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Dear Readers:
This is a scene, which is rather different than a story. I enjoy writing scenes. I enjoy describing that awareness of the other, that palpable heat of an attraction. Scenes, for my purposes, are not as developed as a story. While they do explore the details of a sensual encounter between two (or more) lovers, they do not always depict multi-dimensional characters with fully formed backstories. They may not always end in resolution, but they do often end with the titillating suggestion that there is more fun to be had between these characters. Having said that, I hope that you enjoy this scene for what it is intended to be.
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I'm about to pull the wrenches from the work bench when he approaches. "Behind you," he says.
"That's how I like it," I automatically reply, though he'd meant only to warn me to prevent a collision. His words are innocent, but I can't help myself.
His wry smile is almost audible from where he pauses in my small garage. "You know," he begins, hesitating. I glance back at him. His tussled black hair drifts down into his deep brown eyes. Our two motorcycles nestle into the space behind him, a background that nicely frames his muscled body. Standing there in his open leather jacket, he looks like he should be on a calendar.
He watches me closely as he continues, "I really enjoy it when you say things like that."
I raise an eyebrow, surprised. We constantly flirt, indiscriminately, with everyone. Dirty comments are the norm in our small circle of friends. My line had been reflexive, casual, teasing. But he is not teasing. It feels as though he's just crossed a line. A tendril of pleasure curls in my stomach.
What is it exactly that he enjoys?
I can't help the subtle sensuality in my smile. It seeps into my voice. "You enjoy when I say dirty things?"
A dark shadow passes over his features. "I enjoy it when you say you like getting fucked from behind."
Suddenly the room is charged with sexual tension. Whoa. Heat flashes through my body. That was unexpected. Maybe he's just upping the ante, taking our typical inappropriate comments in a new and exciting direction.
But every inch of his body seems to vibrate with allure. He's never looked at me this way before. The way that his eyes are holding mine makes my heart beat faster. Our weekly routine of motorcycle maintenance now seems a distant notion.
He steps closer to me. "And I enjoy it when you watch me when you think I won't notice." Guilty. My pulse quickens. His stands tall, dark eyes looking down into mine. He lowers his voice. "And I enjoy how you react whenever I touch you." His warm, soft touch slides down my bare arm and I shiver, feeling my nipples harden. He smiles at the verification. "And I enjoy thinking about you when I'm in bed." He tickles my wrist and my skin flushes hot. "Tied to my headboard, blindfolded, waiting for me to have my way with you." A flurry of pleasure races up my arm and down into my core, localizing between my legs. His words echo one of the many scenarios that have accompanied my own bedtime musings.
He leans in and whispers, "I would give it to you exactly how you'd like it," he grabs my wrist, hard. Oh, yes.
Oh, shit.
I swallow past a new tightness in my throat and the fluttering in my chest. I can't move away. I'm locked within this sphere of lust, trapped by the primal, sexy man before me. Desire makes coherent thought more difficult, but a dozen responses flicker through my mind. For a multitude of reasons, I should defuse this right now. Reasons like... um...
Electricity fills the air between us and crackles where he has me by the arm. Anticipation weighs heavily in my gut. Damn him. I should stop this, but the promise in the air is too tempting. He's right ? I've been fantasizing about him for months. Attraction burns through me. He says he knows how I'd like it, and his small demonstration of control confirms that.
With a deep breath and a pulse of pleasure filling my chest, I tug at my wrist. A test. He tightens his grasp. Mm, I sigh with a smile. Delightful.
I can see the confidence settle into his eyes. He's sure of me now. He knows he has me.
"Then do it," I say.
I've just added fuel to a dangerous fire, yet I revel in the heat of it.
He releases my wrist. "Turn around."
I hesitate, suddenly unsure Uşak Escort of what he thinks I've just agreed to. A lightning fast pair of arms spin me around and the weight of his body pins me to the work bench. He secures my arms before I can push back from the wooden counter. I feel a tension course through his muscles as he briefly grinds into me.
He stills, then gently grazes his lips against the exposed skin at my neck. I shudder as the heat of his breath raises goosebumps down my arms. His voice is a whisper just below my ear, "do you trust me?" A careful press of teeth tugs at my earlobe.
I feel like the question should warrant more consideration, but as I ride the wave of pleasure from being made helpless by him, I instinctively respond, "yes."
He pins me harder and stretches my arm across the workbench. "Yes, sir", he corrects me. He quickly grabs a zip-tie and deftly secures one of my wrists to an eye hook planted into the counter. Jesus, this is escalating quickly. I tug at the zip-tie and realize it will tighten further if I pull too hard.
I turn to protest and he clamps his hand over my mouth. "Unless you're going to tell me that this isn't how you'd like it," he pauses to release his hand and run a finger along my lips, "then this mouth is mine." He inhales deeply and his finger teases against the tinted border, gently caressing. "And unless this mouth is saying 'yes, sir' or 'no, sir', it will remain silent." Another pause as he watches my reaction, finger hesitating atop my lips.
