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“Jeff, how did we get here?” you ask, as you lay on my bed, hands still cuffed, the spreader bar still between your ankles, satisfaction in your voice, languor in your pose; your eyes half shut, and your skin shiny with sweat and cum, yours and mine. Here is my answer.
“You and I, Emma, we go back a long complicated way, dancing into each other’s orbit, being pulled away by another’s gravity, but, sooner or later, we find ourselves on the same dance floor, alone and lonely, and we begin to orbit each other once again. Something is different about this time, however. Perhaps it is the years, maybe even maturity, but at the very least, it is self knowledge, or so I think to myself. We know ourselves, and we know each other, you and I.
We both went to Jess’ place for a party on October 24th. Not quite Halloween, no longer summer though it was still quite warm; something in-between. We both arrived with someone else, but to say you came with him or me with her, well, it would be an overstatement. I think you saw me first, but as you drifted toward me, I sensed you. There is no other word for it – I turned, expecting to see you, and there you were.
I wasn’t wearing anything special – black jeans, chocolate silk tee and a light linen jacket; flip flops for shoes. You, on the other, were dressed as if you were plugged into my libido; pale beige, cap sleeve top, buttons all the way down, like a man’s shirt, two buttons undone, with a tight black skirt that fell just below mid thigh. No hose and blood red fuck-me-pumps. Your bra was barely visible through the top; I could see the lace at the top of the cup. Just that much, no more, but it pulled at something low inside me, some unconscious some memory of times past.
We spoke as if we were long time friends, catching up with each other. That isn’t what I felt. Inside, I raged at you, at how you could just come back into my life, like some fucking comet that comes by every few year and sheds a few falling stars. I wanted to slap you, or bury you with kisses, I couldn’t tell which.
I don’t know what you thought. Your conscious mind has never been available to me. The mind that underlies conscious thought, oh fuck yeah, I knew that woman. Not, however, this cool chick with her bright and knowing eyes and the kiss of wine on her lips and tongue. I will never know her, not entirely.”
“Do you still think that, Jeff?”
“Yes, kitten, I still do.” I continued the story.
“Friends separated us, your girlfriends wanting to talk about guys, my guy friends want to talk about football.
I couldn’t give a flying fuck about football under normal conditions, and with you there, dressed like… like sex in fucking heels, no, the conditions were not normal, but mostly guys don’t need anything more than a few grunts and damn rights, and really, I just watched you.
Watched you watching me. The girls were going on and on about who fucking knows what, but you watched me, circling your wine glass with your lips and tongue. Fuck you, I thought, you’re playing me for a chump. Still, I wondered. Your gaze, more predator than player, unsettled me, made me question what I knew, what had happened back then. Made me think my memory couldn’t be right.
After a only a few minutes I couldn’t take it anymore. I pulled you away from the girls, almost spilling your wine in the process. The girls gave me that look, but they know we go way back, and they cut me some slack.
‘What the fuck are you doing here, Emma?’
‘It’s a party, Jeff. I came to Jess’ fucking party, pardon my French.’
‘Yeah, I get that, the same for me, but why are you… you know, looking at me?’
‘You’re a handsome older man, Jeff. I like handsome men.’ Oh how I knew that. Handsome motherfucking cocksuckers – men were what had always come between us.
‘Well, stop it. You’re giving me the willies.’
‘Oh, there’s a willy involved, that’s for sure,’ and you leered at me over your glass, all tongue and shiny lips.
An almost physical jolt passed through me, leaving a hot trail of desire in its wake. ‘Jesus, Emma, don’t do that to me if you don’t plan to put your mouth where your words are!’You leered at me again.’Shit, you know what I mean, put out or shut up, Emma.’ Crap. ‘I mean, don’t string me along, okay? You owe me that much.’
‘Who’s stringing you along, Jeff? The wine is good, and the glass, it feels good, but, I don’t know, I think you might just be tastier and I know you’d feel way better. A girl gets tired of… of glass, don’t you think?’
