Justins Descent Part 1
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Just A Kiss. free porn video
They had made a bet when they won, she'd get a kiss. He didn't think they would win. She did. So they made that bet.
They didn't talk about what kind, so when they won, and he kissed her on the cheek, maybe he thought that was it.
It wasn't.
During the evening of celebration, she prepared to make her exit.
She said good night, and put something in his hand, and whispered in his ear as she hugged him goodbye.
"So I can claim my prize later," she said.
She felt herself blushing so she left without looking back to see his reaction. She wasn't normally that forward. But she felt she really had nothing left to lose.
An hour or two later she was in her pyjamas on the bed in her room, having a drink, with the television on in the background while she was writing.
She'd put the idea that he'd show up out of her mind because she was so sure he wouldn't. She was wearing a white t-shirt and soft cotton pyjama pants. She focused on the computer screen and pushed her glasses back up.
She glanced at the clock on the cable box. It was almost 1. If she'd allowed herself to be hopeful, she would have been disappointed. She closed her laptop and put it on the desk, pulled the clip out of her hair, and shut the lights off.
She sat against the headboard of the bed, finishing her drink, and found some bad horror movie on one of the cable channels. It was sort of a relief, she thought, that he didn't show up. She'd have been a nervous wreck.
She'd have to deal with the guessing games and try to figure out what he was thinking and feeling while beating herself up for what she felt.
Instead, she had the quiet night to herself, just enjoying the peace. She'd just finished her drink and was about to start getting ready for bed when she heard the key in the door. It was 1:30. She'd given him the key at 9. If she had any sort of self respect, she'd put the deadbolt on. But she didn't. Not when it came to him.
The irony was that she knew he'd be strangely impressed if she did lock him out. But she couldn't do it. He was still messing with the key, as one was likely to do after being out drinking for five hours. She stood on the other side of the door keeping him on ice for a few more minutes, smiling to herself.
Then she opened the door. "Hi," he said. He was smiling.
"Hi," she said.
She stepped back from the door to let him in. There was a couch in her room and he sat on it. "Were you sleeping?" he asked.
She sat on the other end of the couch.
"No," she said.
"You're up late," he said.
"So are you," she said.
"Would you believe it took me this long to get my nerve up to come here?" he asked.
She laughed.
"Nope," she said.
He laughed.
"You're right. But it was worth a shot," he said.
"I didn't know if I was going to or not. I was leaning toward not coming. But I waited until I left to decide," he said.
"I figured that," she said.
Her legs were pulled under her on the couch. She was looking into his eyes, trying not to look at his mouth, which was what she usually looked at.
"Plus, you had a lot to celebrate," she said.
"We. We had a lot to celebrate," he said.
She smiled.
"This wouldn't have happened without you," he said, saying her name. She really loved the way he said it. "Well, lucky for you, you didn't have to find out," she said.
He took her hand. She'd never felt his hand in hers before. "I'm serious. Really, that's why I came. We didn't get a chance to talk earlier. And you left so early," he said. She was glad to hear him say that's why he came. She really was so full of shit with her passing him the key, she realised. She couldn't handle anything more than this.
"Well, that means a lot to me. Thank you," she said, letting go of his hand.
"But it is so late, and you must be tired. You have to walk back to your hotel. I don't want to keep you," she said, standing up.
"Wait," he said, reaching for her wrist.
She closed her eyes for a second.
"What?" she said.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" he said.
She looked down at him.
"No. I'm letting you off the hook, though I appreciate the gesture," she said.
"Sit down," he said, still holding her wrist.
She sat.
"Did I ask to be let off the hook?" he said.
She had to look away from his eyes. His mouth.
"No, but I know you want to be," she said.
"Oh yeah?" he said.
There was a pause. "Look at me," he said.
"I can't," she said, keeping her eyes on the wall.
He reached out with his hand and turned her face to him. "How long have you known me? Would I ever do anything unless I really wanted to do it? Bet or not?" he asked.
"I know. I'm afraid though," she said.
"Of what?" he said.
"I don't know," she said.
Her heart was pounding.
"There's nothing to worry about," he said quietly. His hand holding her face ran through her hair absently, and she closed her eyes.
"It's just a kiss," he said.
She opened her eyes. She wanted to see his just before he did it. Her hands were shaking. He moved closer. He knew he was prolonging her anxiety. He was doing it on purpose. He looked at her mouth.
"Don't," she said.
"Shh," he said.
His hand moved back to her face, and still looking at her mouth, he ran his thumb across her lips, gently. His eyes followed it. She had to control herself from reaching out for his thumb with her tongue.
She didn't think she could take much more. She could barely breathe. She closed her eyes tightly. He could see it. See her body tense. See her struggling to breathe. "Look at me," he said.
She opened her eyes, and looked at his mouth again. This time it was her hand that moved to his face, to his mouth. His lips. With her forefinger she traced his lips, moving closer, her eyes staying on his mouth now. His hands moved to her sides, down, and to her hips, which moved up to his touch, inched closer to him on the couch. His fingers tightened on her hips as she moved them, moved closer to his mouth with hers, still touching his soft lips with her finger, then moving one hand, then the other, behind his neck.
