by Cara Thereon
“How are you?” His silky voice caressed her name.
She glanced out and saw his curtains open and his lights on. He sat near the window in a chair, staring up at her. Her eyes slid over his relaxed body. He was wearing a white dress shirt and dark dress pants. The unbuttoned shirt revealed his magnificent chest and rock hard abs, the button of his pants open and low on his hips. She bit her lip as she looked down at him.
“I’m . . . I’m okay.” She barely squeezed the words pass the lump in her throat. The embarrassment had returned, unnerving her.
His smile reached across the distance and warmed her. “You sound a little flustered. What are you thinking about?”
Sylvia felt her face flush, shaking in denial. Shame made her flush to a bright red, things too naughty to say flitting through her mind. He laughed and she saw it on his face even as it floated through the line.
“But I want to know.” As he sat up, his pants slid lower revealing more of his tanned skin. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“A-about.” She cleared her throat, but the huskiness remained. “About how badly I want to put my mouth on you.”
Her eyes lingered on his hand as it settled on the bulge between his legs. “Where? Tell me where.”
“On your lips.” Her tongue darted out as though to taste his mouth.
Intense eyes watched her. A beat later he spoke, “Where else?”
“Your chest.” Her hand rose of its own volition and caressed the window. Feeling bold, Sylvia said more, “I’d lick so I could taste the salt on your skin then I’d take your nipple between my teeth.”
He finished unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it off and tossing it to the ground. All that beautiful skin, the wonderful flex of his muscles, moving beneath his skin like the tide.
“Take off your shirt; trace the path with your fingers.” She was pulling it off her body before he finished speaking, pushing her shorts down as well. He grunted in what she assumed was approval. “No underwear. Very eager.”
A kernel of embarrassment threatened to overwhelm her desire, but she ignored it. Instead she removed her hand from the window and touched her body as she would his. She kept her eyes on him, loving the way his breathing changed as he watched her. Her skin was sensitive as she traced her fingers along her collarbone and across her chest. Her nipples hardened when she circled them, and a moan slipped from her as her fingers teased them to hard points. When she traced a finger down her stomach to the apex of her thighs, her eyes slid shut.
“Tell me what you’d do,” he demanded, pulling her back to him.
“I’d lick your hips first, moving down to trace the muscles of your thighs with my tongue. Then I’d wrap my hand around you,” she gasped out as she touched herself. Her hips rocking against her questing fingers, her mind focused on his voice, and the pictures she was creating with her words.
“Would you take me in your mouth, Sylvia?” Rough and silky, his voice flowed over her. Teasing along side her fingers, her mind picturing his hand where hers played.
“Yes. Yes, as far as I can take you. I need to know what you taste like; all of you.” Her voice broke at the end as her pleasure started to mount.
“Open your eyes and look at me.” It took a moment, but she managed to focus her eyes on him. He was standing now as naked as she was, staring up at her. She moaned at the sight of his hand gliding fast up and down his length. “I’d like to see those beautiful lips wrapped around me. See you looking up at me with the same look of pleasure you’re wearing now.”
His words did something to her. She felt her body flutter and knew it wouldn’t be long. Her one wish was to know his name. “Please,” She whispered. “Tell me your name.”
“Why?” His voice lost its smoothness, as his passion grew hotter.
“Because I want to scream it when I come.”
His eyes were riveted to what she was doing. She closed her eyes because she didn’t think he was going to tell her and she was too close to care. “Damon.” He whispered. Her eyes shot open and met his across the space. “Say me name, Sylvia.”
“Damon.” She panted out.
“Say it again.” His hand moved fast, gripping tight around his shaft and making her mouth water with longing. Just the sight was enough to send her over the edge.
“Damon.”
His name felt so good on her lips, and she uttered it over and over. She tossed back, rocked her hips, and rode the wave of her climax as it rippled along her nerve endings. Her knees felt weak and her mind fuzzy, but her body was hummed with satisfaction. The only thing better would be having him next to her, inside her, making her feel this good.
“Damon,” she whispered as she opened her eyes only to find his curtain closed.
The sound of his breathing greeted her. It was harsh, rapid, and a signal of her effect on him.
“Tomorrow, Sylvia. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight.” She whispered before hanging up.
***
“Sylvia.”
“Damon.” The sultry tone of her voice didn’t surprise her like it should.
“What are you wearing tonight?”
She pulled the curtains back to look down into his room, but his curtains were closed, the lights. Confusion rose at the realization that he wasn’t there tonight. The urge to ask him was on the tip of her tongue, but she stopped herself. Her confusion morphed into disappointment, which settled like a lead weight in her stomach. She wanted to see him, to have his eyes on her.
As long as he was there, as long as she could hear his voice, it would have to be enough.
“Sylvia?” The way his rough voice caressed her name made her shiver. “Tell me.”
