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Sex Story



Naked

"Strip."

Eyebrows arched, I gaze at you. A command professor? Are we learning anything this evening? Lips curved, I can't help but smile. It's fabulous really. You, naked, hot, the orgasm still running through your system, making your breath uneven, your balls still aching slightly from the force of the release, and yet that annoyed frown still tugs at the corners of your mouth. I can't remember the last time I so enjoyed pushing someone's buttons. Interesting isn't it, the need I have to twist your world just a little. Moth to a flame. Pushing you, a girl could definitely get her wings singed.

The taste of your cum still lingers on my tongue, it's like having you inside me, and makes my body throb just as if you were. My eyes on yours, I stand between your legs. Strip. Yes, I want to be naked for you now. Only sheer willpower keeps my eyes on yours. I crave the sight of your body, and you are such a picture, your cock half-hard, your balls still wet from my mouth. The shiver that runs through me is visible, and you smile. Damn that smile. Makes me want to give you anything, everything. We both already know I will.

I reach behind my back, fingers tugging at the narrow zipper. Soft sound of metal sliding on metal. I can almost see my reflection in your eyes as the thin straps fall from my shoulders. Your eyes narrow as my hands pause, palm lightly pressed against the swell of my breast, holding the dress in place. Impatience becomes you. My eyes dart down your body—I can't resist—then meet yours again. Your lips finally curve into a smile as my hands fall to my sides, the dress whispering down over my hips to pool at my feet. My nipples harden in the cool air of the room. I straighten my shoulders as your eyes cruise down, devouring as they go. The silky triangle between my legs is shiny and wet. You knew it would be.

Your hand, like velvet steel, wraps around my wrist, turning me in a sort of pirouette, until you stand behind me, the silk of my stockings whispering against your thighs. The tremor runs through me, makes me my flesh tremble. My pulse racing beneath your fingers catches me off guard. I knew it would come to this, that I would give myself to you. Here. Tonight. I'm not sure if I knew until now that I'd be taken. "Come into my parlor said the spider to the fly…" was this my web or yours Jack? I can't remember.

Was that a push toward the bedroom, or is it my own eagerness to be with you that makes me stumble? I can feel you. Close. Your mouth cruises lightly along my shoulder, lips parted to taste my flesh. I can't hear the words you're growling under your breath. Maybe they aren't meant for me. Can't tell. I can't tell anything but the way your fingers burn against my skin. "I want you Jack. Need you." I can give you the words. I'm not afraid of the feelings even though my head is swimming with them.

"Damn right." The growl turns hiss as you spin me around, your hand still around my wrist so that my arm is caught behind me, your mouth inches from mine. Still annoyed with me I see. Is it because you want to take me, or because I've already given myself to you that your eyes are sparking hot? Doesn't matter. Your temper is kindling to the fire. We'll burn either way. I rise on tiptoes to press my mouth to yours, and you let me kiss you, pulling my tongue into your mouth, sucking it hard so that you can drink my soft whimpers. Your teeth scrape, nip, bite into my lower lip and I gasp. Breasts pressed to your chest, muscles quivering I bend back over your arm, letting you push me wanting to be under you.

You growl, low in your throat and I'm falling. Suddenly released my body tumbles to the bed, and I lay, sprawled there, watching as you stand over me. The outside lights cast shadows over your naked body as you look down at me. Take me, touch me. Don't you know how much I've wanted this? Wanted to feel you. I'm so close its like you're already inside me. Now. Please. Now. The words tumble in my head. I grope for the ones that will make you reach for me. There aren't any. Your eyes. God. "Jack…"

My body arches, legs parting naturally as I feel the mattress dip under your weight. No words. My mind races as I try to see what you're seeing. To get inside you because I so desperately want you inside me. There's distance though, in this moment. You look not at my face but at the way my arms stretch over my head, fingertips brushing the headboard, curling around the antique brass as my body arches. I see you smile, and the sea I'm drowning in ebbs a little, letting me breathe. Your eyes meeting mine, finally.

"Mine. Mine now, little girl." The silk slips around my wrists. I don't flinch as you pull it taught. I didn't realize until just now that I left it there, draped across the headboard, for you. My fingers still curl naturally around the brass rung of the headboard, but its no longer necessary. My wrists are bound, and though the silk is soft and slippery against my skin the knot is unyielding. Your eyes devour my quivering frame. Your gaze lapping at me, making my skin burn. Please…Please…Please god touch me. The words are in my eyes as my hips writhe, shifting helplessly. I hear the soft whimpers float through the air, but I don't register that they're my own. Can I cum, just from you looking at me? It feels like it.

Minutes. Hours. Eons. Time is meaningless to me now as I wait for your touch. Your eyes never waver, your mouth, your hands don't move any closer to my weeping body. My taut thighs strain as I stretch my legs wider apart, my feet scrambling for purchase as I arch my hips, my lower body rising a few inches off the bed. Slowly your gaze drifts down my body again, focusing between my legs. Your eyes darken as you watch the way my own arousal glistens on my sex, the way the glossy, wet lips quiver as the inner muscles contract deep inside me, desperate for something to hold onto. I'm startled by the sharp, desperate scream, even more so when it registers as my own. The tip of your tongue flicks along your bottom lip, and I can imagine you there, tasting me. Jack I can feel you. I can feel your tongue, know how the solid heat of it will send me into oblivion. But you simply sit, inches from me, but miles beyond my grasp.