He's giving me this last opportunity to back out from whatever this is. But I cannot resist this. I want to be controlled, dominated, taken. He knows what I need, and he wants to give it to me.
I respond by moistening my lips and taking his finger into my mouth. I move my warm tongue against it and suck gently as I lean away, releasing him. His eyes close briefly and I can almost see the wave of pleasure roll through his body. A need fills his gaze when he looks back to my mouth. "Perfect," he praises.
A rush of satisfaction fills me at that word. My own yearning to please him surprises me with its strength. Thank you, sir.
He shifts his weight and creates a space between my body and the workbench. When his hands reach around and begin to unbutton my pants, a combination of fear and excitement tingles though me. Christ, what is he going to do, fuck me? Right here? I glance at the partly open garage door. No one walking by could see anything more than our lower legs, if that, but I feel completely exposed, completely helpless.
And I like it.
With my pants undone, he tugs them down, exposing my silk panties. He leans back and I hear clothing fall to the floor. I glance over my shoulder as he tugs down his zipper. He's standing so close, I can't quite see.
He presses a hand to my head and gently forces it to the counter. Disappointment. Suspense. A small shuffle and a quiet sigh from him creates an image in my head of his solid erection waiting patiently behind me.
He lifts the back of my shirt a few inches. When he leans into me again, I feel his warm cock settle against my skin. My mental image gets more detailed as I feel the width and length of him pressing against my lower back. God, he is going to fuck me.
The thought brings the increasingly wet warmth between my legs to my attention. I resist making a sound when his hands trace along the waist of my panties, gently slipping under the upper edge. I hold my breath, full of tension as he leans in against my back. He whispers at my ear, "relax," and I find myself melting into the counter. "Good girl." His hand sneaks further under the front of my panties. His other hand clasps my unbound wrist, moving my arm, lowering it to my side and firmly holding it there. An expectant trepidation hums throughout my body. He is in control, and that thought soothes, frightens, and arouses me.
He reaches down, stretching my underwear away from my body. He is careful, not touching my most sensitive area as his fingers hover there, waiting.
His hips slide down against my backside. I feel the warm, firm tip of his cock trailing downward, leaving a smoldering line of desire in its wake. His cock falls below my ass and a sudden aching need tightens my pussy. He positions his shaft between my legs, grazing my thighs. He's so warm, radiating Uşak Escort Bayan heat against my skin. Pinned by his muscled body, and bound by his hand and the zip-tie, I can do nothing but remain right where he wants me.
A shudder of lust involuntarily rocks my hips against him. A frustrated plea, a soft moan of pleasure: "ohh."
"Shh," he reminds me. His cock responds with a quick pulse against me. "We're just getting started."
His delicate fingers reach lower, extending through my panties and tracing a line along my inner thigh. He draws slowly upward and inward toward the aching desire between my legs. His cock is so close, I just want him inside of me already. But he teases me with calm and torturous tenderness as he moves his fingers across to my other thigh. He traces tiny circles which spiral gently toward my center. I bite my lip to prevent myself from begging him. Please. Arousal courses through me and I can feel how wet he's made me. I squirm slightly against him.
The tiny touches stop and he removes his hand. The tension with me breaks. A pressure that had been building dissipates, and my body settles against the smooth wood once more. I groan, a disappointed sound, and I hear a low chuckle from behind me. He's pleased by my frustration. His cock shakes against my thigh as he laughs.
I close my thighs, surrounding his cock with my toned legs. My clit tingles with arousal as I surround his warm length. He's dragging this out. Why isn't he inside of me yet?
He squeezes my wrist and presses his weight into me again, moving his shaft forward between my thighs, a stroking motion. It rubs against my covered flesh in just the right way as he pins me to the counter. "Yes," I whisper. He pulls his hips back and then slides against me once more. He slips his free hand up under the front of my shirt. The thin material of my bra still fails to hide my erect nipples, and he pinches one. It's just this side of painful. A small whimper escapes me.
The next moment, he stands back, tugs my panties to the floor and kicks my ankles wide.
When the delicate touch of his finger alights against my labia, I gasp. Electric pleasure crackles through me. He continues, slowly caressing my smooth folds as he discovers how ready he's made me. Goddam, he knows just how to handle me.
His breathy voice penetrates this thickening cloud of desire. "You're so wet for me and I've hardly touched you." His finger slides commandingly down between my folds, pressing against my opening and then gently retreating toward my clit. "How long have you been wanting this?" He plays his fingers on either side of my mound and the heat that fills my head chases all coherent thoughts away.
He whispers, "Do you want?" he brings two fingers together and rubs my mound, "to feel my cock inside of you?" he slips them into my cunt, "and fuck you right here?" A wash of unmitigated arousal floods through me and I clench my fists. Oh god. He slips in and out, brushing my clit and leaving me breathless. An intoxicating pressure begins building within me.
"Tell me," he continues, leaning into me once more.