She wasn't nervous. Wasn't scared anymore. His hands squeezed and let go of her hips, looked at her mouth, watching her lick her lips, caught her eyes, and saw no fear. Feeling her hips rise in his hands, rock slightly, and he moved closer. She wanted this. He wanted it too. Inching closer together.
Her fingers in his hair. "Do it," she whispered. His hand moved down to her thigh, now teasing her mouth with his, and to her knee, lifting her leg, and she wrapped it around him, as he moved his hand up her leg again and back to her hip.
She felt his mouth brush hers, and felt her eyes flutter, and he brushed her mouth once more, twice and then, then his mouth took hers. He kissed her.
Her mouth was so warm and soft. Her lips were full. Her head turned to the side so he was over her, kissing her, and her arms wrapped tighter around his neck, the kiss innocent so far, just kissing her lips. She thought she could feel the air crackling with electricity. He pulled away from her lips and returned, leaving her breathless, always focused on the tease, the wanting more, and she shifted, moving closer, his fingers digging into the small of her back as his mouth opened slightly and she felt it. And then all she could think was Oh. Oh yeah.
Felt his tongue gently, so gently, not letting go of her mouth now, find hers, and her leg tightened around him.
He heard her sigh into his mouth as their tongues found each other and he understood why. It changed the kiss. Changed it good. So good. Where before he was softly kissing her, his mouth got more aggressive. Before, he controlled the pace, controlled the kiss, but when he found her tongue, and their tongues met, he couldn't pull away anymore.
The kiss controlled him. Both of them. She kept her arms around his neck tightly because, honestly, she didn't trust them anywhere else. She could feel his dick getting harder as the kiss got harder. Warmer. Wetter. Taking on a grinding, seductive life of its own. His fingers dug into her back under her shirt now, into her bare skin. Scratching her.
Her chest was tightly against his now as her head was turned to the side, holding onto his neck like she was drowning, and their bodies couldn't have been more tightly together, his fingers letting go of her back and onto her sides, under her shirt.
Their tongues were deep now, so deep, their lips working together, and she lost where she was. His mouth worked hers aggressively, hard, and so good, feeling her hands in his hair, pulling it with her fists tightly in it, pulling his down, forcing his lips onto hers harder, harder. He felt his hands on her skin and knew he had to stop. Any further up, or down, and things were really going to get out of hand. His brain was overwhelmed with her mouth, her tongue, but he had to hold onto some form of control. He squeezed her sides. He could feel the warmth of her breasts just inches from his hands. It was bad. It was hard.
He pushed her down on her back on the couch and followed her mouth with his, and she was just as eager, pulling him back to her, not wanting to lose that heat, those lips. That tongue. His hand held her hip again as he leaned over her, him on his side next to her on the couch, always over her, on top of her, in charge, dominating the kiss, dominating her.
He knew that mattered for her, but he also knew he couldn't do it any other way. It was who they were.
Her hands left his neck and ran down his arms, and to his hips, and her fingers moved into the tops of jeans, under his shirt, feeling his warm skin, fluttering her eyes, and he pushed away from her mouth for a second, looking into her eyes. He stroked her mouth again with his thumb and this time she did lick it, kiss it, as he whispered.
"Just a kiss, remember. Just a kiss," he said. She nodded absently and pulled her hands reluctantly from his pants and back to his neck. While she wanted to rip his clothes off, she would have agreed to walk over hot coals at that moment -- anything to keep kissing him.
She knew he was struggling with it too, their tongues twirling together, their lips hungry, starving for each other, and his hand was again under her shirt. She put her hand over it, holding it in place. It felt warm and strong. She'd be better if she couldn't feel his dick, so hard, against her. Her pyjama pants were soft and thin.
There was almost nothing to keep it from pressing against her. She could feel it so big and hard against her thigh. If he moved anywhere else she wasn't sure what she would do. He pulled her leg up and around him again, moving his hand to hold her against him. She could feel his dick against her pussy now. "Don't," she whispered. But he liked it there, pushing himself against her.
He felt like a teenager pushing the line of where to stop, feeling forbidden and dirty, wanting to push her limits, wanting to make her say they shouldn't, say they should stop, and all the while his hands, his mouth, making her breathe heavy and hot, seeing her eyes, knowing, knowing in the end he could easily have her begging him not to stop instead. He knew he could do that. He looked at her nipples against her shirt. He knew it would be so bad to push her shirt up, see her, work her with his fingers, his tongue, he thought about the sound she would make if he held her nipple in his teeth. He thought about fucking her. He knew he could so easily turn her head inside out. Her body inside out.
But he wouldn't, even though thinking about how he had that power, how innocent yet dirty it made him feel, knowing the boundaries were right in front of them, and pushing himself against them made his dick even harder and she started to sigh more into his mouth. They kissed for an hour. An hour at least, her hips were grinding against his, both legs wrapped around him, and as hard as his dick was, he wanted to feel how wet she must be. He knew he couldn't. But the thought was driving him crazy. Her breathing was ragged. He was struggling to breathe too. She was whispering and murmuring his name, and his mouth moved from hers to her neck, and he felt her urging him on, he could feel her pressing her chest against him, feeling his hands moving up, his mouth moving down, and she actually thought she might explode.
