Garrett held onto Amanda’s hips as she nibbled his earlobe, pulling her more firmly across his lap. She rewarded him with such a small, needy moan that his lips lifted on their own accord to push against her cotton-covered sex. They’d been like this for what seemed like hours. If only she understood the painful yearning he had to be inside of her.
Supple white skin shook beneath his hands as they slipped beneath her sundress. Fingers sunk into the very last inch of flesh on her thigh as her warm, wide mouth left hot imprints on his throat; teeth nipped at his adam’s apple; he spread her wider.
Amanda pulled back as his hands gripped her half-bare cheeks. He didn’t want her to tell him to stop. His cock had ached for her for months.
“Gar…” Hesitance, a small undertone of fear in her voice.
Shushing her, his hands smoothed up her back, and his mouth played along her collarbones, up the side of her neck. Pressing his teeth at the tender spot under jaw made her convulse over him—gyrating them together in unison.
“I’ll be gentle.” He made his voice low and grumbling, and he could smell her desire now. Garrett needed only to push her over that edge of wanting.
She hesitated again, and he took his chance to give her that push. Circling his thumb between her lips, around her clit over her panties. Her hands sank into the couch behind him as she whimpered. Amanda loved to come, more so than any other girl he’d been with; if he could just take her pesky virginity, neither of them would be left wanting.
Garrett pulled her mouth down to his, plunging his tongue inside of her and twisting her loose black hair in his hand, and she rewarded him with another shaking convulsion.
Winding her up didn’t take him long.
His fingers found the edges of her panties, snaking them down her hips as he struggled to keep her mouth over his. But as soon as he had them half way down her thighs, she stood and pulled away from him.
Earnest need radiated between them both, and his cock jerked as she let the panties fall to her ankles instead of pulling them back into place. Amanda didn’t move. She peered at him like an innocent deity—his very own Persephone.
“Come here. I won’t hurt you. We’ll go slow.”
Garrett reached out to her, and she took his hand, slowly crawling back onto his lap. She trembled—fear, anticipation, wanting. He didn’t know, but he felt it all. All he could think of was that she would finally be entirely his.
Reaching between them, he popped open his jeans, slid them down his hips to gather at his knees before he led her forward. Starless midnight eyes searched his as her wet flesh cupped him, sliding along his thickness, the head of his cock catching at the apex of her lips.
He wanted to watch her move over him, but he wouldn’t look away until she did. Deeper and deeper, he fell into her soulful gaze. Claim of her—he wanted complete claim over her, and he allowed her to see that inside of him.
Amanda broke their gaze first, her hands hastily pulling at his shirt, fighting with it until she tore it over his head. Warmth danced along his chest as her hands explored him—scraping at his chest hair, pulling at his nipples, nails and fingertips finding every line of his torso.
Garrett’s cock caught at her entrance, making Amanda freeze. Holding her body still with his wide hands, he rubbed himself there, putting pressure on her inner lips without entering her. Spreading her thighs, he pushed his head inside of her, still careful of her hymen. Her muscles clamped down briefly before she relaxed.
She whispered his name, unable to move even as her arousal seeped from her and down his cock, trailing a line all the way to his base and over his sac.
Sanity slipped from him, and he pushed himself up into her in one smooth thrust. Her entire body clamped down on him, nearly tearing all of his pleasure from him right then.
Shushing her, he coaxed her to relax, his thumb back at her clit to override her pain with the pleasure he knew he could give her. As her body opened to him, he began a rocking thrust and kissed the tears around her eyes away.
The pain in her eyes tore at him, and he resolved to be sure she didn’t remember it by the end of this.
His thrusts gained speed and elongation until his hips rolled off the couch and against her. Whimpers of pleasure fell from her mouth again as she leaned into him, resuming her earlier exploration, and her hips tipped to sharper his entrance into her. God, how she tightened around him, gripped him as her pleasure grew.
He felt the change in her, and her hips moved in search of her orgasm—exactly what he needed to find his own. Garrett found her mouth and kissed her like he had the first time.
Cock curving harder, he slammed himself against the very depths of her until she imploded, sucking him into her, and yanking the twisting pleasure from his body. A sheet of chills fell over him as they rocked and spasmed together. Her nails sunk into his shoulders, latched onto him.
And he finally had the courage to call her his.
Wonderful erotic definition and such a fresh way to present it.
