It fills me with so much lust and all these crashing and swelling emotions that I stretch my neck up so he can go deeper. I jack off his base, all sticky and slippery, and lick him with the flat of my tongue, tasting his musk and salt.
I do all of that so he can come in my throat and fill my stomach.
But he doesn’t.
He drives in and out for a couple of seconds more before he rips my mouth away. His cock comes out and it’s all red and slippery and throbbing.
I’m panting, confused. My jaw is wet with my saliva and his pre-cum and my lungs are bursting with breaths that I’ve suddenly gotten back when he released my throat.
“What…”
He bends down and pulls me up by my arms. Then he puts his hands around my waist and hauls me off the ground. As usual, my legs go around his hips but they don’t stay there. They inch up and up.
They have to because he doesn’t stop when I’m eye-level to him. He keeps going until his mouth is on my tits and my legs are somewhere around his ribs.
My pussy gushes cream at the sheer display of his strength.
He makes me feel so feminine and fragile and tiny when he does things like this.
When I’m situated as I’m supposed to be, he stares up and into my eyes. His hands knead the soft flesh of my waist and I bite my lip, looking down at him.
“Why’d you make me stop?” I whisper.
He kisses the slope of my breast, just above my neckline. “Because I don’t want to come on your face or your neck or your tongue. I want to be inside of you when I blow.”
He puts a period on his sentence with another kiss on my breast before he reaches up with one hand, while still keeping me all plastered and secure against his torso, and jerks the bodice of my dress down.
He makes my tits bounce, and looking into my eyes, closes his mouth over my tender flesh and sucks. Arching up into his mouth, feeling his teeth digging into my skin, his beard scraping it, I reach back and unzip my dress so the neck goes down easily.
And it does.
It bares my tits and my nipples. Like panties, I’m not wearing a bra either. I don’t have to, not here, when it’s just him and me. And he latches on to my puffy nipple while I hug him and rub up against his body.
I’m so turned on that it doesn’t even register until he’s started to move. He’s striding toward something but I can barely care when he’s got his mouth on my skin and he’s laving his tongue like that and slurping in my swollen nipple.
He breaks away from me when we reach where he was trying to go. It was his truck.
We’re at his truck, still out in the open and in the driveway, when he lowers me and drops me on the leather seat, through the passenger side door.
I slide back so he can climb inside before closing the door with a bang and going for my waist again. He pulls me over and makes me straddle his lap.
Only then do I get a good look at his face.
At his lust-slashed cheeks, his moist lips, his drugged-up eyes. Bull of a man, my Graham.
He looks so messy and sexy and masculine with his jeans half-undone and that shaft I was sucking on peeking through the waistband.
“You like dancing, yeah?” he rasps.
Squirming, I nod. “Yeah.”
He gets his hand under the hem of my dress that he bought me, making the skin of my thighs coarse with goosebumps. He inches the hem up until my pantyless pussy is all bare and exposed. He does it all while staring into my eyes, but when my swollen, pink cunt comes into view, he gazes down.
He lasers his eyes at my core and licks his lips. My clit jerks and tightens at the peek of his tongue, the tongue that’s given it so much pleasure over the past few weeks.
Glancing back at me, he commands, “Dance for me, then. Dance where anyone can see you. Where anyone can see that you’re on my lap. That you’re giving me a lap dance and shaking those tits for me. But here’s the twist, baby.”
My throat is all dried up and I can’t even swallow. All I can do is watch him with wide, excited eyes and hang onto his every word like if I let go and miss them, I’ll fall off this huge cliff and die.
“What?”
He leans over me and kisses me on the lips. “My cock is going to be inside you. You’re going to dance on my cock but no one will know, will they? Because your pretty dress will hide us. Your pretty dress will hide your pussy while I fuck you like a bad man. It will be our secret.”
I bite my lip. I bite his lip at this.
I go so completely delirious at the prospect of making our own secret that I bounce in his lap with excitement.
Smiling with this new-found recklessness and wildness, I whisper, “But there’s going to be another twist.” I caress his beard and place a kiss on his lips. “Instead of my pussy, your cock is going to be in my ass.”
He fists my dress, his knuckles dimpling my thighs, while his eyes are going darker than I thought possible. “Is that so?”
Dark, dark, dark. More beastly.
His tone, his gaze, his intentions.
I can feel them running like current in my veins.
“Yeah. Remember what you told me that night?” I don’t give him the chance to answer as I continue, “You told me that you can’t take my tight ass because you haven’t even fingered my pussy yet. You’ve fingered it now. You’ve fucked it, made love to it. So you gotta take my ass now.”
His hands have let go of my dress and shifted to my butt in the last five seconds. He’s grabbed both my bare cheeks and he’s flexing his fingers. Pulling at the flesh and releasing, kneading it, massaging it as if getting my back hole ready for dancing.
“You can’t back out now,” I urge him on and his nostrils flare.
I watch as all semblance of control and civility leaches out of him, making him go bad. Completely and utterly bad.