That's when he stopped.
He looked into her eyes, and stroked her hair. "Just a kiss," he said. She closed her eyes and put her head back, trying to breathe. It wasn't easy. She knew he was right. But God, it was so hard to stop. "I don't want to stop," she said.
"But I will," she said. It had to be just a kiss. She didn't bet anything else. "Do you think this is easy for me?" he said. She looked down. "No," she whispered, smiling. And he laughed. "I should go. It...it ..Ah. I just should go," he said.
"Because if I stay, I'm not going to stop," he said. She bit her lower lip and her hips involuntarily writhed. "Stop doing that," he said.
He kissed her gently one more time. "Walk me to the door," he said. "I don't think I can walk," she whispered. "I'll help you," he said. Her knees were shaky, but she managed. They got to the hallway by the door.
"Now I just have to figure out what I'm going to do with this," he said, taking her hand and putting it on his hard dick. Her eyes fluttered and she moved her hand, stroking him there absently for a minute, and he leaned against the wall, leaning his head back, closing his eyes. Her hand held him, stroking still, squeezing and he pushed her away finally, banging his head on the wall behind him softly to clear his mind.
"You're going to do the same thing I'm going to do, with this, about five minutes after the door closes behind you," she said, taking his hand and putting it between her legs, holding her pussy through her pyjamas. So much for clearing his mind. It was so hot.
His fingers moved to trace her, and over and up, and he moved so quickly neither one of them had time to tell him he shouldn't - both his hands pulled her pajama pants down and his hand reached to find her naked pussy with his fingers.
"I'm sorry. I have to," he said.
And he did. Before he left, he needed to feel how wet she was. And he was rewarded with her, soaking, dripping wet. The gasp that ripped through her with his unexpected fingers moving over her, opening her, feeling her, was savage.
"Oh my God," he said. Feeling how wet he had made her was probably a mistake. He gently took his hand back, fixing her clothes, and she was still against the wall, the back of her hand over her eyes, trying to catch her breath again.
He pulled her hand away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that," he said. "No, you shouldn't have. That was very bad," she said, but she was smiling. Her voice was shuddery. "But now you really have to get the hell out of here because I can't wait even five minutes," she said.
He laughed. He wrapped his arms around her in a hug, pushing her against the wall, and kissed her softly and her hand stole down to his unbelievably hard dick, and her eyes trapped his with the naked heat and intensity in them. "You sure you want to leave?" she whispered. "I am not sure of anything. But I have to," he whispered. "Ok..." she said, smiling. He kissed her once more and pulled away, leaving her against the wall, leaning her head against it, sideways, and her hair was messy, and she looked at him, so sweet and hot, and it killed him to leave, but he had to. Had to. He opened the door and closed it behind him.
And leaned against the closed door in the hall. She leaned against the wall the very same way, both of them, head back, back against the wall, thinking of what just happened, what could have happened, about each other, unable to stop thinking about that kiss. A few minutes went by.
She just couldn't move. She wasn't sure what made her open the door again. Maybe it was the feeling of that electricity still in the air. But she opened it. And he was standing there. Not with his back against the door. Facing her, holding both hands on the doorframe. Waiting for her to open it again. She backed away, back into the room, their eyes locked. The stare unbreakable.
He walked into the room, far enough to turn around and close the door, and turn the deadbolt. They both stood, facing each other. Eyes to eyes. Waiting. Waiting. She held onto the dresser for support.
And then he broke.
He moved toward her, fast, throwing her over his shoulder and dropping her onto the bed. Crawling over her, his mouth found hers again, kissing her hard, all tongues, as their hands pulled and ripped at each others clothes, up and off and away, his mouth again on her neck, pushing her shirt up and out of the way, finding her hard nipples with his fingers, and hearing her sigh as she ripped through the buttons of his shirt, losing some along the way and down to the button of his jeans, rolling him over to pull them off and fighting him, pulling her body to him, stopping her, to kiss her again, and pull her nipple to his mouth.
His hot, wet mouth worked her nipple, his tongue teasing it and twirling around it, and her fingers did scratch his back now, holding on, and she tried to quiet herself but instead she was loud, so loud, it was too long and too much.
And she pushed his mouth away, and found it with hers and moved her mouth down his chest, pushing his shirt off, down to his jeans and pulling them off and everything out of the way to find his dick with her hands, her mouth, and he, he closed his eyes and arched his back as she swallowed him, starving, licking and sucking him. She was in blissful heaven giving him a blow job.
After kissing him, its all she ever wanted to do, on her knees, sucking him, working him with her tongue, making him crazy, hot, out of control, working his dick expertly with her mouth and tongue, teasing him with her fingers, moving down to take his balls in her mouth and work them with her tongue while she stroked his wet dick up and down with her hands and then taking him in her mouth again.
