| |
His lips brushed against mine, softly.
This was bigger than huge. This was... my birthday wish, come true.
I’d never been kissed like this before, so tenderly yet so passionately. The kiss was gentle, his lips moving against mine as if saying without words ‘why rush? We have all night’. I melted into his arms, my own arms tightening around his neck to hold myself up off the floor. Because suddenly my knees didn’t work.
His arms were around my waist, his hands stroking my back. The soft caress suggested so much more, if I wanted it. When the kiss ended, he pulled away; leaning back slightly, looking down at me with an unspoken question on his face.
I answered him with one word. “Yes.”
His mouth closed over mine again, this time more completely. His three day beard was rough, slightly prickly, but his kiss was smooth. He was taking possession of me, one slow, sensual kiss at a time. Embers had already been stoking inside of me, but this kiss caused them to flare. This kiss fueled them and set me aflame. My entire body was responding—I whimpered softly, unable to contain what was welling up inside.
He pulled me closer; I whimpered again, feeling the power in his arms. He could do whatever he wanted and I couldn’t stop him. Wouldn’t want to stop him. Because that kiss said he was going to show me things I’d never experienced before. That kiss said my whole definition of reality had just changed.
The kiss broke, leaving me gasping. I tipped my head back, giving him access to my throat. His lips moved in a slow, soft trail to my collar bone and back up again. I gripped his shoulders, my fingers digging into the tight muscles just beneath his shirt. When I felt his tongue sweep over my skin, I moaned, closing my eyes. In this room I had no inhibitions. In this room all I wanted to do was soak in the sensation he was creating.
We backed up, against the sofa, and I fell onto it. He lowered himself onto me, one leg between mine. And now I could feel how hard I made him, too. His kiss had hinted at his passion. But that pressure against my leg? That confirmed it. I moaned into his mouth as we kissed again.
“What are you doing to me?” he whispered, his mouth moving along my throat. I wanted to respond, to tell him it was he who was generating feelings in me, but all I could do was sigh.
My fingers danced through his hair. He felt so good above me.
His hand slipped beneath my sweater, touching my skin so softly. Just enough to make me stiffen, and then relax.
They reached the underside of my breasts, toying there briefly, caressing the silk of my bra. I wanted him to squeeze them. To hold them with both hands. I had good breasts, I knew that. I wanted him to know how good they could be. I closed my hand over his, through my sweater, and moved him higher—giving him permission. I felt hot breath against my neck, and then his fingers dipped beneath the satin. My hips flexed upward. I hadn’t intended to move, but I couldn’t help it—my body reacting to the electric touch he created. I was on fire now; owned by his mouth and fingers. I couldn’t breathe.
He pressed his leg between mine, and now—as I felt pressure through my jeans at that most sensitive of spots—I was owned there, too. I moved against him, rubbing harder. My need was almost painful, from the urge he was generating inside.
He pulled down my bra cup, still working beneath my sweater, giving him access as I arched my back. Then my eyes widened, a guttural cry emerging from my throat, as he pinched hard nipples. I ground myself into his leg, frantic at the feel of his tongue against my throat and hands upon my breasts.
He didn’t release me. Instead, he sucked the nape of my neck, kneading my breasts and then pinching my nipples, making me lose my mind against him like an animal. I ground upon him harder and harder, crying out with a raw voice until suddenly I stiffened, gripping him with all my might. I shuddered, trembling, as a wave of emotion swept through me. My heart stopped beating and the whole world narrowed down to just the two of us, and the convulsions I could feel inside.
When it was over, I didn’t open my eyes. I was mortified—I couldn’t believe that had just happened to me. He hadn’t even taken my clothes off! What must he think? What type of person just went and did something like I’d just done?
Yet, he still kissed me. And his member was still firm—harder, even, than before. He flexed his hips ever so slightly, grunting as his mouth moved down to my chest. He didn’t hate me. He wanted more.
So did I.
He pushed himself up, rising over me to remove his tie. I watched, breathless, as it unraveled into one straight long line and pulled off his neck. He unbuttoned his tailored shirt, next. I’d suspected he was fit but my eyes still widened when it slipped off to reveal perfect, chiseled musculature; just the right size for his frame. I reached up, unable to keep myself from touching him. Just the right size for my hands. He sighed when my fingers ran over his abs, then lower to the noticeable bulge in his pants.
