TheYNC
- 1 year ago
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“Want me?”
It was a sentiment he heard during night and day dreams. Those words alternated in his wandering thoughts like switches in a circuit that were powered by his lust for her; conquering him during sleep was no longer enough.
He knew when she was on her way. Her arrival was preceded with a sensation that left his skin tingling, as if needle after needle pricked his feverish skin.
Bleary eyes fluttered in fervor. It took only a reminder. His relapse could be caused at times by a clicking of heels on tile, the incessant drum-tap of fingernails on desk, something as simple as a swish of fabric out of the corner of his eye. A feather, like her earrings. Cinnamon, the color of her skin. He did want her. So badly he felt for the first time that he could kill someone if they stood in his way. She crawled from his fingertips down to the rapidly coiling arousal deep within him, retracing her routes with electrifying intensity when his thoughts grew hungrier.
He hated and loved all at once how such power rested in her sensually cunning hands. Please stop, he wanted to cry out. You’re torturing me, killing me just with the idea of you. But his half-hearted pleas would fall on no listening ear, for this was a hell he had created for himself.
And there, as if beckoned from the confines of his mind, she appeared kneeling before him, dark and arrogantly sultry as she reached out to remove his hood. In his naiveté he once referred to her as angelic, but he knew her to be far more mortal now. She pushed the jacket from his shoulders and tugged at the hem of his shirt. He took the hint and lifted his arms clumsily; their gaze met as she tossed the vest to the floor and spread herself across his bed. His eyes swept over that grinning face and the rest of her. A well-fit navy brassiere with argyle socks and underwear. Cheeky tonight. He was too lustful to greet her with words. So was she. He wanted to ask if she was his imagination going mad, but figured he would find out soon enough.
His larger hands locked hers roughly behind her back, and with one last longing kiss they began their nocturne ritual. He quickly unfettered her to pull down his boxers. She wriggled out of his grip. He had been anticipating that all along. Her legs straddled his waist but it only took one hard maneuver to get her under him.
Yet she didn’t resist. This succubine dance never failed to keep him riveted. Dark eyes exotic and piercing calculated his every motion. He released his grip over her wrists and licked his lips to relieve their sudden dryness.
“Off with this for me,” came his mumbled request into her neck. That deep accented voice vibrated into her skin. She could not count the instances where that voice alone made her toes curl. Strong, calloused fingers strummed at her bra straps before sliding one off her shoulders and kissing them. He left the rest to her. She arched forth from the bed and reached underneath her back, undoing her restraints with captivating ease.
Her hands guided his eye’s line of sight from the one dangling magenta strap down to the tartan half-moon cups that clung tightly to her chest. His breath hitched as her bra fell from her entirely and went to hang on the bedpost. His head cocked as he gazed at the younger woman beneath him, far more pleased with his handiwork than he let show.
Two dark-nippled breasts stared him as smugly in the face as she did. His fingers traced their underside and gave one a gentle squeeze, soliciting a giggle from her that was far from innocent. So she liked to be teased as much as she rationed it out. Well, perhaps it was time to reciprocate all of those times she had failed to see things through on purpose. And tonight seemed the perfect opportunity. She was not bucking or squirming, escaping or running this time. He would not let her.
In one fluid movement, he drew an arm underneath her to lave her pebbled peaks with tongue and none-too-gentle nibbles of teeth. She whimpered on impact: a sound that sent desire raging throughout his lower body and stiffened more than his spine.
“Mmmmm!” She moaned hungrily under his exploring lips, her hands roaming over his head and along his neck. He so wanted to allow the pleasure of her touch. But after the last time that she stranded him handcuffed to his bedpost… he was taking no chances with her. Though the panties he’d managed to keep were a nice consolation prize.
Venturing upon the curve of her straining neck, he reached up for the strappy restraints with one hand, whilst testing her derriere’s firmness with the other.
