His fingers gripped my breasts, and with an expert move, gathered the material of my bra until he revealed the dark red points of my nipples. I’d always been ashamed that I didn’t have the delicate pink nipples that so many authors write about or the shade that showed up in so many nude pictures of women. I had this gaudy, wanton looking red color, and I hated them. Or I did before Keith saw them.
“Now those look fucking delicious.” And he went on to prove it when he leaned forward and took each one into his mouth for a nice long suck.
He got the first taste over with, and then he greedily sucked on them in turn, each nipple was teased with his velvety soft lips and the sensual brush of teeth. His face was smooth against my skin, but the sensation of someone else touching me was a contrast that was deliciously different from the soft wetness of his lips.
As his mouth tormented my nipples, and me, his hands began to travel further, down to the edge of my panties. His fingers skimmed beneath the scrap of material over my hips, before they tugged the material down. I felt his knuckles skim across my virginal sex, but he didn’t linger. Not just then. I had to shift around to let him take the panties off, but then my legs came right back up, right around his waist.
“Easy now,” he said with a chuckle. “Let me make this good for you, Celia. Let me make you come.”
He slowly slipped his hand between our bodies and drew a single finger along my opening. His eyes closed as his fingers sank into my folds and he felt just how wet I was. I’d read enough erotica by this point to know that being wet was a good thing. Apparently, it was a very good thing if the look of intense pleasure on his face meant anything.
With a groan that was a sound of pleasure and pain, he moved. He pulled away, pushed the coffee table back, and put my feet down on the ground. He wasn’t done though, not nearly, because he then split my knees apart and moved his face between my thighs. With a sure movement, he slid his hands under me and pulled me right into his mouth.
I’d have screamed if he hadn’t immediately found my clit and stolen my breath away. It was so good, too good and my fingers clutched at his hair to hold his head in place. I lifted my right leg, just enough to get the right angle as his tongue flicked over my clit. When his lips closed over the spot and sucked, I couldn’t help but groan his name. Loudly.
“Don’t stop, Keith. Please don’t stop. That feels so good.” I’d teased myself before, got myself off, but this was something else entirely, something that set all of me on fire and made my nipples ache for his touch. I’d never felt desire or pleasure quite like this.
I could hear the sound of his mouth as he worked me higher, but it didn’t make me cringe, it was just another stroke of my senses, all of them. I could smell his manly scent, feel the silky strands of his hair in my fingers, the sensation of his body between my thighs, and the way it felt to have one leg wantonly thrown over his right shoulder. I could hear the sounds we both made, smell the scent of my own sexual desire, and it all just... exploded.
Something tightened in me, something that felt so fucking good, but then there was this explosion and things fluttered as waves of pleasure rolled up from where his tongue was on my clit and straight up into my brain. Keith had gotten me off, and that was all I cared about as my shoulders twisted back into the couch and my pussy soaked his face.
“I’m going to fuck you now, Celia. I want you to tell me that you consent to it, that you consent to me sliding my cock into this hungry little pussy of yours. Can you do that for me?” He wiped at his face as I blinked my eyes. I still had my bra on but didn’t care. I just wanted whatever came after that experience.
“Okay,” I agreed, knowing from our texts that this was the dirty Keith, the one that needed me to say the words he wanted to hear.
I nodded to make sure he understood because I didn’t want to wait one more second. I had waited long enough. Taking me by the hips once more, he positioned me at the right angle before he pulled me closer to him. His pants were gone, and so was his sweater I finally noticed. I wasn’t sure when he’d taken them off, but he must have, I decided as I glanced down to see his bulging cock. Seeing his cock in the flesh sent a bolt of lust rolling through me. I’d never wanted anything inside me so fucking badly.
Seizing me in a powerful grip, he plunged his shaft straight into my pussy, burying it all the way to the base in a single explosive thrust.
“Fuck!” We both cried out, but my cry was one of pain. It was sharp, a tearing sensation that was being dowsed with cold water came over me for a minute. He held himself still for a moment as if he knew I needed to adjust. When I could breathe again, and my fingers gripped at his hands on my waist, he started to move inside of me.
A slow slide out and then a powerful thrust back in. Over and over, steadily, until we were both panting for more.
“Please, Keith. I need more. Fuck me harder.”
And he answered with an animal cry of lust and threw himself into doing exactly what I’d asked. His fingers clenched into my hips, dug into the skin so tightly I knew he’d leave his mark on me, and all I could do was hang on for the ride. My legs wrapped around his hips while he ground into me and I tried to follow his pace.
“You feel amazing.” I heard him say, and my eyes fluttered open.
“You’re so big,” I said, my voice broken and quavering, amazed at what it felt like to be fucked by him. His cock stretched me out in a way I’d never known was possible. In a way I knew I could never give up, even then.
He thrust deeper into me and I moaned with the fullness of it, every muscle cinching around him, savoring the pressure. He responded by wrapping both powerful hands around my shoulders and yanking me closer, giving him more leverage to grind himself against me. He fucked me with the desperation and ferocity of a man with one day to live.
Keith wasn’t only taking, he was giving. He drove me higher, into my orgasm but he was also taking it from me, demanding it from me so that he could claim it for himself, and he did it with such intensity that it should have been frightening.
That intensity ignited something inside me, a kind of deep-seated desire I’d never known before and it scared and excited me at the same time. I realized while the couch was rocking, and I was screaming as if my life depended on it that he wasn’t kidding. He was doing more to me than anyone had ever done. He was claiming me.