He closed his eyes as my light, tentative touch became firmer. I’d thrown all hope of decorum out just moments earlier upon his leg. I had no reason, now, not to give in to what my eyes desired.
I rubbed harder, marveling at the feel of him through his pants. There was bulk there, and lots of it. I ached to undo that belt and see just how big he was. All in due time.
He looked down at me with a smile, taking me by the shoulders to pull me to a sitting position, and I crossed my arms over myself, pulling off my sweater. His hands slid the straps of my bra down my arms, his fingers gently caressing my skin. I reached behind, releasing the hooks; they snapped forward. The bra fell away with a slow loss of suction to reveal full, heavy breasts.
“My God,” he whispered, his hands immediately on me.
I chuckled at his enthusiasm, but the laughter died quickly as his fingers brushed across already electrified nerves. “So good,” I whispered, “It feels so good.”
He dropped to his knees, taking one breast into his mouth, then the other to lavish attention on them. I held his head to me, enjoying the rasp of his beard against my skin, and he bit down gently. I cried out.
Now he removed my boots, pushing me back gently against the sofa. His hand slid slowly down my thigh, my calf, removing one and then the other. Deft fingers moved to the waistband of my jeans next, unbuttoning them before sliding denim down my legs. His hands brought shivers to me every time they brushed against skin.
He began planting kisses all along the inside of my legs as he worked his way back up. I spread them for him—aching, unable to believe how crazy he was making me. He was at my knees now, I could feel each kiss, slightly higher than the last, behind his thick, black hair. I closed my eyes, savoring the moment. He was doing this for me. I felt like a princess.
I could feel him getting higher and higher. Mid-thigh now, and then even higher still. My eyes snapped open. His mouth was at the place where my thighs joined, his tongue lapping at damp panties. I gasped, my hips flexing. He’d built that need within me again, through his kisses and nothing more.
He lifted my hips, sliding my panties down, then spread my legs again, free to pleasure me thoroughly. With Dan, oral sex had been a chore, if it ever happened at all. With Chase, his head at my hips was a head spin—I had to struggle not to plant my hands on the back of his head and drive him into me.
He began by licking me, slowly, gently. Holding down my hips, keeping me still when all I wanted to do was move into him. I cried out, frustrated, wanting more. He laughed softly, looking up at me with a grin.
Finally, his tongue dipped deeper. My cry this time was almost a scream, thrills racing through my body as I watched him with eyes wide from above. The tender invasion didn’t stop at my noise, though. Instead, his tongue began to lap, stretching deep into me and then running upwards; two types of pleasure in the one, long stroke. He wouldn’t stop, and he was torturing me with pleasure. An endless stream of moans and cries began to issue from my mouth.
“Chase!” My hips thrust upward, off the cushions, my thighs clenched around his head. I could feel it coming—a wall of delight that would sweep me away. I had time to cry his name one more time before it hit. “Chase!” And then I screamed, my body wracked with pleasure, before falling exhausted back onto the sofa. I was breathless, spent.
When I could think again, feel again, it was to find him kissing me gently, softly, up and down my inner thighs—worshipping me; this beautiful man, worshipping plain old me.
He glanced up, grinning. “If you liked that, wait till you see the main event,” he whispered. “I need more of you.” My whole body flushed.
I nodded, and he took my hand, raising me from the sofa, leading me to a bedroom downstairs. Even walking naked through the house—something I never did—seemed natural with him. Chase didn’t know the old me, and this new Rachel, it seemed, had no inhibitions. I felt sexy, sensual. From the way his member pushed hard against his pants, to the way he grabbed my breasts on the way down the stairs, I felt powerful in a way I’d never felt before, not when it came to my own body.
We reached his room. He turned on the light, led me to the bed, then stood back to look at me. “You’re a goddess,” he said. There was need evident in his voice.
I reached for him, standing before me, and unbuckled his belt. He sighed, holding the back of my head, his fingers running through my hair as I unfastened his pants, too, and let them slide to the ground. He kicked off his shoes, stepped out of the slacks. The bulge in his designer boxers was massive. It nearly gave me pause.
“Touch it,” he growled. I reached a tentative hand toward it, nervous now. When I made contact, then rubbed, he groaned. I looked up, watching the way his jaw clenched when I rubbed it again.
“Take it out...” he commanded.