What was he up to, she mused between hazes of lip-induced euphoria. At times his hands or tongue left her, and she would want to open her eyes, but before curiosity could get the better he’d just send her into la-la-land again with that mouth of his.
God, could he kiss. His lips were crafted specifically for her. They were deliciously pliant, sliding over inch by inch of skin with a perfect equilibrium of sucking and licking. In all honesty this prelude alone warranted enough for a climax; that much power existed within his grasp and she was sure he was aware of it as well. But he was insatiable tonight. It would take that and more to satisfy him.
“Mmmm…_____.”
The words and the rumble of his voice made her tingle in all of the right areas. He rarely used her full name, and she never allowed him enough air to speak her shortened one. He pressed another line of blazing kisses along her collarbone and she felt him draw back slightly, as if he were contemplating or unsure.
A finger strayed between her breasts and was soon joined by four more before they charted a course downward, over navels and across hips and trembling thighs. He made her sigh as he stroked her skin from waist to ankle, gave her chills as his forearm slid to place her leg against his slowly thrusting hips.
“_______” she whispered before the urge was containable. He swore gently to himself.
“…Say it again, for me.” Want rendered him hoarse and the arm around her waist pulled her in closer.
“____-____,” she repeated with a breathy inflection on the second syllable, and as she opened her eyes to see him, the sight made them widen to their largest degree. He was securing her wrists together with the bra she previously removed. A grin spread across her face. He knew how to play the game too.
It was a haphazardly fashioned manacle, and if she could slip handcuffs it would certainly be no mean feat to escape these. Then again...she rather enjoyed the challenge he had created for her. He had to know she were perfectly capable of freeing herself. So he sought to make her obedient by willpower, not by force. Such a tricky lover, but a thoughtful one as well.
He found her smile returned twofold as she threw her bound arms around his neck and slanted her lips over his. Their tongues, a parallel for other actions. And actions he couldn’t wait to perform.
Retrieving his tongue from under hers with a quiet groan, he maneuvered out of her arms and slid down her body. His kisses toiled over the bits of skin fingers had missed. Her tied hands tentatively touched his head as if prepared for reproof, and he looked up at her with fire in his eyes.
“I never said don’t use them at all.”
His mouth was pressed to her moistened argyle undies. At this her hands full-on shoved him betwixt her thighs.
“Impatient lady, you are.”
“Jedi, you are not,” she retorted smugly, and he laughed at her reference while setting about removing her underwear from her longer legs. She made things difficult, as always, but he never backed down from her challenges. He softly sank his teeth into her calf for her trouble, and began to lick it on the way to higher areas as well.
Her body became a ticking time bomb the closer he got to her center, hidden by tightening thighs. Taking them and spreading them gently, his fingers nudged aside apart the petals of her lower lips. And before she could even register it, he began giving a great, long lick. Her legs extended with a kick as they d****d over his shoulders. A moan, sweet and wild and bubbly, echoed out into the dark room.
He was not anticipating a reaction like that, but the immediacy of his lower body’s rejoinder and the gulp he had to take soon after owed to it being a good one. He closed his eyes and basked in the scent of her fresh arousal, finding it terrifically erotic that she had already began to cover his tongue with her taste. His fingers were no stranger to her warmth either.
She became a mustang under his touch, and soon he found himself with his arms gripping her legs apart to hold her still enough; he didn’t want to fully subdue her, never. She groaned his name as if he were a d**g she had no desire or hope to quit, and he smiled. They were even on that then.
Her moans transitioned into pleading whimpers as he used his elbows for support and pulled her in to penetrate deeper with his pointer finger.
She full-on jerked at this venture, cursing him passionately for his calloused hands. He was so shocked he slowed down.
“Ohhhh, so fucking good,” she said breathily. He shook his head and sucked obligingly on her swollen pearl. Her head thrashed back and forth upon his bed, her curly brown Afro an earth-toned halo against rumpled beige sheets.