Suddenly, it wasn’t a game anymore, not that it had ever been one, not between çapa escort us. I took the wine out of your hand, put it on a nearby table, and pulled you, roughly, up the stairs and into Jess’ guest room, locking the door behind us.
I pushed you, hard, then again, then a third time, forcing you backwards to the far wall. Your face lost its playful predator look as you worried about what I might do, what I wanted to do to you.
‘No fears, Emma, I won’t leave any marks, at least none anyone else but us will see.’ I said. I don’t think this comforted you at all, but you didn’t move away, you just waited. Still, alert, your breathing a little accelerated, your face flushed. I flung my jacket on the bed, and the tee quickly followed it. The flip flops were abandoned, but I left the jeans on. I could tell in your eyes that you still like my flesh, that you wanted me naked, but not yet, kitten, not yet.
I stalked you, crossing the last two steps between us, and, taking your arm, turned you around so your back was to me. I kissed the back of your neck, ran my fingers over your lips, teasing your tongue, then slid my hands down your shoulders, down your arms, to your hands, which I gently interlocked, each hand of mine with each hand of yours, and then placed our hands on your hips and pulled you tight against me. Your hair was in my face, and the smell of your sweet scent made me weak in the knees – but not weak everywhere, no, not at all. My erection, which had started downstairs, was like a thick pulsing rod in my pants, and you could feel it against your buttocks, the small of your back, and you arched that beautiful back, pushing back against me, seeking contact.
I let go of your hands and raised mine slowly along the front of your shirt, brushing over your breasts, just barely feeling your hard nipples. My lips were on your neck, your ears, your cheek. I unbuttoned the top button on your shirt, and slowly moved to the next button, and the rise of your breasts was there to see, the lush skin, the lacy bra. My breath caught, so did yours, as I ran my fingers along the top of the cups, lightly stroking your skin.
My hands slipped lower, cupping your breasts, lifting them slightly. You looked down, seeing my hands, there, and the flames of desire, lit, as it was for me, well before we came upstairs, flared up, starting that burn low, low down in your core.
A finger slipped under the lace, and traced there an aureole, a nipple, engorged with blood, with lust. You started, pushed upright, almost to your toes, and leaned back into me, that I might touch more, take more, but I didn’t. I returned to the buttons, slowly undoing the remaining ones and untucking the shirt tails from your skirt, leaving the sensitive skin of your belly open to every breath of air, to my hands as they smoothed along the skin, running along the top of the skirt, then up to the bottom of the bra cups.
I turned you around and kissed you, hungrily, almost biting your lips, your tongue, tasting you, absorbing all of your essence into mine. I caressed the hollow of your neck with my lips, and you quaked, wanting more, fearing more.
I leaned back just a little, our hips still in contact, my erect cock hard against your belly, and you moved your hips in a circle, sliding your pussy across my thigh, the hard muscles there giving your clit purchase. You felt your innermost muscles clench. Your shirt slid off and down to the floor, your bra the only barrier between your hard nipples and the skin of my chest. The swell of your breasts became the focus of my attentions, kisses rained down upon them, and they shone with saliva from all that attention.
The straps were next, and as I slid them off your shoulders, you reached to undo the back, but I stopped your hands with mine, and gave you a look, a ‘This task, this joy, is mine, I will do it.’ look, and I undid the clasp; the bra fell over your arms and to the floor. I bent you backwards with a fierce, almost predatory kiss, that slowly worked its way down to your breast, and then I took a nipple in my mouth, and more than the nipple, the whole aureole, and I suckled there like a small child.
I could feel your thighs clench around me leg as you began to lose your sense of separation from me, as we became one flame, one desire. I could see inside you as if there were no skin, no separate person, and you saw me, too. Your head fell back, and you moaned and pulled my lips, my tongue, to your other breast. I nipped at it, and you started, and your breathing quickened yet more. The little pain was like a wire that pulled on your clit, and cihangir escort you could feel your cunt juices start to flow down your legs.