She twirled her mouth in a circle as she worked him in and out of her mouth and his fingers dug into the bed, making fists and she was getting wetter with his every reaction and just so hot from sucking his dick. Her brain was focused on just this, and she could feel herself starting to come from sucking him, feeling him get harder, working the tip of his dick with her tongue, circling it over and over, so sensitive, circling and circling until she knew he wanted to slide inside her mouth again, was waiting, but she kept circling and then, just beyond when she knew he wanted her to suck him down her throat again, she did, swallowing him, working her tongue back and forth under him, in and out of her hot mouth, her wet mouth, just a little faster, holding the base of his dick in her fingers, teasing it and stroking it whenever her mouth wasn't there.
He had completely lost control and could not think about anything but more of her mouth. It felt that fucking good. More. Faster. He felt dirty again, hot and dirty watching her and wanting her to do it more. They shouldn't be doing this, it was so bad. But it made it good. So good.
She shouldn't be sucking his dick until his eyes rolled back into his head. But she so fucking was. And watching her, he knew there was nothing he could have done to stop her. Faster she went now, so fast, and he could hear her and see that she was coming while she did it, and inched him closer, closer, closer, and in and out, in and out he slid of her mouth, her fingers stroking him, her mouth hot and wet, her tongue unstoppable, just a little faster, faster.
"Faster," he whispered and she smiled up at him. And went faster, so fast, faster, and he could feel it starting, rumbling inside him, his buried his fingers in her hair, and pulled so hard and she knew why, saving her hardest and fastest sucking for the end, harder, licking him in circles, fast, in and out and in and out, and then she could feel him shudder and shake and he came, came hard, and she held tightly to his thighs, keeping him as deep inside her mouth as she could while he came, coaxing him to keep coming with her tongue until they were both spent. Half-dressed, she crawled up next to him and lay on her back, her arm over her eyes, trying to catch her breath. Neither of them moved for a while. He heard her laugh softly to herself.
He leaned over her, his hand on her belly, resting there.
"That was bad," he said.
She looked into his eyes, hers still glazed over, ramped up.
"I know. It was. Really bad," she said.
"You shouldn't have done that," he said.
Her body moved under his hand.
"I know. I shouldn't have," she said. "You know what is even worse?" she said.
His fingers moved up her belly, up further, tracing her nipples under her shirt.
"What's that," he said.
"I want to do it again," she said.
"Oh yeah?" he said, his fingers teasing her nipples, squeezing them, watching her catch her breath.
"Yes....I would do nothing but suck your dick all night if you let me," she whispered, her eyes closed.
His eyes closed momentarily, and his hand froze on her nipple.
"That was a bad thing to say. You shouldn't have said that," he said.
"I'm a bad girl. I can't help it," she said.
"You are..I know you are," he whispered. He leaned down to take her mouth with his again. His mouth moved from hers as he pulled her shirt over her head. His tongue teased her nipple, his teeth holding it.
"Don't...we can stop now. We should stop now," she said. He looked her in the eye and knew. "You don't want me to stop. You want more," he said. Her breath caught in her throat as he pulled her pajama pants down and off. "No, I don't. We need to stop," she said. But as his fingers found her wet pussy again, her back arched and she sighed loudly.
"Ok...I'll stop...," he said, sliding his fingers inside her. "Now? You want me to stop now?" he said, moving them in and out, slowly. "No...no," she said. Her legs opened more, she bit her lower lip, rocking her hips. "See...that's not so bad...or is it?" he said.
"It's so bad," she said. "So bad."
He moved faster. Faster. Her body shook. "It is bad. You're right. But that's what you want," he said. "We shouldn't be doing this at all. Not at all. It is so wrong, so bad, so dirty," he said, faster now.
She couldn't talk anymore, just made sounds. Such hot sounds. Her eyes fluttered. "I shouldn't be making you come like this," he said.
That was it for her, and he covered her mouth because the moan was so loud as she came. And he couldn't wait. He wanted it now. He pulled her still shaking under him, lifted her hips, and thrust himself inside her as she was still shaking and recovering and was not prepared for it.
"No!" she sighed.
"Oh yeah," he said.
"Stop," she said, trying pathetically to stop him as he fucked her, fucked her hard. He loved her protests, knowing there was nothing behind them but her wanting to be taken. Harder he went, until she couldn't talk, couldn't protest anymore. Then he stopped. "You want me to stop now?" he said, smiling. "No! Nononono," she said.
He was about to move again.
"Are you sure?" he said.
"Fuck me," she whispered.
"You want me to fuck you?" he said. She moved up to his mouth. "We shouldn't....but oh fuck yeah fuck me...so bad," she whispered, licking his lips with her tongue. "You're a bad girl," he whispered.
He pushed her violently back down on the bed, and fucked her as hard and as fast as he could, and was pretty sure they woke up the floor but he didn't care and she was oblivious to everything but him. And as he watched her, arched back, nipples in the air, coming over and over, he felt it inside him and he whispered all the bad things he was thinking in her ear, sending her over the edge again as he came hard. Wrapped around him after, she whispered.
"You know that I didn't mean for this or expect this to happen -- all I really wanted was a kiss," she said. "Oh yeah?" he whispered back. She lifted herself to look into his eyes. She couldn't read his, as usual. "I mean it," she said.
He was quiet for a second, before rolling her onto her back and holding her eyes to his, body to body.
"Well, that makes one of us I guess, because, even as I was walking out the door earlier, I knew there was no fucking way I was leaving here with just a kiss," he said.