It was a sentiment he heard during night and day dreams. Those words alternated in his wandering thoughts like switches in a circuit that were powered by his lust for her; conquering him during sleep was no longer enough.
He knew when she was on her way. Her arrival was preceded with a sensation that left his skin tingling, as if needle after needle pricked his feverish skin.
Bleary eyes fluttered in fervor. It took only a reminder. His relapse could be caused at times by a clicking of heels on tile, the incessant drum-tap of fingernails on desk, something as simple as a swish of fabric out of the corner of his eye. A feather, like her earrings. Cinnamon, the color of her skin. He did want her. So badly he felt for the first time that he could kill someone if they stood in his way. She crawled from his fingertips down to the rapidly coiling arousal deep within him, retracing her routes with electrifying intensity when his thoughts grew hungrier.
He hated and loved all at once how such power rested in her sensually cunning hands. Please stop, he wanted to cry out. You’re torturing me, killing me just with the idea of you. But his half-hearted pleas would fall on no listening ear, for this was a hell he had created for himself.
And there, as if beckoned from the confines of his mind, she appeared kneeling before him, dark and arrogantly sultry as she reached out to remove his hood. In his naiveté he once referred to her as angelic, but he knew her to be far more mortal now. She pushed the jacket from his shoulders and tugged at the hem of his shirt. He took the hint and lifted his arms clumsily; their gaze met as she tossed the vest to the floor and spread herself across his bed. His eyes swept over that grinning face and the rest of her. A well-fit navy brassiere with argyle socks and underwear. Cheeky tonight. He was too lustful to greet her with words. So was she. He wanted to ask if she was his imagination going mad, but figured he would find out soon enough.
His larger hands locked hers roughly behind her back, and with one last longing kiss they began their nocturne ritual. He quickly unfettered her to pull down his boxers. She wriggled out of his grip. He had been anticipating that all along. Her legs straddled his waist but it only took one hard maneuver to get her under him.
Yet she didn’t resist. This succubine dance never failed to keep him riveted. Dark eyes exotic and piercing calculated his every motion. He released his grip over her wrists and licked his lips to relieve their sudden dryness.
“Off with this for me,” came his mumbled request into her neck. That deep accented voice vibrated into her skin. She could not count the instances where that voice alone made her toes curl. Strong, calloused fingers strummed at her bra straps before sliding one off her shoulders and kissing them. He left the rest to her. She arched forth from the bed and reached underneath her back, undoing her restraints with captivating ease.
Her hands guided his eye’s line of sight from the one dangling magenta strap down to the tartan half-moon cups that clung tightly to her chest. His breath hitched as her bra fell from her entirely and went to hang on the bedpost. His head cocked as he gazed at the younger woman beneath him, far more pleased with his handiwork than he let show.
Two dark-nippled breasts stared him as smugly in the face as she did. His fingers traced their underside and gave one a gentle squeeze, soliciting a giggle from her that was far from innocent. So she liked to be teased as much as she rationed it out. Well, perhaps it was time to reciprocate all of those times she had failed to see things through on purpose. And tonight seemed the perfect opportunity. She was not bucking or squirming, escaping or running this time. He would not let her.
In one fluid movement, he drew an arm underneath her to lave her pebbled peaks with tongue and none-too-gentle nibbles of teeth. She whimpered on impact: a sound that sent desire raging throughout his lower body and stiffened more than his spine.
“Mmmmm!” She moaned hungrily under his exploring lips, her hands roaming over his head and along his neck. He so wanted to allow the pleasure of her touch. But after the last time that she stranded him handcuffed to his bedpost… he was taking no chances with her. Though the panties he’d managed to keep were a nice consolation prize.
Venturing upon the curve of her straining neck, he reached up for the strappy restraints with one hand, whilst testing her derriere’s firmness with the other.