“I’m wearing my favorite bra and panties.” She ran her hands over the lace cups, once again disappointed that he wouldn’t see them.
“Take them off.” Her heart began to race at his words.
“Don’t you want to see me?” She asked.
“I will. Right now I want you to take them off and tell me each move you make.”
Getting off her bed, she walked over to her mirror. For some reason she needed to watch herself as she removed her things. She traced a finger lightly over the edge of her panties loving the way the bright pink color looked against her skin.
“I’m standing in front of the mirror.” She couldn’t lift her voice above a whisper. “Which do I take off first?”
“The bra. Talk to me.” He sounded like he was walking somewhere. The distinct sound of footsteps sounded through the line.
Not wanting to lose the moment with too many questions, she let herself get into it. “I’m rubbing my hand across my chest.” She let her fingers trail down one strap, across the edge of the cups, and up the other strap.
“What color is your bra?”
“Pink.”
“Very sweet. Now what?” The sound of footsteps grew muffled.
“I’m pushing the straps down my arm, first the left, and now the right. The straps are off completely and I’m reaching around to unhook it.” The moment she did her breasts fell free of the lace and the bra floated to the floor.
His voice was an octave lower when he spoke, “Are your nipples hard?”
She glanced at them in the mirror. They were tight and her breasts felt heavy. Dark berries, thrusting from her chest, longing to be tasted. The skin of her areola crinkled more at the thought of his mouth on her.
“Yes.” She whispered back.
He groaned. “Are you touching yourself?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Not yet. Take those panties off.”
“Okay.” She held the phone between her ear and shoulder and hooked her fingers under the band. “I’m inching them down, over my hips, and down my thighs.”
“Are you wet? Touch yourself and tell me.”
She stepped out of her panties and then watched in the mirror as she slid her fingers up her thighs. A single glide of her finger through her slit colle
cted so much cream. “Yes, I’m wet.” She caressed herself barely suppressing a moan.
“Good.” He cleared his throat of the hoarseness. “Go into the living room and sit on the couch.”
Her hand stilled. “Why?”
“Because I want to picture you spread out on the couch waiting for me.”
The image of her lying on the couch, naked and waiting for him, made her gasp. “Okay.”
She walked out of her room and down into the living room. Sylvia left the curtains closed, but she got a tiny thrill out of the possibility of someone seeing her as she moved naked through her house. Her walk slowed as she moved to the beige couch, draping her body on the cushions.
“Touch yourself, Sylvia. Picture me doing it.” There was that hypnotic quality to his voice she couldn’t say no to, pulling her to action. “Tell me how it feels.”
Her hand found its way between her thighs again and she slicked her finger through the wetness. Swirling over her clit, letting it swell to attention. She let her legs fall open, the lips of her slit opening wider.
“Wet, warm.” His groan spurred her on. “It feels good. I’ve got my legs spread and my fingers moving slowly. I wish it were you touching me, putting your cock inside. You would feel so hard and strong.” She threw her head back as a strong sensation shivered through her. “And I’d never grow tired of you taking me.” She gasped out.
“I’ll wear you out.” His breathing was shallow. “You’ll be too tired to move in the morning.” His words held promise.
“Come wear me out then, Damon.” She moved her fingers faster, arching into it. “I don’t want to be able to move.”
She was so close, and tilted her hips to hasten her pleasure. Her hips surged to meet the movements of her fingers. She tweaked her nipple, letting the pleasure zing and build like a fire inside. She didn’t stop the sounds she made, his name tumbling from her lips.
A knock on the door startled her. Sylvia froze as the first glimmers of her release shivered through her. She couldn’t prevent the cry that flew from her lips. It was one of surprise and passion.
“Can I watch?” Damon’s voice sounded on the line and through the door as another wave washed over her.
He was so close. Sylvia lay back against the couch as a trickle of anxiety wormed through her. Fear and desire warred as she considered letting in the man she only knew from a distance.
Was she safe to let this man into her house or her body?
“I can practically hear your thoughts.” There was an amused quality to his voice. “You’re wondering if I’ll hurt you.”
She pushed up, staring at the door as she asked, “Would you?”
“No,” he said firmly. And some part of her believed him. “I don’t want to hurt you; I want to touch you. I want to touch you with my hands, then my lips, and then my tongue. Then I want to part your legs and slid between them so you can feel me inside of you. You want that, don’t you, Sylvia?”
Her heart was racing with longing for everything he offered, “I do, but . . .”
“You’re scared; I understand.” There was rustling that caught her attention. “I want to make myself as vulnerable as you are now.”
“How are you going to do that?” She swung her legs over the edge, her eyes still glued to the door.
“I took off my clothes and I’m standing on your porch naked.”
“What?” Her eyes drifted shut as she pictured it.