There were lots of photos I could have used for this, many involving bondage, but this is the one that appealed to me. It feels a little playful, eager and suggests the excitement and willingness implied by obedience rather than bondage. Have fun and have a Merry Christmas Eve. As always, Will Crimson.
Beatrice leaned over the sink in the guest bathroom. An over-the-top dinner party churned in the large dinning and living rooms just across the hall. She’d walked up behind her husband as he spoke with his boss and whispered in his ear. “Bathroom, ten minutes.” Her hand swiped down and grabbed a handful of his ass before she’d slipped away.
Now, she waited. He had less than a minute to meet the deadline, and she’d dismissed three party guests from entering already. She touched up her lip-gloss in the mirror as a knock reverberated softly through the oversized bathroom.
“Pineapple,” she called—their code word.
The door clicked open and closed again before she saw Chet’s dark blue suit in the mirror, his hands as they appeared on her hips over her simple black dress. His icy blue eyes looked at her reflection as he kissed the side of her neck.
A smile filled out her features as warmth bloomed down her belly. Her dress gathered in his hands as the hem inched its way up her thighs. Beatrice smoothed her gloss and put her applicator back in her clutch on the counter, gasping as her husband shoved his trouser-covered-erection against her bare ass cheeks.
“Let’s just get these out of the way, darling.” Her panties dropped down her thighs to a tiny puddle of cloth around her feet before Chet bent, gathered them in his large hand, and hid them away in his jacket pocket.
Moisture gathered between her thighs as his hands found her bare legs, just above her knees, where he lifted her onto the edge of the counter. The cold of the marble burned her knees and rose up into that triangle between them.
Heat combated the cold as her husband bent and drew his tongue over her folds. Her hands found the mirror, and she arched her back, lifting her hips and butt, and Chet rewarded her with another slow, wide swipe from his tongue. Beatrice’s nipples hardened against the loose fabric of her dress as the tip of his tongue broke the seal of her folds completely.
“Spread them wider for me, give me access.” His warm hands found her waist and pushed her lower, spreading her legs so that barely an inch separated her sex form the marble counter.
Tightness gathered in her limbs, and she couldn’t be sure how long she could keep this way. But her compliance rewarded her with the fat head of his cock and his soft groan as he worked his way inside of her.
Beatrice tried to relax for him, but his sharp thrusts made her body ripple. He filled her so completely and then some. She could barely breathe through the pleasure, her body shaking until the moment he’d buried himself completely inside of her. A low moan ripped form her as her body convulsed around him, drenching them both in the wetness of her first orgasm.
Chet’s hand appeared on the mirror beside hers, his other gripping her, holding her steady as rammed his hips against hers, hitting the very end of her with each stroke. The bouncing of their movements warmed the muscles in her thighs and hips so that she could roll herself with him, over him, sharpening the angles of her penetration.
His hips slowed as hers gained momentum, and she watched him lean back to watch her ass bounce. When his gaze met hers in the mirror, the wanton heat behind the ice in his eyes made her crazy, sent her hips in circles. And his gaze fell, back to watching her move.
“Yes, sweetheart, ride me.”
Chet’s cock jerked inside her to show her his approval. His hand smoothed up her body under her dress, fingertips across her stomach, over her ribs, cupping the underside of her breast. Rolling his thumb over her nipple sent a shudder through her and renewed her attentions to the way cock opened and filled her, stretching with each rotation. Beatrice’s orgasm built again, making her hungry for his.
A large hand cupped her throat, not squeezing, but controlling and stabilizing her. Chet drew her back from the mirror, sharpening the curve of her back. His mouth appeared at her ear as he thrust into with renewed. “Come on me, make me come with you.”
A jangle of the doorknob vibrated a low moan from her chest. She gulped, twice, before she hoarsely called, “Occupied.”
Beatrice couldn’t keep her moans in any longer with her husband pounding his hips against her ass as he was, his head scraping and striking at her womb. The intense pleasure shook her, but she held on as long as she could, squeezing and squeezing.
“Take me with you,” Chet ground out in her ear again.
And she obeyed. With a great convulsion, she clamped down around her husband, milking him as his rush of pleasure filled her.
She collapsed against the mirror; Chet’s hands roamed her body once more, moving downwards as he ground himself against her. His smile spread across her shoulder before he laid down a kiss and eased her aching legs down and her feet to the floor. Her dress lowered around their joining. Still filled with him, she gasped, the tendrils of her orgasms latched onto her.
Husky and deep, her husband’s voice caressed her along with the ghost of their pleasure. “Brilliant as always, sweetheart.”