What was he up to, she mused between hazes of lip-induced euphoria. At times his hands or tongue left her, and she would want to open her eyes, but before curiosity could get the better he’d just send her into la-la-land again with that mouth of his.
God, could he kiss. His lips were crafted specifically for her. They were deliciously pliant, sliding over inch by inch of skin with a perfect equilibrium of sucking and licking. In all honesty this prelude alone warranted enough for a climax; that much power existed within his grasp and she was sure he was aware of it as well. But he was insatiable tonight. It would take that and more to satisfy him.
“Mmmm…_____.”
The words and the rumble of his voice made her tingle in all of the right areas. He rarely used her full name, and she never allowed him enough air to speak her shortened one. He pressed another line of blazing kisses along her collarbone and she felt him draw back slightly, as if he were contemplating or unsure.
A finger strayed between her breasts and was soon joined by four more before they charted a course downward, over navels and across hips and trembling thighs. He made her sigh as he stroked her skin from waist to ankle, gave her chills as his forearm slid to place her leg against his slowly thrusting hips.
“_______” she whispered before the urge was containable. He swore gently to himself.
“…Say it again, for me.” Want rendered him hoarse and the arm around her waist pulled her in closer.
“____-____,” she repeated with a breathy inflection on the second syllable, and as she opened her eyes to see him, the sight made them widen to their largest degree. He was securing her wrists together with the bra she previously removed. A grin spread across her face. He knew how to play the game too.
It was a haphazardly fashioned manacle, and if she could slip handcuffs it would certainly be no mean feat to escape these. Then again...she rather enjoyed the challenge he had created for her. He had to know she were perfectly capable of freeing herself. So he sought to make her obedient by willpower, not by force. Such a tricky lover, but a thoughtful one as well.
He found her smile returned twofold as she threw her bound arms around his neck and slanted her lips over his. Their tongues, a parallel for other actions. And actions he couldn’t wait to perform.
Retrieving his tongue from under hers with a quiet groan, he maneuvered out of her arms and slid down her body. His kisses toiled over the bits of skin fingers had missed. Her tied hands tentatively touched his head as if prepared for reproof, and he looked up at her with fire in his eyes.
“I never said don’t use them at all.”
His mouth was pressed to her moistened argyle undies. At this her hands full-on shoved him betwixt her thighs.
“Impatient lady, you are.”
“Jedi, you are not,” she retorted smugly, and he laughed at her reference while setting about removing her underwear from her longer legs. She made things difficult, as always, but he never backed down from her challenges. He softly sank his teeth into her calf for her trouble, and began to lick it on the way to higher areas as well.
Her body became a ticking time bomb the closer he got to her center, hidden by tightening thighs. Taking them and spreading them gently, his fingers nudged aside apart the petals of her lower lips. And before she could even register it, he began giving a great, long lick. Her legs extended with a kick as they d****d over his shoulders. A moan, sweet and wild and bubbly, echoed out into the dark room.
He was not anticipating a reaction like that, but the immediacy of his lower body’s rejoinder and the gulp he had to take soon after owed to it being a good one. He closed his eyes and basked in the scent of her fresh arousal, finding it terrifically erotic that she had already began to cover his tongue with her taste. His fingers were no stranger to her warmth either.
She became a mustang under his touch, and soon he found himself with his arms gripping her legs apart to hold her still enough; he didn’t want to fully subdue her, never. She groaned his name as if he were a d**g she had no desire or hope to quit, and he smiled. They were even on that then.
Her moans transitioned into pleading whimpers as he used his elbows for support and pulled her in to penetrate deeper with his pointer finger.
She full-on jerked at this venture, cursing him passionately for his calloused hands. He was so shocked he slowed down.
“Ohhhh, so fucking good,” she said breathily. He shook his head and sucked obligingly on her swollen pearl. Her head thrashed back and forth upon his bed, her curly brown Afro an earth-toned halo against rumpled beige sheets.
Libbie
- 11.08.2021
- 10
- 0