My tongue wets my parched lips, head tossing to shake the auburn curls from my face. "Jack." My voice is even. How can it be when I'm coming apart, going crazy. Your eyes on mine and I see. See the words you haven't spoken, know what it is you're waiting for. I thought it would be easy, the giving, but it's terrifying, a quick twist of nerves that only adds to the layers of sensation. You incline your head slightly, your eyes never leaving mine. Was that a nod of encouragement, or are you simply curious about whether or not I understand, whether or not I can go where you're taking me? "Jack…." The word sticks in my throat, smothered by a mindless whimper as my hips begin to rock, beyond my control. My voice is thin, my breathing thready I gasp.

"Please…pleasepleaseplease…"

A tear slides down my cheek and your lips curve, finally into a smile. Your smile. Damn. Everything is in your smile. Your mouth lowers, your tongue tracing away the tear as I feel your fingers slip between my legs and into me. One fluid motion. My orgasm starts before the first knuckle is inside me. The bucking of my hips drives my body onto the probing lengths. Both of us watch, my eyes glazed and wild, yours focused, intent on each spasm, on each glistening drop of moisture.

"That's my girl…yes honey. Feel it. So fucking wet you're dripping…." Once again I'm not sure if your rough, whispered words are for me, or if you even know you're speaking them out loud. You seem entranced by the arch of my body, the slide of your fingers as they disappear again and again into my pulsing, aching slit. Then suddenly they're gone and I'm whimpering again, unable to stop the quivering chills running through my body. My legs begin to close, my body curling into itself a defense against the waves of feeling battering my nerve endings. I didn't see you, didn't feel you move but you're there, between my legs, kneeling over me, your thighs pressing against mine, keeping me open, exposed, throbbing.

"All. You'll take it all little one. You know that now. Know that I'll have you." This time I know the words are for me, and that alone puts us closer than you'd like to level ground. My mind is spinning. There are no words for how you've made me feel, to describe the way my body shudders, aches for you. I want to touch you, caress. Soothe. Strange that in the middle of this hurricane I wish so much to give you tenderness. The eye of the storm. My eyes whisper along the strong set of your jaw, touching you where my fingers can't. You hate the fact that I can make you shudder. Ahh yes. I know you Jack. Know that you'll have me. I'll take all. I want it. You can see it in my eyes, and though you're trying to be annoyed again, it's simply natural.

"Yes Jack. Have me. Take me. I need you to fuck me, have needed it since that first moment. It seems like I've been waiting for ages to have you inside me. Now. Please now." I arch my hips again. In surrender, in invitation. Oh yes, Jack, and in challenge. I can see it, just like you can see me. Not so simple now, though you ache to possess me, you're baffled by surrender without fear, without weakness. Break or bend Jack. It may not taste like cherry lip-gloss, but I think you'll like the flavor.

Once again you're watching me, just your fingertip tracing along the swollen cleft of my sex. Your other hand wrapped around your cock, stroking lightly. As if experimenting you push your middle finger deep into my cunt, your palm pressed hard against me, your index and ring finger on either side of my clit. I can't stop the gasp of pleasure, wouldn't try, but you watch me, watch my face as you rock your hand against me, not really a thrust because your finger stays buried in me, working the silky wet walls, exploring me until I feel us both shudder. Your eyes change slightly, a decision made. Then suddenly you're there, pushing inside me before you even draw your finger out. The thick head of your cock stretching me, nudging inside me along the exploring digit. The combination of your cock pushing into me, and your finger slowly sliding free, makes my hips twist, my head falling back, my mouth open as I pant mindlessly. The tender column of my throat is exposed, my back arched, your hands lifting my hips, searching for the angle as we strain together. Surrender. It's yours. Mine. I can't tell anymore. Can you?

You lean up, over, me, reaching for a pillow, and I slip a little, your cock moving almost all the way out of me even as I arch to keep you deep inside. I might take that soft growl for simple desire if the impatience wasn't so clear in that subtle down turning of your mouth. You glance at my hands, still bound to the bedframe. The impatience in your eyes almost makes me laugh. Caught in your own trap darling. You grab for pillows, pulling the one from beneath my head as well. My hips arched you slide the pillows beneath me, giving you the angle you want, the depth, while freeing your hands to touch me. Your hands cruise up, over my stomach, along my ribcage to my breasts. You cup them, mold them roughly as your cock stirs and stretches the wet velvet heat of my sex. I can feel the throb of your heartbeat as your cock pulses between my legs. The need is boiling in you. Desire, too long restrained is suddenly edged with violence. The next thrust is brutal, stealing my breath, frissons of pain and pleasure sprinting over my skin. You're above me now, one hand braced on the bed, near my shoulder, the other cupping my head, tangling in my hair, pulling on it. Holding me by it. Your mouth on mine is like salvation for both of us. We are surprised that as we meet, mouth to mouth the kiss holds none of the violence that drives my hips to arch, to meet your thrusting cock, both of us striving to get deeper, to take more.

