by Amanda Faye
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Sugarplum.”
Her dress drops to the floor, and I take in the view before me.
Black thong, black bra, black lace up boots.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
It’s my turn to bite my lip.
It’s not like I haven’t seen her in a bikini before. But this? This is something altogether different.
I yank my belt open, not bothering to take it off. Snap the button on my pants. She’s watching me, waiting for my response, chest heaving in anticipation. If I don’t have her now, I’m going to implode all over this hotel room.
The feeling in my extremities drops out to be replaced with burning, pulsing need.
“Cristina,” I moan as I close the gap between us.
With a hand on her face and a hand on her hip, I back her up until she hits the couch.
“Ump.”
I lift her from the ground, so her feet are dangling inches above the carpet, then change our positions, so my back is to the furniture.
When I drop to the cushions, pulling her with me, her body follows mine like liquified rubber. Where I land like a lump, hard and uncoordinated, she’s graceful and boneless, settling herself to straddle my lap.
“You know I have a bed twenty feet away,” she mumbles against my lips, hands trailing over my bare back.
“Too far. It’ll take too long.”
Her chest rumbles in amusement.
I dip my hands into the cups of her bra, freeing her breasts to the air. Her nipples are puckered and tight, and she groans into my mouth when I rub my thumbs against her peaks.
She grinds herself against my length, and I have to pause my hands and concentrate on not coming in my pants.
This is not a dream, dude. Do not ruin this for us.
I should have jacked off in the fucking shower.
“Sugarplum,” I grunt out, and she seems to get the point. Reaching between us, she finds the waistband on my boxer briefs, shoving them down with one hand and wrapping the other around me.
“Sweet Jesus.”
My head falls back, and I breathe in through the sensations of her tiny hand wrapped around my cock. She pumps me slowly, one, twice, smearing my leakage up and down my length.
“If I’d have known I’d get this type of reaction from you, I’d have tried this ages ago.”
She’s laughing at me, the brat, but the fight has gone out of my sails. Through the blood pooling in my balls.
“You don’t have to be so cocky you know,” I pant, and immediately regret my words.
“Well, then. I’ll stop if you—.”
“Nonono, I’m sorry. I love you. Please, for all that is holy, DON’T STOP.” Panic squirms in my gut, mixing and blending with the passion that’s been pooling there. I’m almost dizzy with the sensations.
My fingers dig into her bare ass cheeks, pinning her where she sits.
My eyes are squeezed tight, begging every deity I can think of that she doesn’t crawl off of my lap. She leans forward, chest laughing against me, whispering in my ear.
Her hand is still wrapped languidly around my dick.
“The power. The absolute power.”
Before I can respond, she lifts her lips from my legs, and my eyes snap open when I feel her start to lower herself onto me.
“The—the condoms,” I try to pant out. My hands rise to her hips automatically.
I’m piercing her flesh, no deeper in than the tip, and she releases her hold on me, bringing both her hands to rest on my shoulders.
“You talk too much,” she sighs.
She descends, inch by glorious inch, so slowly I wonder if this wasn’t once used as a torture method.
There was no prepping her, no foreplay. I haven’t even gotten a glimpse at that glorious cunt yet. I let my hands roam where they will, touching and teasing and easing her tension, while my mouth searches out her breasts.
She makes it easy for me, angling her chest just so, and I suck her nipple between my lips as she takes me just that much deeper.
She sighs when her ass is flat against my thighs, my pants still between us. Next time, I’ll hold her skin to skin.
“Kiss me,” she pleads, and I’m happy to fulfill her wish.
Her kisses are leisurely and serene, free of the anticipation coursing through my veins. I want to flip us, pin her down and take her until she’s screaming my name at the ceiling; she seems to anticipate my need.
“You promised I could be on top.”
A chuckle slips out between my teeth.
She rises on her knees, then drops unexpectedly. The impact sucks a gasp from both of us. It sends shock waves through my body. I feel her walls stretch and pulse around me. I’m holding on to the edge. Any verbal response I had is thrown out the window. Along with my brain.
I wrap my hand around her face, pulling her to me and crushing my lips to hers. She may be calm, but I am desperate, and I force my vehemence into her. Her hips rock against me, back and forth, and I know when I’ve hit the sweet spot as her muscles flutter around my cock. I plant my feet on the floor and scoot closer to the edge.
Her composure is crumbling, and she pulls on my hair as I arch my back and snap my hips to match her movements.
I tear my lips from hers with an audible pop and trace them down her throat, leaving love bites and whisker burn in my wake. Her hands are still in my hair, and he guides my mouth where she wants it, moaning ‘harder’ and ‘yes’ when I suck the curve of her breast into between my teeth.
Cris leans back into my arms, pulling her feet from under my legs and wrapping them around my waist. It deepens us still, pulling me that much closer to her center, and she rotates her hips with an audible gasp.
I don’t want it to end. I want to stay buried inside her for the rest of our lives, but my cock has other ideas, and I’ll be damned if I come without her.
I lower a hand between us, shoving my fingers into the side of her twisted-up panties.
You are so pathetic, Ryan. Didn’t even get her panties off. This is not how I imagined my first time with Cristina.