I stood upright and pressed against you with my hips, my cock at your belly, forcing you to lean against the wall behind you. Stepping back I drank you in through my eyes, the long curves of your arms, the line where flesh ends and skirt begins, the bend of your knee, the arch of your foot, the slow but insistent gyration of your hips.
I took both your wrists in my left and lifted your arms straight above your head, your bare shoulders against the wall, your back arched, one of my legs behind you now. I leaned into you and inhaled the scent of your hair, but you turned your face to me, hungry for a kiss, for tongue and the feel of my lips against yours. But I kissed the hollow of your neck instead, and your head rolled back, your eyes closing, as my right hand slowly eased down over your right breast, pausing at the nipple to tweak, to pull, and then down, down to the skirt.
I slid my hand under the waistband of the skirt, and ran it slowly around that triangle of space formed by your hips and pubes, not yet under the silk of your panties, just slow circles above your pubes. You moaned, and tossed your head, and you said, ‘Please, please stop teasing me, fuck me now!’ I whispered in your ear, ‘Not yet, kitten, not yet. Soon. I promise. Now shhhhh, just be, knowing that I am taking all that you are as mine, and you want that. You want me to take everything, leaving nothing behind, all that remains is a white heat, sex, desire, fucking.’
You moaned steadily after that, unconsciously, sinking into being, no longer thinking. There was very little you left, just skin and lips and pussy and breasts and feeling – shit, the feeling, it was all one thing, and you no long just wanted to be fucked, you were the apotheosis of fucking, you were the taking and the giving and the coming and shaking and even though I hadn’t even touched your cunt, your legs were wet with your desire, you already had little orgasms, little pulses of pleasure that stripped the thinking you away, leaving only the white heat of desire.
The hem of your skirt… I love skirts, I love that they are different from what men wear, that what skirts are about is access. To your pussy, to your core, to the self you shared with me that night. And you don’t really share it with me, you give it to me and I take it. And I love that taking.
I took the hem of that skirt and lifted it until the your silken panties, wet and transparent, were there to feel, to see, to slip aside as I slid under the lace edge and along your cunt lips, wet, hot, beautiful. I could barely stand and the only thing holding you up is me, and your hips ground against my hand, your moans became words, a prayer, ‘Fuck me, fuck me now, god I am so fucking wet, fuck me, fuck me, I can’t stand any more, fuck me, oh god that feels good, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…’ I don’t think you knew what you were saying, it was desire’s prayer, using your mouth.
My right hand undid the zipper at the back of your skirt, but to do so, I had to stand in front of you, and you pressed your breasts, your pussy, your mouth against me, sucking me into you every way you could.
The zipper undone, the skirt slid to the floor, and I let your hands go and knelt in front of you, only to grab your ass and pull your core into me. You put your hands on my head, trying to push me lower, but I wasn’t ready to go there, not yet.
Oh, but I was ready, my cock so hard it ached, and I wanted it out of my pants so much… but not yet. You aren’t yet as deep into it as you will be.
I slid your panties down, slowly, while you lift one foot, still clad in those blood red fuck-me-pumps, and then the other foot… the panties are gone and you were totally naked before me, powerless in the face of my strength and your… passion. Helpless before the storm.
But not really. We both know that in giving yourself to me, in my taking you, you claim me, that in your submission, you chain me to you with chains far stronger than any I can break, not then, not now, and maybe never. You may leave me some day – will leave me yet again – but I, I will never be able to truly let you go. I know this, you know this, but at that moment, the moment of your total conquest of me, all you know is the need to be fucked, to come until the world shatters.
But me, what I know is the beautiful face of your cunt, shaved smooth as a baby’s bottom. The labia are puffy, both inner and outer, and the opening to your body is slightly esenyurt escort open, and slick with your juices. I love that smooth look, that smooth feel; it is the perfect expression of innocence and the knowing wanton in you, the elemental being of desire and the sexual being of fucking, that binds me ever tighter to you.