And she laughed into his mouth as he kissed her.
They didn't talk about what kind, so when they won, and he kissed her on the cheek, maybe he thought that was it.
It wasn't.
During the evening of celebration, she prepared to make her exit.
She said good night, and put something in his hand, and whispered in his ear as she hugged him goodbye.
"So I can claim my prize later," she said.
She felt herself blushing so she left without looking back to see his reaction. She wasn't normally that forward. But she felt she really had nothing left to lose.
An hour or two later she was in her pyjamas on the bed in her room, having a drink, with the television on in the background while she was writing.
She'd put the idea that he'd show up out of her mind because she was so sure he wouldn't. She was wearing a white t-shirt and soft cotton pyjama pants. She focused on the computer screen and pushed her glasses back up.
She glanced at the clock on the cable box. It was almost 1. If she'd allowed herself to be hopeful, she would have been disappointed. She closed her laptop and put it on the desk, pulled the clip out of her hair, and shut the lights off.
She sat against the headboard of the bed, finishing her drink, and found some bad horror movie on one of the cable channels. It was sort of a relief, she thought, that he didn't show up. She'd have been a nervous wreck.
She'd have to deal with the guessing games and try to figure out what he was thinking and feeling while beating herself up for what she felt.
Instead, she had the quiet night to herself, just enjoying the peace. She'd just finished her drink and was about to start getting ready for bed when she heard the key in the door. It was 1:30. She'd given him the key at 9. If she had any sort of self respect, she'd put the deadbolt on. But she didn't. Not when it came to him.
The irony was that she knew he'd be strangely impressed if she did lock him out. But she couldn't do it. He was still messing with the key, as one was likely to do after being out drinking for five hours. She stood on the other side of the door keeping him on ice for a few more minutes, smiling to herself.
Then she opened the door. "Hi," he said. He was smiling.
"Hi," she said.
She stepped back from the door to let him in. There was a couch in her room and he sat on it. "Were you sleeping?" he asked.
She sat on the other end of the couch.
"No," she said.
"You're up late," he said.
"So are you," she said.
"Would you believe it took me this long to get my nerve up to come here?" he asked.
She laughed.
"Nope," she said.
He laughed.
"You're right. But it was worth a shot," he said.
"I didn't know if I was going to or not. I was leaning toward not coming. But I waited until I left to decide," he said.
"I figured that," she said.
Her legs were pulled under her on the couch. She was looking into his eyes, trying not to look at his mouth, which was what she usually looked at.
"Plus, you had a lot to celebrate," she said.
"We. We had a lot to celebrate," he said.
She smiled.
"This wouldn't have happened without you," he said, saying her name. She really loved the way he said it. "Well, lucky for you, you didn't have to find out," she said.
He took her hand. She'd never felt his hand in hers before. "I'm serious. Really, that's why I came. We didn't get a chance to talk earlier. And you left so early," he said. She was glad to hear him say that's why he came. She really was so full of shit with her passing him the key, she realised. She couldn't handle anything more than this.
"Well, that means a lot to me. Thank you," she said, letting go of his hand.
"But it is so late, and you must be tired. You have to walk back to your hotel. I don't want to keep you," she said, standing up.
"Wait," he said, reaching for her wrist.
She closed her eyes for a second.
"What?" she said.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" he said.
She looked down at him.
"No. I'm letting you off the hook, though I appreciate the gesture," she said.
"Sit down," he said, still holding her wrist.
She sat.
"Did I ask to be let off the hook?" he said.
She had to look away from his eyes. His mouth.
"No, but I know you want to be," she said.
"Oh yeah?" he said.
There was a pause. "Look at me," he said.
"I can't," she said, keeping her eyes on the wall.
He reached out with his hand and turned her face to him. "How long have you known me? Would I ever do anything unless I really wanted to do it? Bet or not?" he asked.
"I know. I'm afraid though," she said.
"Of what?" he said.
"I don't know," she said.
Her heart was pounding.
"There's nothing to worry about," he said quietly. His hand holding her face ran through her hair absently, and she closed her eyes.
"It's just a kiss," he said.
She opened her eyes. She wanted to see his just before he did it. Her hands were shaking. He moved closer. He knew he was prolonging her anxiety. He was doing it on purpose. He looked at her mouth.
"Don't," she said.
"Shh," he said.
His hand moved back to her face, and still looking at her mouth, he ran his thumb across her lips, gently. His eyes followed it. She had to control herself from reaching out for his thumb with her tongue.
She didn't think she could take much more. She could barely breathe. She closed her eyes tightly. He could see it. See her body tense. See her struggling to breathe. "Look at me," he said.
She opened her eyes, and looked at his mouth again. This time it was her hand that moved to his face, to his mouth. His lips. With her forefinger she traced his lips, moving closer, her eyes staying on his mouth now. His hands moved to her sides, down, and to her hips, which moved up to his touch, inched closer to him on the couch. His fingers tightened on her hips as she moved them, moved closer to his mouth with hers, still touching his soft lips with her finger, then moving one hand, then the other, behind his neck.