Badder than ever before, making me wilder than ever before.
“I can’t say something and not do it, can I?” he says in an abraded, low voice.
I put my hands on his shoulders and shake my head slowly. “No, you can’t. You have to deliver, Mr. Edwards.”
He chuckles but it’s more a cloud of breath than anything. It only makes his frame shake with lust. It only makes his truck shake with our desire.
“I’ll deliver then.”
He lifts me up, while he slides down on the seat, sprawling himself even more, widening his thighs and adjusting himself in a way that he can deliver on his promise.
Then he brings me closer to him and I bend down to place a soft kiss on his lips, even though every nerve ending in my body is demanding that I attack him with my mouth.
Attack him for giving me what I want. Always, always giving me what I want.
But for now, all I do is watch him prepare himself.
He gets his cock out and licks the center of his palm. My breath hitches when I watch him wrap that palm around his already wet shaft and pump it up and down, making it all juicy and slippery.
That move is so fucking sexy that both my holes clench.
Both of them get needy.
And when he reaches forward and clasps my entire core, I almost black out. He gathers my wetness and practically pours it over his cock. He gets it so wet and slippery that my pussy gushes at the sight, salivating, drooling.
So much so that he lines his cock up against my cunt and runs it up and down my folds. To really get at it. To really slather himself with all my juices and cream.
All the while, all I can do is watch. All I can do is hang onto his shoulders, hovering over his lap and watch his hips go up and down as he lubes his cock for me, hitting my clit in the process, preparing me as well.
But that’s not all.
He doesn’t seem satisfied with only that much.
So he takes his cock and plunges it in my pussy, making me throw my head back and moan at the sudden invasion.
He bounces that cock inside me, bouncing me
in the process. Bouncing me in his lap, filling me so good and so much.
When I moan and claw at his shoulders because I’m dying with arousal, he gets his shaft out. It’s slathered in my juices now. Same as my thighs. Same as his jeans.
He asks, “You sure?”
It makes me shiver, the tone in which he says it. All beaten down and thinned out with lust but still dripping with concern.
“Yeah,” I manage to whimper.
In fact, I’ve never been surer of anything other than this. I’ve never been surer of anyone other than him.
The man I’m going to have this secret with. The man who made me discover this wildness in me.
The man who’s going to fuck my ass right in front of the world.
And I can’t wait. I can’t wait to give him this part of me.
He can’t either.
Because in the next moment, he brings the wetness of my pussy to my back hole. He lubes it up like he lubed up his cock, as much as he can. Then he goes ahead and grabs both my cheeks to position me.
Grabbing my butt in his wet, sticky hands, he stretches my hole over his throbbing cock.
“Sit on it,” he rasps, looking up at me. “Slowly.”
And I do.
I can’t wait to do it. I can’t wait to sit on him even though I know it’s going to hurt. It’s already stinging, him parting my cheeks and stretching my hole, but I don’t care.
So I push down and try to get his crown inside of me.
It’s not easy though. Not at all. All I’ve had back there is either his thumb or his finger in the past days. He wouldn’t agree to fucking me there with his cock. He’d either ignore me or distract me with his fantastic skills in bed.
But he’s giving me what I want right now. He’s just as needy for it.
He’s giving it to me and I’m taking it, no matter what.
I’m holding onto this wildness in me and running with it.
Clenching my eyes shut, I push and push and moan with the burn of it, the sting, the pain. But the fact that he’s so patient with me, that he plays with my clit to make me relax and that he shushes me when I whimper and shiver, makes it easier.
That and the mighty hold he has on my waist with his one hand, so he can keep me safe and balanced over him, eases the way. It makes me determined.
And I slowly manage to get his head inside of me and the pain of it is so brilliant and sharp and delicious that I fist the collar of his shirt.
He kisses me on the throat and hums over my skin. I can feel his lust pulsing in the air. I can feel the need he’s trying to keep in check so I can adjust to his size.
And to open me up, he begins to move. Like he did the night he took my virginity. He fucks me with that one inch of his cock.
He loosens me up, slowly. While he’s groaning over my skin, kissing the column of my throat, licking it and keeping me plastered to his body.
It’s so good and amazing and so fucking different that I realize something else.
I realize that he’s fucking me without a condom. That we’re skin to skin for the first time ever.
For the first time ever, I feel every inch of him, every ridge and groove of his thick length as it stretches me like I’ve never been stretched before.
“Oh God, honey,” I breathe out as everything inside of me gets both loose and tight.
So many firsts that all the feelings, all the sensations, new and old are colliding right now. They’re colliding and clashing and I want him all the way inside.
All the way until he’s seated to the root and the skirt of my dress is spread all around us, hiding his cock in my ass. Hiding that I just gave up my virgin ass to him in broad daylight.
With a final push of his hips, it happens.
He’s been slowly and patiently opening me up and now, he gets all the way inside, making me hiccup and moan.
Now, I’m completely sitting on his lap, his thick, pulsing length throbbing in my ass.