She’s smooth and bare, slick against my touch. Our juices are pooling between us, and I have a sudden desire to flip us and bury my face between her legs to finish her off.
Next time, I promise myself.
I experiment with my fingers against her clit. Slow and wide, touching as much of her folds as I can. Tight and rough, flicking the swollen bundle of nerves under my fingertips.
Her panting turns to whimpering, high-pitched and fast against the top of my head. Her hips start to snap, and I dig my heels into the carpet, meeting her thrust for thrust.
She jerks my head from her breast, colliding her lips to mine, sloppy and wet and everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Lightening zips from her fingers where she’s yanking on my hair. I use the sting to fuel my hunger for her.
I wrap my arm around her back, pinning my hand between us, holding her as tightly against me as I can. I’m not sure if I trigger her orgasm, or she triggers mine, but stars burst behind my closed eyes, and I pour myself inside of her.
She trembles in my arms, muscles spasming around me and against me. I feel her stomach contract, her heart racing against my own. My hand skims from her core up her belly, leaving lines of our shared pleasure across her skin.
I can’t—I can’t stop holding her. Even after our movements turn spastic, then, still altogether, I rub my hands up and down her back, keeping her centered against my heart.
I feel hollowed out and empty. Bare to the world.
Until she kisses me with a tenderness I’ve never felt before, cupping my face in her palms.
Then I’m overflowing, filled to the brim.
With her.
Chapter Nine
Ryan
My recovery period is not what it should be. We sit there for far too long, kissing lazily, the zipper from Cris's boots digging into my back.
My pants are ruined, and Cris squirms
on my lap in such a way that makes me think maybe the zipper on my slacks is digging into her.
She lifts her face from mine, and something—something—I can't read flashing across her features.
I say the first thing that comes to mind.
"I can do better."
She huffs out a bemused laugh, uncurling her legs from around my waist.
"Better?" She chuckles.
"Yes! Much better. You see, that was a long time coming, seeing you like that, here like this. I'm afraid I didn't show my skills to their best advantage. I told my dick to get his head in the game, but he told me his head was in you, and that was the end of that.
"But I can do better. I promise."
She looks at me like I've sprouted a second head and gingerly climbs off my lap.
"Ryan, you're rambling."
I rise to my feet, pulling her to me and devour her mouth. She stumbles into my arms, and I relish the off-kilter way she pulls me against her body.
I part from her lips, but trail kisses up and down her jawline before finally letting her go.
"Naked, now."
"Excuse me?" She asks, shaking out her glorious head of hair.
"I want you naked. Now. Boots too. They were fun, but now they have to go."
My pants are already around my ankles, and I shove my boxers off too, letting them both pool on the ground.
Not bothering to pick them up, I stalk into the bathroom, needing to relieve my bladder.
"You don't want to take them off me yourself?" She calls after me, amusement tinging her voice.
"Nope. Next time baby. Next time, I'm going to strip you slowly, piece by piece. I'm going to lick a trail down your body as I remove scrap after scrap of clothing. Tonight, I want you naked before I leave this room. Got me, Sugarplum?"
"Got you," she replies with a tremble in her voice.
Do you know how difficult it is to pee with a hard-on?
Speaking of which.
"By the way, what happened to the condoms."
"You'd never put me in danger," she replies, and I let the subject drop at that. She's right. I wouldn't.
I wash my hands and run a washcloth over my cock before bringing the damp fabric out to Cris. Just like I asked, she's standing in the middle of the bedroom, naked as a jaybird. My steps falter to a stop as I take in the view before me.
Areolas, the size of a half-dollar; nipples peaked and hard, rosy and kissable. I can count every rib under her bust, her breasts heaving up and down. Her collar bones jut from her chest, warring for my attention with her hip bones. Her thighs are perfect, tan and round, framing the oasis that is her pussy.
Without thinking, my hand strays to my cock. I stroke it slowly, trying to ease the ache already building inside again.
As I stare, a blush starts at her chest, blooming up her throat, filling her cheeks with blood and desire.
"Ryan, you're staring."
Damn straight, I am.
"Oh, Sugarplum. If you saw what I saw, you'd stare too."
My dick stands up and waves for her attention, but luckily, better heads prevail this time.
"On the bed. Now."
She gives me an amused smile. "And what will happen when I get on the bed?"
"I'm going to suck on your clit until you squirt like a water gun, and then I'm going to fuck you into the bed."
A shiver runs down her body.
"What if I say no?"
"No?" I ask, stalking towards her with slow, deliberate steps. The washcloth lays forgotten on the floor where it slipped from my fingers.
"Yes, no. Why do you get to dictate what happens? Maybe I have an idea for how this evening should go."
"Mmm-hmm," I hum, having no intention of letting her run this show.
I cup her breasts in my hand, weighing and measuring with my palm. Her eyes close, rolling into the back of her head and then snap open again—determination flaring behind her eyes.
Why she always has to do things the hard way, I'll never know.
I suck one breast into my mouth, rolling the peak with my tongue while I tweak and pull on the other, enjoying the sounds of contentment she tries to keep contained. Her hands rise to my head, against her will most likely. She caresses my scalp, holding me to her and running her fingers through my hair.
