Lying in silence, neither of us feeling the need for unnecessary conversation, he turns his head to me. "I'm dying for some water. Can I get you something while I'm up?"
"Mmm. Water would be fantastic. Thank you." I smile genuinely at him. He's a sweet guy. It's too bad my inner slut muffin decided to pick him for a quickie. He probably would have made good relationship material.
He returns with two bottles of ice-cold water, but before handing me mine, he rubs the bottom of it between my breasts, causing me to gasp from the sudden temperature change, then down my stomach, before nudging my legs apart, settling the bottle between my thighs. It feels good, refreshing in an odd way, but damn I'm thirsty, too.
He opens the other bottle and hands it to me. I take a long swig while he continues to use the other bottle in his hand to massage my overused lady parts. It's not erotic but definitely intimate. Intimate in a tender way; he's not trying to arouse me, just take care of me.
I glance down at him and watch as he rolls the cool bottle on the insides of my thighs. Blowing on the trail of condensation the container leaves behind, he effectively chills the area. In an odd way, it seems like a massage of sorts. I've never had anyone do it, but the results are incredible.
It's very refreshing.
I'm rehydrated and have an enormous smile on my face as he navigates my legs, paying attention to the minute details of my body. When he reaches my ankles, he sets the bottle on the nightstand. "Don't move. I'll be right back."
I follow my instructions, remaining in the same place he left me when he returns with two more bottles of water. With one in each hand, he rolls them up and down the soles of my feet, the ridges on the bottles acting like rollers. My feet recoil at first from the temperature of the plastic, but they quickly adjust and are left with the same effect the first one did. He has me turn over on my stomach so he can complete his water bottle full-body massage. He should patent this technique.
Gathering the bottles, he makes to leave the room. "Are you hungry, Alex?" he calls as he wanders down the hall, presumably to the kitchen to put them back in the fridge. God, I hope he knows which one he had between my legs.
Suddenly famished, I call out, "Oh my gosh, yes. I'm starving, now that you mention it."
"You want me to whip something up or do you want to go out?"
I sit up, tossing my legs to the side of the bed. Perched on the edge, I call back, "You know, Chris, I should probably get going. What time is it anyway?" It's dark outside so my ability to gauge the time is completely gone, and strangely, there's no clock in his bedroom.
"No." It's his only response.
"I'm sorry? I didn't hear you."
He appears in the doorway, and I'm taken aback by how large he actually is. Standing there in a space normal people walk through with ease, I see his gargantuan size. Or maybe it's his personality that just seems larger than life. Whatever it is, it's rather overwhelming at the moment. My heart starts to flutter like a giddy little girl excited about a new toy.
"Yes, you did. I said, 'no.'"
"No? I don't understand."
"No, you aren't leaving. I don't want you to and you don't really want to go." His mouth turns up in a cocky grin that normally would have me running in the opposite direction, except with Chris, that grin is just that, a grin. It definitely doesn't define him or even describe him.
I debate telling him my situation; I'll look pathetic as hell, but I might as well. "Look, I'm staying with my parents right now. I kind of need to be respectful of their home."
"I get it. So call them and tell them you're not going to be home tonight and just enjoy the night with me." He's as nonchalant about this as he would be acknowledging the sky is blue.
"Do you do this often? Have random women spend the night?" Might as well figure out where I stand.
"No. I don't. I haven't had anyone here since I bought the place. When I got back from school, relationships weren't even on my radar. I was burned pretty badly by a girl and haven't had any interest since."
"Seriously?"
"As a heart attack." He comes to sit next to me on the bed, still completely naked and very comfortable in the skin God gave him. He puts his hands behind him on the bed leaning back.
"What about you? You go to random cabins on a regular basis?"
I just shake my head, trying to keep the tears at bay. In all honesty, I never thought I would be in anyone else's bed, but shit happens and life throws you curveballs. Sometimes you just have to play the game you were tossed into. This isn't my MO, and I wasn't seeking it out today. I can't explain how or why it happened, nor do I want to pick it apart and evaluate it. I just want to accept it for exactly what it is and enjoy it.
The question becomes, am I done experiencing it, or do I want to accept the invitation and continue playing the game?
I look over to him and see kindness in his eyes; behind it lies smoldering passion, and I quickly decide I want to live a little.
"Let me go call my mom."
He lies back on the bed with his feet still firmly planted on the ground as I get up to go in search of my clothes and cell phone. I can't wait to try to explain to my mother that her daughter is a little Harlot who won't be coming home tonight. Luckily for me, she is half asleep and doesn't ask any questions.
With that taken care of, I return to his bedside. He's still on his back, but something has caused the beast to take notice and rise. Stepping in front of him, I kneel between his knees, spreading them to accommodate my frame.
He raises his head to look at me, the gleam in his eyes tells me he approves as he lowers his head to the mattress and out of view.