“I’m out here waiting for you in nothing but my skin. I’m excited just thinking about you on the couch.”
A streak of daring raced through her. “What would you do if let you in?”
“I’d take you and lay you on the floor. I’d touch you and taste you until you screamed.”
“Do you want me that bad?” She found herself rising off the couch and walking toward the door.
“I do. I’ve been thinking about it for days. Every time you open your curtains, I go a little crazy. I’ve been wanting you, dreaming about you.”
She reached for the knob, the metal cool on her skin, and paused. “You’ve been dreaming about me?”
His sigh came through the line. “I dream of you and wake up hard. I picture you underneath me, your soft lips on mine, and touching you. Then I jack off to that thought, knowing it’s not enough.”
Yes, she thought. She took a deep breath and pulled the door open. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him standing there as naked as he said he would be. Light from the street lamp spilled over his skin making him appear a beautiful golden color. His erection thrust towards her in a way that belied his relaxed stance against the doorframe. They stared at each other for a long moment, electricity bouncing between them.
“You’re beautiful.” His eyes seemed to burn into hers.
“So are you,” she whispered.
A beautiful smile spread across his face and she felt her body sway toward him. He straightened up to take a small step toward her and that was all it took for her to end up in his arms. Sylvia let him devour her, let him take control of the moment. He picked her up and carried her back into the door kicking the door shut behind him. They barely made it to the living room before he had her on the floor by the couch. The kiss went on and on, she felt like she could barely breathe.
“You feel so good.” He breathed against her lips.
His mouth moved down to the pulse point at her neck, his hand slipped between to touch her. She arched into him, spreading her legs wide to welcome him. Each caress, each nip of his teeth fired her higher until she was writhing and moaning. He settled into that space in between her thighs, fitting his body against.
So warm, a perfect fit, his skin slipping along hers.
She wrapped her legs around him trapping him against her. “I need you. Please.”
His hand was gone in an instant to be replaced by the brush of his shaft against her core. She scratched her nails down his back, reaching to grip his ass, beckoning him inside. He inched forward and she groaned at the feeling of him stretching her wide.
More, she wanted more. He froze and she cried out in frustration. Her nails dug into the taut skin of his butt determined to bring him as deep as he could go.
He cursed softly in her ear. “I didn’t bring any protection.”
She rolled her hips and he sank deeper. “I’m clean and I’m on the pill.”
“I’m clean.” He nipped her earlobe.
“Then what the hell are you waiting for?” She demanded, her body clinging as he moved. “You’re supposed to be making me scream.”
He buried himself deep with a low groan “I will,” he murmured as he pulled out and thrust back in. “Just wait.”
Hitchhiker
Dust coated her tongue and every sweep made it stick like paper to the roof of her mouth. Kat tried to wash the taste down with the last bit of water she had, but it only made the dusty taste spread down her throat. It had the added effect of intensifying the growing frustration welling up inside of her.
She tossed the bottle to the ground, turning at the sound of a car’s tires crunching on the road. Her heart gave a lurch at the possibility of having a ride for at least a short distance, and she began to wave her hand in hopes of getting the attention of the person in the black sports car. The rising up died when the car sped by, tossing up dust that clouded around her.
Blinking back tears that threatened to choke her, Kat turned to glance back down the road. Her stomach gave a mournful plea and her feet throbbed, all unkind reminders of the futility of this trip. She tried to push away the regret she felt, but it hung like the dust cloud around her head.
She toed the empty bottle and considered her next move. A glance at the position of the sun told her that she only had a couple of hours before dark, making staying out on this two-lane road unsafe. Her only option was to walk until she hit the next town, which meant twenty more miles on her feet. Just the prospect had her blinking away tears again, but she drew herself up. She started this and
now she needed to finish it.
“Alright, Kat, start walking.” The sigh she released was much too pitiful for her tastes, but at least she was able to turn and start walking again.
It took a few seconds to realize the car that had passed her moments before was stopped some feet ahead of her. Her musing must have rendered her deaf if she missed the rumble of that motor idling. Excitement had her racing forward, but caution caught up with her when she reached the silver bumper. Anyone could be in that car and the prospect of food and rest weren’t enough reason to get into the car with a stranger.
Were they?
Just glancing at her haggard expression in the tinted windows made her wonder. Her dark hair was limp and shadows, ones that had always lingered there, were much deeper beneath her dark eyes. She looked bruised and worn out, and had to glance away in order to compose herself. Maybe her decision wasn’t as hard as she thought, her chest tightening just a little.
The whir of the power window as it lowered brought her mind back. She slung her backpack higher on her shoulder then leaned into, a smile on her dust coated face. A man, much too handsome for her tired mind to comprehend, sat in the driver’s seat. Her eyes did a rapid inventory of his body as she attempted to come up with something. Say something, she thought as her eyes wandered.