At her gentle direction, I switch sides, kissing and licking my way across. I let my teeth glide over her skin as I suck her neglected nipple between my lips.
"Yes," she pants, struggling to form the words, "Maybe I want to be in charge."
I suck on her collar bones, something I've been desperate do to since I hit puberty, and smirk in victory as her head falls back to expose her throat, her fingers tightening their grip in my hair.
"Too bad," I whisper, before snaking an arm under her knees and behind her waist, picking her up bridal style then throwing her onto the bed.
Laughter cascades from her mouth, her face scrunching up in surprise and enjoyment.
"Wait, wait, wait," she calls out, arm in front of her. She's still giggling; her other arm raised to support her where she landed on the mattress.
I pause, knee already on the edge of the bed.
"What, Sugarplum? You're killing my buzz. I only have a limited number of hours here, and your delay tactics are eating up my time."
Giggles overtake her again, and her face flushes in amusement.
"I want to be on top. You promised."
I huff in pretend irritation.
"Fine. Whatever."
Like any guy, anywhere, would ever say no to that.
She scampers to her knees, looking for all the world like she's pulled one over on me.
Girls.
I crawl onto the bed, following her to where the pillows sit under the cushions. She yanks one out, fluffing it exaggeratedly, before placing it in the middle of the mattress and moving her arms like a Price is Right model.
"You think you're so cute, don't you?"
"So, do you," she smirks.
God Damn, if she isn't right.
"So, you want to be in charge, huh? Are you going to sit on my face, Sugarplum? Ride me while I fuck you with my tongue?"
Another shiver runs through her body, and I give my cock a stroke or two while plucking at her nipples. I flop on the bed and stretch out beside her.
"Ready when you are."
Without further ado, she crawls until she's hovering over me, and I arch my neck to suck a tit into my mouth until she moves, stretching her nipple until it leaves my mouth with a pop.
"That hurt," she grouches.
"You liked it," I snark back, prepared for the smack on my chest that immediately follows.
Her leg swings over my shoulder, so she has a knee on either side of my head.
I smell of her is heady. Sweet and tangy, I suck it down, letting it fill my nostrils and lungs. Goosebumps rise on my arms as she hovers above me. I tilt my chin and pucker my lips, making her graze her mound against them. It's a tease, to both of us.
Her knees spread, and she lowers, drops really, on to my face, and I wrap my arms around her thighs, spreading her wide across me.
My tongue darts out, long slow licks, and I savor the first jolt of her taste on my palette. She's smooth against me, and I let my tongue slide between her folds. She tastes like vanilla and salt. Something right, something her, and it makes my mouth salivate so much I have to stop and swallow.
I latch onto her clit and moan my appreciation for its flavor, and her hips jerk against me, grinding down onto my face.
She's getting wetter by the moment, a combination of her juices and my tongue lathering her with my saliva. I dip a finger, then another, into her core, and she flexes around me, body arching and squirming where she's draped across my chest.
Her hands make their way to my dick, and I have to close my eyes, trying to block the exquisite feel of her taking me in hand so that I can give all my attention to her cunt.
Her mouth, big and loud and always
moving, wraps around my cock, and I freeze, breathing through my nose. It doesn't help. Instead, it only makes me harder, sucking in a lungful of her scent—my dick throbs in her mouth.
Nope. Not gonna happen. This is my show. I'm not going to let her ruin it by rushing me through another orgasm dammit.
I pull my mouth away from her clit, giving her hips a shove.
"Up. Get up."
She lets out a little whimper, which goes straight to my dick, and whines, "What the hell, Ryan?" As she sits up against my chin.
The action buries my nose into her center, and I use it to my advantage, sucking and nipping before smacking her ass and pushing her up.
"I can't have you touching my dick. It fucks with my concentration. Turn around and face the wall."
She snorts, never a good sign, and looks at me like my manliness just dropped ten points.
"Seriously?"
I am not ashamed.
Much.
"Very. Flip a bitch and assume the position."
I feel her roll her eyes, but she does as I bid, straddling my chest before hovering over my head with her hands on the headboard.
I don't wait for her lead this time, pulling her down to sit on my face. Her skin is slick and warm, and I suck her lips into my mouth, pulling and flicking with my tongue. Her hips are slow at first, back and forth, and side to side, but soon enough, she'd bucking against me, using the headboard for leverage.
I spread her with my hands, digging my fingers into her ass cheeks. My greatest hope is that I can still see my impression in them in the morning.
Her slick drips down my chin, covering my cheeks and throat, and I let her noises be my guide. My tongue flicks over her clit, faster and faster as rough as I can, and she gasps and whimpers, bearing down until all I see is her glorious ass bouncing on my forehead.
I let her ride my face, using me; however, she needs me, until she arches and strains, muscles firing a hundred shots a minute.
She slumps against me as the wind leaves her sails, and I take the opportunity to run my nose up and down her slit, counting the times she twitches and moans in surrender on top of me.
She was right. This should be the only way I lick her pussy for the rest of our lives.