Men seem to like getting head one of two ways: they either want to face fuck a girl or they want a woman to lavish attention on them. Based on his demeanor and the way he has treated my body with reverence thus far, I decide on the latter, taking my time kissing the insides of his thighs.
Gentle, open mouth kisses with a slight flick of the tongue every now and then, occasionally tracing my way to his package with just the tip of my tongue or dragging my bottom lip. Enticing each nerve along the way with a slight scratch of my nails, just enough to make the hair stand on end.
With one hand, I reach up to cup his balls resting neatly under his hardening shaft. I'm dumbfounded by how large they are. I've never seen testicles this big. Seriously. His package overflows from my hand. I find myself instantly wet, completely aroused at something that seems so feral, so masculine.
With my other hand, I encircle him between my thumb and fingers, gently sliding down, applying a little pressure before going in the opposite direction with a slight twist of the wrist. Tugging and massaging his balls gently, I work them and his cock in tandem, going slowly so it's not over before it gets started.
When I achieve the pressure that works for him, I receive a satisfying moan deep from his chest, spurring me on. Before taking his length in my mouth, I lick from the base to the tip, and circle the head with the tip of my tongue. I notice in the light the softest piece of skin I've ever encountered on a human being located in the V on the underside of his head. I lick it, then kiss it, realizing I can kiss it and suck it at the same time, teasing it with my mouth. I have never enjoyed a spot on a man's body more, and by the sounds emanating from him, he's happy I found it.
"Jesus, Alex. That's fucking incredible. Please don't stop." Happy to oblige I continue on my voyage, taking him in my mouth, slowly, a little at a time before taking more and more, inch by inch in my wanton, hot, hole. Lavishing my tongue around his engorged cock, which grows harder with each swipe, every stroke, he spreads his legs farther, encouraging me to come close, accept more of him. I lick his balls, taking them in just a bit before returning to his head.
His body tenses and he sits straight up like an arrow, catching me off guard. I release my hold on him, thinking I must have hurt him.
"Get up here. On your knees," he commands in a voice unlike anything I've heard from him today. It's domineering in a way that makes me want to adhere to his directives.
I hesitate for just a moment, processing what he just told me to do before I scramble onto the bed.
"On all fours, your ass facing me." I oblige, feeling a little shy, and a tad awkward. "Spread your knees, Alex, I want to see that pussy open up for me."
I look over my shoulder, unsure I heard what he just said. When I do, he glances toward my knees, indicating he's waiting for me to follow his lead. I spread myself wide for him, feeling my lips part. The fan in the room cools my moistened folds, sending a chill up my back. I turn back to face the wall, avoiding his gaze.
"Down to your elbows."
I quickly do as I'm told, now fully aware there is not an inch of me he can't see. Not only is my pussy on full display for his viewing pleasure, but my ass is as well. I should feel ashamed, but I'm electrified by his intent stare, as if he's inspecting me. I want him to like what he sees. I silently praise myself for the waxing I splurged on two days ago.
With my elbows digging into the mattress and my face flat on the same surface, I sense him step toward me. Then his hand finds the inside of my right knee, trailing his fingers up the back of my thigh, then the left, back to the right, only this time, his hand is flat on my skin, caressing me, working his way up to my ass.
Fingers outstretched, he nurtures the curve of my ass, feeling the shape, embracing it. Suddenly, his hand leaves me and I feel the wind it creates before I feel the sting of the slap on my cheek. He doesn't lift his hand again; instead, he soothes the heat he just inflicted. The slap of the other hand takes me by surprise, causing my head to jerk up. I sneak a peek, wondering why he's spanking me, not sure what I'm expecting to see, but it isn't the serenity on his face. He's in total control, and the slight smile dancing on his lips tells me he's enjoying this.
He continues with several more slaps. I can feel the heat rising, my ass is on fire, but with each bit of contact, I begin to crave the sting and the warmth more. Involuntarily, I deepen the arch in my back, further injecting my ass into his range of motion, swaying slightly from side to side from the hips as if to invite more attention.
My pussy is sopping wet and I feel like a veritable whore. I can't figure out what's come over me and don't want to spend time thinking about it. All I can muster is the will not to beg him to continue. He senses it, though. Instead of palming the heat after another slap, he runs two fingers up my slit, finding the pool of moisture I wanted to hide, ashamed of enjoying this.
"Fuck, Alex, you're so wet," he says. His voice is much deeper than normal, but sexy as hell.
I can't form a response, so I just moan. He rewards me by sticking those two fingers deep inside my opening, turning them before dragging them back out, then repeating.
While he finger fucks me, I push into it, enjoying the journey. His other hand still playing on my cheek. Oblivious to anything other than the pleasure he's providing, I don't realize his hand has crept toward my asshole. His thumb gently applies pressure, and it feels incredible, but even my inner slut is telling me to be mortified.
I can't help it.