She wasn't nervous. Wasn't scared anymore. His hands squeezed and let go of her hips, looked at her mouth, watching her lick her lips, caught her eyes, and saw no fear. Feeling her hips rise in his hands, rock slightly, and he moved closer. She wanted this. He wanted it too. Inching closer together.
Her fingers in his hair. "Do it," she whispered. His hand moved down to her thigh, now teasing her mouth with his, and to her knee, lifting her leg, and she wrapped it around him, as he moved his hand up her leg again and back to her hip.
She felt his mouth brush hers, and felt her eyes flutter, and he brushed her mouth once more, twice and then, then his mouth took hers. He kissed her.
Her mouth was so warm and soft. Her lips were full. Her head turned to the side so he was over her, kissing her, and her arms wrapped tighter around his neck, the kiss innocent so far, just kissing her lips. She thought she could feel the air crackling with electricity. He pulled away from her lips and returned, leaving her breathless, always focused on the tease, the wanting more, and she shifted, moving closer, his fingers digging into the small of her back as his mouth opened slightly and she felt it. And then all she could think was Oh. Oh yeah.
Felt his tongue gently, so gently, not letting go of her mouth now, find hers, and her leg tightened around him.
He heard her sigh into his mouth as their tongues found each other and he understood why. It changed the kiss. Changed it good. So good. Where before he was softly kissing her, his mouth got more aggressive. Before, he controlled the pace, controlled the kiss, but when he found her tongue, and their tongues met, he couldn't pull away anymore.
The kiss controlled him. Both of them. She kept her arms around his neck tightly because, honestly, she didn't trust them anywhere else. She could feel his dick getting harder as the kiss got harder. Warmer. Wetter. Taking on a grinding, seductive life of its own. His fingers dug into her back under her shirt now, into her bare skin. Scratching her.
Her chest was tightly against his now as her head was turned to the side, holding onto his neck like she was drowning, and their bodies couldn't have been more tightly together, his fingers letting go of her back and onto her sides, under her shirt.
Their tongues were deep now, so deep, their lips working together, and she lost where she was. His mouth worked hers aggressively, hard, and so good, feeling her hands in his hair, pulling it with her fists tightly in it, pulling his down, forcing his lips onto hers harder, harder. He felt his hands on her skin and knew he had to stop. Any further up, or down, and things were really going to get out of hand. His brain was overwhelmed with her mouth, her tongue, but he had to hold onto some form of control. He squeezed her sides. He could feel the warmth of her breasts just inches from his hands. It was bad. It was hard.
He pushed her down on her back on the couch and followed her mouth with his, and she was just as eager, pulling him back to her, not wanting to lose that heat, those lips. That tongue. His hand held her hip again as he leaned over her, him on his side next to her on the couch, always over her, on top of her, in charge, dominating the kiss, dominating her.
He knew that mattered for her, but he also knew he couldn't do it any other way. It was who they were.
Her hands left his neck and ran down his arms, and to his hips, and her fingers moved into the tops of jeans, under his shirt, feeling his warm skin, fluttering her eyes, and he pushed away from her mouth for a second, looking into her eyes. He stroked her mouth again with his thumb and this time she did lick it, kiss it, as he whispered.
"Just a kiss, remember. Just a kiss," he said. She nodded absently and pulled her hands reluctantly from his pants and back to his neck. While she wanted to rip his clothes off, she would have agreed to walk over hot coals at that moment -- anything to keep kissing him.
She knew he was struggling with it too, their tongues twirling together, their lips hungry, starving for each other, and his hand was again under her shirt. She put her hand over it, holding it in place. It felt warm and strong. She'd be better if she couldn't feel his dick, so hard, against her. Her pyjama pants were soft and thin.
There was almost nothing to keep it from pressing against her. She could feel it so big and hard against her thigh. If he moved anywhere else she wasn't sure what she would do. He pulled her leg up and around him again, moving his hand to hold her against him. She could feel his dick against her pussy now. "Don't," she whispered. But he liked it there, pushing himself against her.
He felt like a teenager pushing the line of where to stop, feeling forbidden and dirty, wanting to push her limits, wanting to make her say they shouldn't, say they should stop, and all the while his hands, his mouth, making her breathe heavy and hot, seeing her eyes, knowing, knowing in the end he could easily have her begging him not to stop instead. He knew he could do that. He looked at her nipples against her shirt. He knew it would be so bad to push her shirt up, see her, work her with his fingers, his tongue, he thought about the sound she would make if he held her nipple in his teeth. He thought about fucking her. He knew he could so easily turn her head inside out. Her body inside out.
But he wouldn't, even though thinking about how he had that power, how innocent yet dirty it made him feel, knowing the boundaries were right in front of them, and pushing himself against them made his dick even harder and she started to sigh more into his mouth. They kissed for an hour. An hour at least, her hips were grinding against his, both legs wrapped around him, and as hard as his dick was, he wanted to feel how wet she must be. He knew he couldn't. But the thought was driving him crazy. Her breathing was ragged. He was struggling to breathe too. She was whispering and murmuring his name, and his mouth moved from hers to her neck, and he felt her urging him on, he could feel her pressing her chest against him, feeling his hands moving up, his mouth moving down, and she actually thought she might explode.
That's when he stopped.