I slipped my fingers under the waistband, easing the shorts over his member. He sprang to attention when freed. It was the largest I’d ever encountered and I wondered briefly, excitedly, if I could handle him.
Without him asking, I wrapped my hand around the shaft, then guided him to my mouth.
“Oh, God... yes...” he moaned as my lips slid over the head. I couldn’t take him in, not entirely, instead relying on my hand to make up the difference. His eyes were closed, his breath coming short and fast as I pleasured him with my mouth and tongue. I listened for changes in his breathing. He liked it when I sucked the head while stroking the shaft; I did that again, working passionately as I bobbed up and down before him, sitting on the bed. His moans began to grow louder and louder.
“Stop!” he commanded urgently. He slid from my mouth as I felt the salty taste of his pre-issue slip upon my tongue. I’d had him on the verge of climax. A thrill ran through me, knowing how I’d pleased him. There was power in the giving of pleasure that I’d never known with Dan.
“Back. On the bed.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I pushed myself backward, using my arms and legs.
“On your hands and knees...” he growled.
I rolled over, getting up as he asked, and felt his hands as they roamed over my backside. I blushed. I’d always been self-conscious of its size, yet he seemed to love it. His breathing was fast again, just from touching me.
He spanked me, gently, and I yelped in surprise.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked.
“No... just shocked me.” It had actually felt good. “Do it again.”
This time he spanked harder, making me moan. I couldn’t believe how naughty this felt, how sexy. “Again!”
I moaned even louder, spreading my legs slightly. I could feel the heat building again, consuming me.
When he slid inside I cried out, marveling at how filled I felt at his thickness. Feeling him slide in—my toes literally curled in pleasure.
I glanced over my shoulder, meeting his eyes with mine. We were connected, completely. He pulled back, then thrusted forward. I cried out as I felt him penetrate deep within.
He fell into a rhythm, taking his time as he had all evening, building me. It was a slow rhythm to start with, but not boring. With every few thrusts, but never in a regular pattern, he’d smack me. The small sting would make me jump, and I’d tighten involuntarily. We would both moan in pleasure when I did. He filled me to my very depths, causing me to make sounds I’d never heard come from my own mouth.
Frantic sounds. Passionate sounds.
A groan escaped his throat as he began to speed up. He drove himself into me faster and faster. That familiar tension was building again and I welcomed it, worked for it.
I began to beg him, pushing my big butt back into him as his hands gripped me at my hips. Soon there was no rhythm except ‘fast,’ and his slams as he threw himself into me shook my whole body. I braced myself, hands planted forward, and screamed his name as I felt him swell inside me.
And then he was crying out, and his eruption was my own downfall, and our flesh was locked together as my hands gripped the bedsheets. I trembled as the waves subsided.
He slid from me. I collapsed onto the bed, rolling onto my back to look up at him. “That was wonderful,” I whispered.
“That was only Side A,” he grinned back. I looked at him, confused. He looked down to his still hard, erect member, and realization dawned.
“Well then bring on Side B,” I said, and opened my legs to him once more. He positioned himself above me, and then I felt him slide in once more.
“My God,” I moaned. My arms reached up to wrap around his shoulders.
He was pressed against me, our bodies touching as he rocked his hips back and forth. Our faces were inches from each other, and I kissed him, our eyes locked. Each thrust brought back a pleasure that had never really gone, not with him. I watched his face as he was slowly, slowly, consumed by the same bright demon. My hands roamed over him, touching everything I could reach; running over his hard chest, and a stomach that flexed with each thrust. Strong biceps were braced on either side of me. I turned my head, kissing those arms. His head lowered to take a nipple once more in his mouth.
All evening, our minds had connected. Now it was our bodies’ turn.
He sped up, thrusting harder. Faster. His hips rose and fell. I cried out, urging him on, begging for more as he rode me. I thrust my hips upward, meeting him again and again. His breathing became ragged, as mine did. The tension built and grew, both of us frenzied now, slamming ourselves against each other in a desperate need for release.
I screamed as familiar spasms wracked me once more. He joined me, roaring his own climax as it hit him. When we were done, his head fell to my shoulder. I held him to me, stroking his back. We were both breathless, sweaty, spent.
Our heartbeats slowed as we caught our breath. I pressed my lips to the side of his head and kissed him. “If there’s a Side C, so help me,” I whispered, panting, “I think my heart is going to actually burst.”