But you’re no angel, are you? You tempted me with your siren call, a seductive mix of the blues and orgasmic bliss.”
I want some more orgasmic bliss. “Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?”
He chuckles and pulls almost all the way out of me, then oh so slowly, slides his cock back in. “I think you like my words. You like me to tell you what you look like. What you do. What you do to me.”
mouth is dry from panting. I swallow, but I can’t seem to speak.
“Do you want to know what you do to me, Lydia?” He tugs me more tightly against him with his arm around my waist. “You’ve turned me into a horny teenager. I can’t think about anything but your wild hair and fuck-me heels and hot, wet pussy.” He slides his other hand across my abdomen and down to cup my sex. His hand rests heavily there, but doesn’t move, doesn’t stroke or tease o
r tangle with the sensitive, needy flesh. “I can’t think about anything else but burying myself deep inside you. I can’t think about anything but feeling you come beneath me and hearing you scream when you go over the edge.”
He’s right. His words turn me on as much as his body does.
I moan, but he doesn’t move his hand where it rests against my mound. Does he want to drive me crazy? Or is he teasing me? The tension builds with each drag of his cock against my inner walls. I rock my hips with each thrust, but with his hand pressed against my pussy, my arousal can only spin so far.
“Please, Wes, please,” I beg. My head drops forward and I groan in frustration.
His light chuckle tickles my ear. “Easy. Do you want this over so soon?”
I groan again. Prickles of desire are eating at me from every surface and deep within me as well. “Maybe.”
He kisses my spine, then finally moves the hand between my thighs. Wes slowly brushes his long fingers lightly over my pulsing clit before abandoning it to slip over the swollen folds surrounding his plunging cock. I close my eyes and savor every amazing sensation. Now I understand his desire to take his time. I want to come so badly, but I don’t want it to end.
This time there’s no piano playing through the speakers, no solo saxophone crying the blues. This time our moans and heavy breathing are the erotic background music that serenade our pleasure. The rush of the traffic below us and the slap of flesh against flesh are the sounds I’ll remember when I think about this night.
He’s going at me from both sides now, his cock thrusting into me from behind, his fingers rubbing me from the front. I’m bent over the railing and my body rocks against the hard iron, digging into my stomach. I open my eyes and look up at the moon.
I idly wonder about the people in the apartments around us. Is there anything more interesting happening on their TV screens than what is going on right outside their windows? Do they ever check to see what they might be missing? Why do I even care?
See Me Page 3