He looked into her eyes, and stroked her hair. "Just a kiss," he said. She closed her eyes and put her head back, trying to breathe. It wasn't easy. She knew he was right. But God, it was so hard to stop. "I don't want to stop," she said.
"But I will," she said. It had to be just a kiss. She didn't bet anything else. "Do you think this is easy for me?" he said. She looked down. "No," she whispered, smiling. And he laughed. "I should go. It...it ..Ah. I just should go," he said.
"Because if I stay, I'm not going to stop," he said. She bit her lower lip and her hips involuntarily writhed. "Stop doing that," he said.
He kissed her gently one more time. "Walk me to the door," he said. "I don't think I can walk," she whispered. "I'll help you," he said. Her knees were shaky, but she managed. They got to the hallway by the door.
"Now I just have to figure out what I'm going to do with this," he said, taking her hand and putting it on his hard dick. Her eyes fluttered and she moved her hand, stroking him there absently for a minute, and he leaned against the wall, leaning his head back, closing his eyes. Her hand held him, stroking still, squeezing and he pushed her away finally, banging his head on the wall behind him softly to clear his mind.
"You're going to do the same thing I'm going to do, with this, about five minutes after the door closes behind you," she said, taking his hand and putting it between her legs, holding her pussy through her pyjamas. So much for clearing his mind. It was so hot.
His fingers moved to trace her, and over and up, and he moved so quickly neither one of them had time to tell him he shouldn't - both his hands pulled her pajama pants down and his hand reached to find her naked pussy with his fingers.
"I'm sorry. I have to," he said.
And he did. Before he left, he needed to feel how wet she was. And he was rewarded with her, soaking, dripping wet. The gasp that ripped through her with his unexpected fingers moving over her, opening her, feeling her, was savage.
"Oh my God," he said. Feeling how wet he had made her was probably a mistake. He gently took his hand back, fixing her clothes, and she was still against the wall, the back of her hand over her eyes, trying to catch her breath again.
He pulled her hand away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that," he said. "No, you shouldn't have. That was very bad," she said, but she was smiling. Her voice was shuddery. "But now you really have to get the hell out of here because I can't wait even five minutes," she said.
He laughed. He wrapped his arms around her in a hug, pushing her against the wall, and kissed her softly and her hand stole down to his unbelievably hard dick, and her eyes trapped his with the naked heat and intensity in them. "You sure you want to leave?" she whispered. "I am not sure of anything. But I have to," he whispered. "Ok..." she said, smiling. He kissed her once more and pulled away, leaving her against the wall, leaning her head against it, sideways, and her hair was messy, and she looked at him, so sweet and hot, and it killed him to leave, but he had to. Had to. He opened the door and closed it behind him.
And leaned against the closed door in the hall. She leaned against the wall the very same way, both of them, head back, back against the wall, thinking of what just happened, what could have happened, about each other, unable to stop thinking about that kiss. A few minutes went by.
She just couldn't move. She wasn't sure what made her open the door again. Maybe it was the feeling of that electricity still in the air. But she opened it. And he was standing there. Not with his back against the door. Facing her, holding both hands on the doorframe. Waiting for her to open it again. She backed away, back into the room, their eyes locked. The stare unbreakable.
He walked into the room, far enough to turn around and close the door, and turn the deadbolt. They both stood, facing each other. Eyes to eyes. Waiting. Waiting. She held onto the dresser for support.
And then he broke.
He moved toward her, fast, throwing her over his shoulder and dropping her onto the bed. Crawling over her, his mouth found hers again, kissing her hard, all tongues, as their hands pulled and ripped at each others clothes, up and off and away, his mouth again on her neck, pushing her shirt up and out of the way, finding her hard nipples with his fingers, and hearing her sigh as she ripped through the buttons of his shirt, losing some along the way and down to the button of his jeans, rolling him over to pull them off and fighting him, pulling her body to him, stopping her, to kiss her again, and pull her nipple to his mouth.
His hot, wet mouth worked her nipple, his tongue teasing it and twirling around it, and her fingers did scratch his back now, holding on, and she tried to quiet herself but instead she was loud, so loud, it was too long and too much.
And she pushed his mouth away, and found it with hers and moved her mouth down his chest, pushing his shirt off, down to his jeans and pulling them off and everything out of the way to find his dick with her hands, her mouth, and he, he closed his eyes and arched his back as she swallowed him, starving, licking and sucking him. She was in blissful heaven giving him a blow job.
After kissing him, its all she ever wanted to do, on her knees, sucking him, working him with her tongue, making him crazy, hot, out of control, working his dick expertly with her mouth and tongue, teasing him with her fingers, moving down to take his balls in her mouth and work them with her tongue while she stroked his wet dick up and down with her hands and then taking him in her mouth again.
She twirled her mouth in a circle as she worked him in and out of her mouth and his fingers dug into the bed, making fists and she was getting wetter with his every reaction and just so hot from sucking his dick. Her brain was focused on just this, and she could feel herself starting to come from sucking him, feeling him get harder, working the tip of his dick with her tongue, circling it over and over, so sensitive, circling and circling until she knew he wanted to slide inside her mouth again, was waiting, but she kept circling and then, just beyond when she knew he wanted her to suck him down her throat again, she did, swallowing him, working her tongue back and forth under him, in and out of her hot mouth, her wet mouth, just a little faster, holding the base of his dick in her fingers, teasing it and stroking it whenever her mouth wasn't there.