Breathing hard, I look at him, all full and achy in this new way.
With sweat dotting his forehead, he asks, “You okay?”
I nod, biting my lip.
He finally lets go of my waist and reaches up to thumb my cheek. “Tell me if it hurts.”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Good.” A hard kiss, then, “Cover us with your dress.”
That makes me jerk and tremble, and he begins to move. Very, very slowly with short pumps.
They make my pussy wetter, his slow movements, and my hands shake when I pull down my dress and cover us with the hem, making it look like I’m just sitting on his lap.
Yes, my dress is half-unzipped and the straps are somewhere down my arms, my breasts visible and jiggling. But no one knows that he’s inside of me.
No one knows that he’s taking my tight ass.
It fills me with a rush. It fills me with so much lust and adrenaline that for a second, I think of all the scenarios where he can fuck me like this.
I think of restaurants, movie theatres, a park bench, all the public places where I can sit on his lap with his cock inside of me and no one will know.
Oh, they’ll speculate and guess and whatnot and they might think I’m a slut for sitting in his lap like that but I won’t care.
I’ll look at each and every one of those people in the eye and smile, while keeping this secret. Our secret.
The fantasy is so arousing, the fantasy that I never even thought I had in me, that I begin to move as well. I begin to move against him and his pumps get smoother and longer.
I give him his lap dance in small, halting movements. I bounce in his lap.
I rock and writhe. I even jiggle my tits, shake them for him, feeling the friction of his jeans over my bare thighs, grinding my clit against his pelvis.
God, I could do this all day. I could do this all the time, for the rest of my life, dance for him like this while he’s pumping into me from below.
While we watch each other.
While his hands are cradling my face – as always – and mine are clutching his shoulders. While he breathes over my lips and I breathe over his. While my tits rub up against his chest and his strokes become longer and faster.
While his truck is shaking and rocking with us and the windows fog up.
But more than anything, I wanna do this all day and for the rest of my life because I want to make all my secrets with him. Secrets like this one. So dirty and sacred at the same time.
It’s us: him and me. The new us that we’ve created together.
I told him that night when I wore the red dress for him, that I want us to be us, just him and me.
This is us.
Wild and savage and filthy and beautiful. Beauty and The Beast.
And I’m right there, right on the edge of coming for him. He probably senses that, sees it on my face and knows it from the way I’m squirming now, restlessly and erratically.
Because he pushes me over the edge with this:
“I’ll keep you here, you understand?” he whispers, penetrating my soul with his gaze that surprisingly looks very clear and alert despite his heavy, erotic breathing. “I’ll keep you safe, in my lap. I’ll hide you in my arms. No one will hurt you, baby. Ever. No one will ever make you feel scared. I won’t let them.”
At this, my eyes clench shut and I come.
I have to. I have no choice but to let go and let his words, his look of pure possession take over.
It makes me sob, my climax, it’s so brutal. It’s so all-consuming that I go completely rigid in his arms, so completely frozen and he hugs me then. He brings me to his chest and tucks my face into his neck, as he moves inside of me.
I pant on his skin with an open mouth as I come and come. I even feel my pussy leak all over his jeans. I feel the juices running out from my fluttering hole and seeping into the fabric and his skin,
and it makes me come even harder.
It makes my holes clench and that sets him off.
That makes him splatter his cum inside of me, all thick and hot, covering my walls for the very first time. He jerks below me, his hips pumping once and twice, three times before he completely empties and fills my ass up to the brim.
Through all this, he keeps his arms wrapped around me. He keeps me safe in them, hides me away from everything.
Then he whispers, “Happy birthday a day early, baby.”
And I die, or at least, tears leak out of me as this pain grips my heart.
He remembered.
He remembered my birthday even when I forgot. It’s my birthday tomorrow and I’ve been busy living the dream that it completely slipped my mind.
But he remembered.
On top of that, he gave me a gift for it. This was a gift, wasn’t it? He gave me what I wanted from him. I wanted him to take my ass and he did.
But he gave me another gift too.
He calmed down my anxious thoughts. He claimed me in front of someone, picked me over everything and gave me the strength to look a stranger in the eyes while standing up for him.
Finally, I understand the restlessness that I felt when Graham stopped me from spilling my biggest secret in front of Richard.
That restlessness was because I wanted to tell Graham. I wanted him to know.
Because how could I have not told him yet? How could I have been so selfish? I can’t have him fighting the world for scaring me when he doesn’t know the truth.
Besides, it doesn’t matter if he can’t love me. It doesn’t matter that he’ll never love me. Or that he’ll stop looking at me the way he usually does, like I’m his world.
Love isn’t about asking someone to love you back.
It’s about loving.
It’s about finding that thing you love and letting it kill you because you’re going to die anyway. And what better way to go than at the hands of someone you love.
That’s what Bukowski said, didn’t he? Those were the words that pushed me to kiss him that night when I turned eighteen. So it’s only symmetric that they push me now.
I’ll tell him the truth and maybe he’ll kill me. But it’s okay.
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