We've lost count of the small orgasms that have trembled through my body as you move in me. They are waves washing over us, swamping us for a moment, but we struggle to the surface again and swim deeper. My skin is damp with sweat; my hair curling at my nape as my head falls back. Your mouth ravishes my neck, my throat, hard nipping kisses, devastatingly hot laves with your tongue. Always you're moving in me. Hard and thick, stretching me, filling me until my tender inner walls are aching, my thighs trembling beyond my control. I'm so far gone I don't know what is building inside me, but you do. You can sense it. Have been watching for it. My body goes taut and suddenly I can't breathe. Ohgodohgodohgod what are you doing to me. My eyes go wide as I open my mouth to scream. There's no sound. You push deep in me, seemingly inches deeper as my pussy closes around you. You hold there, your eyes on mine. As my body bucks, writhes. Finally I drag in enough air for sound and I'm screaming. Not your name not words. Purely animal, primal. "Yes girl. That's it. Yes. Fuck yes." Dimly I can hear you, but the words don't register.

I'm drowning this time, my mind going fuzzy around the edges, unable to feel my body, only the sensations running through me, gripping me like a fist. Little death. Yes. A little like dying must be. Go toward the light, and the light is a kaleidoscope. A tiny corner of my mind wonders idly, but without alarm if I'm going to pass out. I still feel like I'm trying to breathe through water. My eyes slide closed, but I can still feel you, your cock twitching inside me, your low groans of pleasure caressing my ears. My hands are free. When did that happen? How did you untie that knot when with all my twisting and pulling I never felt it so much as slip? My fingers itch to touch you, to stroke through your hair, over your body, but my arms are numb, and I can't seem to find the energy to lift them. I can feel your eyes on me but I'm drifting, lost.

I feel you lifting, me, my arms slide around your neck automatically as I feel your breath warm against my ear. "No you don't little one. Stay with me. We're not done yet." The steel in your voice rouses me slightly, but I shake my head in mute denial, knowing my body has been driven beyond its limits. Your voice is there, your warm tongue teasing the curve of my ear. Your voice is strained now, but not with the tempered violence of earlier. With need. Its need I hear in your voice, and my body answers to that, responding when I thought there was nothing left to give, nothing left to take.

I raise my head from your shoulder, my eyes meeting yours and finally I realize that I'm wrapped around you, my legs around your waist, your hands supporting the small of your back. "Ride me." Your words are a low groan as my mouth moves to your throat, tasting sweat, heat. My hips begin to move, my breath catching as your cock moves inside my over-sensitive cunt, but the look in your eyes makes me hungry, makes me need. "Again." Neither of us knows who said it, but we reach for it together, your hands on my hips, my fingernails sinking into your shoulders. We strain together; eyes locked. The sounds of sex, of breathing, of desperate passion fill the room as we take each other.

I watch your eyes go dark even as I feel you swelling inside me, your cock growing larger, pushing impossibly deeper, the feeling of your impending orgasm sending me over the edge. My teeth sink into your shoulder, breaking the skin. I feel you jerk, knowing that pleasure has finally taken you, like a sharp kick to the base of your spine, then shuddering through you in waves as I feel you spill into me, thick and warm and wet. So deep inside me I'm sobbing. I can taste blood in my mouth, your blood, and instinctively my tongue flicks out to soothe the wounds I've made on your shoulder. You're still trembling, and I focus enough to flex my muscles around your cock, milking you, dragging out your orgasm. Pulling it from you greedily. With an oath you let us both slide to the bed. Our breathing is labored. The world is still tilted. Clinging to each other, drenched in sweat, steeped in the smell of sex we wait for the world to right itself.

Your cock is softening against my thigh. My fingers are tracing an idle pattern on your chest. I let my eyes close, surrendering to the fatigue. "Jack." I whisper your name softly, knowing that I should fight sleep a little longer, knowing that you won't be there when I wake. Shouldn't be. I have sex with men like you. I don't sleep with them. But I'm drifting now, between asleep and dreaming and it's easy, so easy for me to let go. You're still holding me, watching me, tracing your fingers through damp, sex-tangled auburn curls. You brush a kiss over my forehead, the tenderness surprising you, as it would have surprised me if I were awake to experience it. The part of you that is, in your mind, already dressing, turning to give me that last glance, that sweet goodbye is suddenly shocked to realize you have no such intentions. Your leg slips intimately between mine as you curl into me. In sleep I cuddle closer. You're more than mildly astonished that there is no panic, no regret, no desire in you to pull away. Here. Now. You're staying when you've never stayed. I'm sleeping, my head on your shoulder. You rest your hand at the small of my back, feel the slight instinctive arch of my body, and as you savor it your eyes slide closed. Into dreams you'd never considered dreaming.