I shiver at how sexy he is. God yes. For months, every time he's said something suggestive I've caught myself entertaining thoughts of us together. I've wanted to feel his strength. I've imagined letting him handle me however he might choose.
His fingers slide in again, deeper, curling pleasurably and eliciting a small sound from me.
His mouth finds my neck and the scorching heat of his careful bite causes my knees to buckle. Shit. He keeps me pinned and firmly thrusts his fingers into me. His breath caresses my neck as he speaks: "I know the answer, but I want to hear you say it."
The power to form words briefly returns and I mutter, "yes. Please, fuck me."
He stands back, and the cool evening air fills the space where he had been. A moment later his warm shaft slides against my wetness, rubbing back and forth along the smooth skin. The ridge of his crown rubs a libidinous line over my opening. Everything about this moment is an electrifying turn on. But then: "that's good to know. Too bad you haven't earned it yet."
He releases my unbound wrist as disappointment and confusion fill me. "Give me your hand." I lift my palm obediently and he smears it with lube. "Wrap your hand around my cock," Escort Uşak he orders. He pulls my hand behind my back, behind my ass. My fingers touch his wet, swollen member. I hold his hard warmth in my palm and curl my hand to stroke him. Is he really not going to fuck me?
I squeeze his cock, hard, frustrated, and he promptly slaps my ass. "You're going to take what I decide to give you, little girl, and you're going to like it."
He holds my wrist firmly in place and steadily begins to thrust in and out of my grasp. Fuck, he is large. I imagine him filling me with his cock and a throbbing ache settles low inside of me. His free hand reaches low in front of me and I feel his finger slide over my clit before he presses into my opening.
Every thrust of his shaft is mirrored by his finger pressing deeper into my pussy. He finds a steady rhythm. The aching increases, a growing physical need. The pleasurable push of his cock and the steady stroke of his fingers strike a harmonious chord within me. I whine helplessly as the notes rise higher, resonating through every inch of me.
The urge to disobey rises. I want to angle his cock into me. I try to aim his tip toward my opening, occupied as it is. "Please."
"No," he lets go of my wrist and tightly yanks my braid. "I told you to be quiet," he growls.
I grasp his shaft and barely suppress another noise as he thrusts more firmly, increasing the tempo.
His cock sliding in and out of my grasp coupled with his finger fucking me brings a new awareness to my pleasure-addled mind: he's going to make me come. "Yes," I whisper.
He still clutches my hair and forces my face to turn toward his - "what was that?" he demands. He slides a second finger into my dripping cunt and I moan, "yes, sir."
"Do you want to come?"
"Yes, sir," I plead.
"Not yet," he releases my hair and his free hand grasps my shoulder. His rhythm becomes more urgent. His cock throbs in my hand and the wet walls inside of me clench around his fingers. I try to hold back the cresting wave, willing my orgasm to delay, not yet, not yet.
"Now," he grits. "Come for me."
The second I hear the word come, a tidal wave of sensation hits me, wracking my body with intense pleasure. I feel hot cum pulse into my hand as he continues his steady movements, pumping his load into my grasp and against my thighs. I shudder in rhythm with him. Another wave hits me with each thrust made with his fingers and cock. I clench my teeth over the moan in my throat.
The wave begins to wash away that full feeling of arousal. My climax abates. The groaning sigh from him tells me he, too, is returning to center.
"Good girl." He gives me one final finger fuck, curling his digits inside of me. He relaxes against my body for a moment, leaning into me, both of us breathing heavily. His teeth give a playful bite on my shoulder, and I smile.
He reaches down and handles himself, wiping his cock against my thigh. "Mmm," he hums, a pondering sound. I feel him lifting his cock before he presses against my opening.
I gasp and shudder, moaning for him. His cum is everywhere. The sexy thought of his semen entering me sends a new wave of heat crashing through my body. I'm overwhelmed by the sensation as he eases in every so slightly. "This pussy is mine now."
It is tight and tender from what he's just done to me.
With small motions he slips out, then pushes his tip back inside. The sensation is too much. The knowledge of how he's claiming me vibrates through my body. He slides out, then eases in again ? more than before. How is he still this hard? "Oh god," I moan.
He steps back suddenly, pulling out and away. Shock and disappointment flicker through my head. He returns with wire cutters and releases me from the zip-tie still binding one of my hands. I stand up and turn, glancing down. His cock is still erect, bulging under his patterned briefs. He's dressing already? He gives me that wry smile and pulls on his pants, carefully zipping them back up.
He sighs at me, those dark eyes full of smug satisfaction.
For a moment I feel somewhat exposed, his cum still on my fingers, still dripping down my legs. I push that feeling down and lift my fingers toward my mouth. Holding his gaze, I lick them slowly, showing him the pleasure it brings me to take his cum into my mouth. "Thank you, sir."
"Don't mention it," he says, his eyes intent on me. He watches as I artfully clean his cum off my palm. He rubs his hand over his crotch. "Stop it, or we'll never leave this garage."
"Promises, promises," I grin. "Come on, let's take a shower."