He had completely lost control and could not think about anything but more of her mouth. It felt that fucking good. More. Faster. He felt dirty again, hot and dirty watching her and wanting her to do it more. They shouldn't be doing this, it was so bad. But it made it good. So good.
She shouldn't be sucking his dick until his eyes rolled back into his head. But she so fucking was. And watching her, he knew there was nothing he could have done to stop her. Faster she went now, so fast, and he could hear her and see that she was coming while she did it, and inched him closer, closer, closer, and in and out, in and out he slid of her mouth, her fingers stroking him, her mouth hot and wet, her tongue unstoppable, just a little faster, faster.
"Faster," he whispered and she smiled up at him. And went faster, so fast, faster, and he could feel it starting, rumbling inside him, his buried his fingers in her hair, and pulled so hard and she knew why, saving her hardest and fastest sucking for the end, harder, licking him in circles, fast, in and out and in and out, and then she could feel him shudder and shake and he came, came hard, and she held tightly to his thighs, keeping him as deep inside her mouth as she could while he came, coaxing him to keep coming with her tongue until they were both spent. Half-dressed, she crawled up next to him and lay on her back, her arm over her eyes, trying to catch her breath. Neither of them moved for a while. He heard her laugh softly to herself.
He leaned over her, his hand on her belly, resting there.
"That was bad," he said.
She looked into his eyes, hers still glazed over, ramped up.
"I know. It was. Really bad," she said.
"You shouldn't have done that," he said.
Her body moved under his hand.
"I know. I shouldn't have," she said. "You know what is even worse?" she said.
His fingers moved up her belly, up further, tracing her nipples under her shirt.
"What's that," he said.
"I want to do it again," she said.
"Oh yeah?" he said, his fingers teasing her nipples, squeezing them, watching her catch her breath.
"Yes....I would do nothing but suck your dick all night if you let me," she whispered, her eyes closed.
His eyes closed momentarily, and his hand froze on her nipple.
"That was a bad thing to say. You shouldn't have said that," he said.
"I'm a bad girl. I can't help it," she said.
"You are..I know you are," he whispered. He leaned down to take her mouth with his again. His mouth moved from hers as he pulled her shirt over her head. His tongue teased her nipple, his teeth holding it.
"Don't...we can stop now. We should stop now," she said. He looked her in the eye and knew. "You don't want me to stop. You want more," he said. Her breath caught in her throat as he pulled her pajama pants down and off. "No, I don't. We need to stop," she said. But as his fingers found her wet pussy again, her back arched and she sighed loudly.
"Ok...I'll stop...," he said, sliding his fingers inside her. "Now? You want me to stop now?" he said, moving them in and out, slowly. "No...no," she said. Her legs opened more, she bit her lower lip, rocking her hips. "See...that's not so bad...or is it?" he said.
"It's so bad," she said. "So bad."
He moved faster. Faster. Her body shook. "It is bad. You're right. But that's what you want," he said. "We shouldn't be doing this at all. Not at all. It is so wrong, so bad, so dirty," he said, faster now.
She couldn't talk anymore, just made sounds. Such hot sounds. Her eyes fluttered. "I shouldn't be making you come like this," he said.
That was it for her, and he covered her mouth because the moan was so loud as she came. And he couldn't wait. He wanted it now. He pulled her still shaking under him, lifted her hips, and thrust himself inside her as she was still shaking and recovering and was not prepared for it.
"No!" she sighed.
"Oh yeah," he said.
"Stop," she said, trying pathetically to stop him as he fucked her, fucked her hard. He loved her protests, knowing there was nothing behind them but her wanting to be taken. Harder he went, until she couldn't talk, couldn't protest anymore. Then he stopped. "You want me to stop now?" he said, smiling. "No! Nononono," she said.
He was about to move again.
"Are you sure?" he said.
"Fuck me," she whispered.
"You want me to fuck you?" he said. She moved up to his mouth. "We shouldn't....but oh fuck yeah fuck me...so bad," she whispered, licking his lips with her tongue. "You're a bad girl," he whispered.
He pushed her violently back down on the bed, and fucked her as hard and as fast as he could, and was pretty sure they woke up the floor but he didn't care and she was oblivious to everything but him. And as he watched her, arched back, nipples in the air, coming over and over, he felt it inside him and he whispered all the bad things he was thinking in her ear, sending her over the edge again as he came hard. Wrapped around him after, she whispered.
"You know that I didn't mean for this or expect this to happen -- all I really wanted was a kiss," she said. "Oh yeah?" he whispered back. She lifted herself to look into his eyes. She couldn't read his, as usual. "I mean it," she said.
He was quiet for a second, before rolling her onto her back and holding her eyes to his, body to body.
"Well, that makes one of us I guess, because, even as I was walking out the door earlier, I knew there was no fucking way I was leaving here with just a kiss," he said.
And she laughed into his mouth as he kissed her.
Gert
- 22.06.2022
- 40
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