I love your little man in a boat, I love to touch it, and I did, with my tongue, nothing else, and just the tip. A little quiver, and an echo in your hips, and I can’t stand it any longer. I pressed my face into your cunt, my head bent back so that I can feel all of you, and you tipped your hips so you could feel every part of your pussy in contact with my face, and suddenly you ejaculate, your cum flowing down my chin onto my breast. I feel baptized, washed in balm, and an electric pulse jerks my cock in my pants.
The fucking jeans were in the way, and I stood up, pushing you against the wall with a warning look to not move, not one fucking inch, and you didn’t. You waited, but there was hunger in your eyes, and you breathed a little gasp of delight as my cock sprung free, a new little pearl of pre cum glistening at the slit.
One hand on your chest, holding you there, the other wrapped around my cock, stroking it, teasing you and you struggled to escape my hand, and I had to lean my shoulder into you to keep you from grabbing my dick, and I kept stroking, stroking, the pre cum leaking in a string between my hand and the tip of my cock. You love cock, any cock, but a hard cock slick with pre-cum… you lost the use of words, and you grunt as you wrestle me for my cock.
‘Not yet, kitten, not yet,’ I said. My voice is a little cruel now, I know I am withholding, making you whore yourself out, and you make animal noises and terrible faces; thought is so far gone you are no longer rational.
I pressed you against the wall with my whole body, holding your hands way above your head again. I slid my cock between your legs, sliding back and forth between your cunt lips, bumping your little man, your clit, and at each bump, you jerked, spasmed really, your head snapping back and your mouth opening in a wide ‘O’, and god, it feels so good, you are so hot, and I can feel a gathering momentum in my legs, a storm rising from deep in my lizard brain….
But I don’t want to spill my seed anywhere but in your cunt. I spun you around, and you pressed one hand into the wall, the other hand to your pussy, and god, you pushed your ass into me, and I am so fucking shaking, I almost can’t see, and there is a roaring in my ears. My blood, my heart, pounding, and as the storm gathers, I can’t feel anything but your skin, all your skin, your cunt, your ass, your back, your hair, your breasts against the wall – I know you, in that moment, as if you were me, a part of me, and my cock parts your cunt lips as if it was going home, and that is how it feels, like home, like all the places I ever wanted to be, to return to, and it feels so fucking good to be inside you… I reached around you, gently pushing your hand aside, and start stroking your clit, like it was a little dick, hard and needy, just like mine. You put your hand on mine, and together we rock, and whisper sweet “fucks” to each other.
Suddenly I can’t control anything anymore and I am pounding into your cunt and the storm is shooting lightning bolts and the thunder… it rings so loud, and I am deaf, and blind and one final bolt strikes me and I cum, and it is a river, a river of molten metal, forged of desire, shaped to fit you, to fill you, and I as I jet into you, the heat burns you all the way to your heart, and your world does shatter, and you lock into place, rigid, the only movement the perceptible contraction of your cunt muscles.
I expanded, encompassed galaxies, there was no me, no you, just an all pervasive us, for seconds, minutes, hours – I don’t know. Suddenly, you collapsed, and I with you, and we were on the floor, my still erect cock against your hip, but otherwise, we are limp, consumed, eaten up from the inside out. I felt cum leaking out of you, both our cum, and across your leg and mine. Inside me, something growls, purrs, roars, ‘You are fucking mine. mine, MINE!’ and I know that you aren’t thinking yet, but I hear your purr, kitten, and it is golden and liquid with sunlight and contentment, and the sure knowledge that we will be there in that place again, maybe even soon, that place where thought is not needed, where this is only the giving and the taking.
And the fucking.”
“I love that story,” you say, dreamily.
“I do too, kitten, I do too.”
“Do I really have chains on you?”
“Yes, you do. I am a man, you are a woman, and we play at games of dominance and submission, but under all that lies the beast, the beast that knows you, that would take all you could ever give and fuck you until the world ended, were he let loose.
And you have your chains on that beast.”
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