When his thumb penetrates the ring with a slight popping sensation, I'm suddenly in overdrive. Pure ecstasy. I try to hold back the orgasm about to take me over, but it's too much. I cry out in warning, "Chris! Oh, fuck, Chris..." but he doesn't let up as the waves of my orgasm roll through me, continuously. It's intense in a way I want to repeat again.
Removing his fingers from my pussy but not his thumb from my ass, he slides his engorged cock into me, rocking his hips back and forth, moving his thumb as he goes, which serves to increase the pressure in my anus. It's as if the orgasm never stops.
His actions give me a high, and I feel like I'm floating, nothing and everything at once, my senses heightened, yet dulled. I feel every nerve in my body, but nothing hurts. It's just sheer bliss. He slaps my ass with his free hand, while continuing to fill both of my holes; the sharp contact sends me higher into this realm. As his pace picks up, the assault continues.
I feel as full as I've ever felt.
"Do you like being fucked like a whore, Alex? Taking a pounding like a little slut?"
I should be offended, but the way he says "whore" makes me smile and I just hum with delight.
"You do like it, don't you?"
I nod my head, unable to form lucid words much less sentences.
"Do you like being at the mercy of a man who takes what he wants? Uses your body for his pleasure?"
Again, I nod. While what he says is true, he's providing me with more than he's taking.
He smacks my ass, demanding a response. "Answer me."
"Yes," I billow.
"Yes, what?" he asks.
Can't he see I'm not up for talking? I just want him to keep fucking me, hard, keeping me on this trip, this almost out-of-body experience. "I like you fucking me like your whore."
"You wanna be my whore? My slut?"
I nod but am unable to move my head much from the pounding in my pussy and my ass.
He takes a handful of my hair, pulling back slightly. It doesn't hurt, but gets my attention.
I float down from my cloud long enough to mutter, "Yes."
Covering my back with his chest, he whispers in my ear, "I'd like that, too, sweetheart."
I smile into his cheek pressed against the side of my face, listening to the steady rhythm of his balls smacking my skin, the sounds of moisture as his cock rages in and out of my aching hole.
"Rub your clit for me," he says.
It's a gentle command in the voice I've heard all day. I long to please him, and I know within moments of the pads of my fingers hitting my hard little nub, my cunt will detonate. Part of me wants the release, but part of me never wants this euphoria to end.
The part wanting to please him wins as I raise up, reaching under my hips and placing two fingers on my slit. I run them the length of me first, spreading them in a V to feel where we're connected-his wet cock sliding between my fingers, once, twice-then I do as I was told. In slow figure eights, I send myself soaring off the cliff and he follows behind me, grunting his release as I cry out mine.
I lie there in the same position as he pulls out, taking care to be easy on my ravaged pussy. He eases my legs down, taking the pressure off my spine, which I hadn't realized was happening. Suddenly, my body shakes, little tremors, and I can't stop whimpering.
The emotional pain of coming down from wherever I just was crushes me as tears seep from my eyes onto the comforter. I'm an emotional and physical mess. What the fuck has this guy just done to me?
Unable to move, I lie there, trying to figure out how to get myself under control, when he pulls me into his embrace. He's sitting up against the headboard, on top of a pile of pillows.
Dragging me into his lap, he cradles me like a child, tucking my face into his neck and pulling the blankets up around the two of us. he kisses the top of my head and just holds me. He soothes whatever is going on inside me gently caressing my arm and running his hand down my leg, not in a sexual manner, just in a way a father would comfort a child in his lap.
He offers me some water from the nightstand, which I eagerly take. "I should've made sure you ate something. I'm sorry," he says.
He isn't the one who should be apologizing. I'm the blubbering idiot who just buries herself further into the comfort of the cocoon he offers, shaking my head in disagreement. Suddenly, I'm afraid of the world outside of his arms.
"I didn't have any intention of that becoming so intense, but you just seemed to take what I offered," he says to me as he strokes my hair.
I finally manage the strength to look up at him. "Why are you apologizing? That was amazing. I've never felt anything like it." My words are weak, but I hope the smile on my face convinces him I'm telling the truth.
It seems as though he wants to say something more but holds it back. "Let me know when you're ready to get up. No rush. And I'll make us something for dinner."
I sink into the surrounding warmth, just enjoying the feel of him around me, the comfort of a man's arms. Instead of focusing on the damage they could do, I focus on the safety they're currently providing. I'm going to have to get up, and in all honestly, I'm so hungry I think I could eat a cardboard box.
"Hey, Chris?"
"Yeah, sweetheart?"
"I don't want to move but I'm so hungry. What do you have we could munch on?"
"I could whip up some spaghetti pretty quickly." He pulls back to see my reaction.
"That sounds fantastic! Do you need help?"
"Don't get too excited. I cheat." He grins at me as I crawl out of his lap. He tosses me a T-shirt of his to put on while he slides on a pair of jeans, sans boxers, that hang low on his hips. A woman could starve to death in his presence. I lick my lips and remind myself there's no actual food value in his body and one needs sustenance.
