“Lysa,” Blake gripped his thick cock, “please take off your clothes.”
* * *
Lysa sat transfixed by the man at the bottom of the bed. Previously, she’d guessed at what lay beneath Blake’s work clothes. Now, she could see him in all his splendour and splendid he was.
Muscles bulged out of him in every direction. No fat or undesirable flesh blemished his body. What greeted her was a man in his physical prime. The only unnatural part of his appearance was the tattoos adorning his arms and shoulders. An interweaving of black lines, blending into an abstract pattern allowing the marks to accentuate his biceps and pectorals. Her mouth hung open, stunned by the size of what lay in his loins.
Her heart thundered in her ears and she let go of her knees, unfolded her legs, and hooked her shirt over her head. Throughout her mechanical undressing her gaze didn’t shift from Blake. She measured him, trying to determine if she could even ring her hands around his brawny thighs. The slightest movement on his part caused his stomach muscles to ripple. In his fisted hand, he held his colossal erection. She gulped air into her lungs. How would she accommodate that! He stroked it, nursed it and the smooth head bulged expectantly, leaking pre-cum.
Blake’s face remained composed, but she could see his chest rise and f
all rapidly, as if he was holding back, clinging to some last residual of self-control. Saying no wasn’t an option any longer, at least if she wanted to carry this through and become his wife. If she said no now, the arrangement ended, came crashing down around her and she would return to Earth disappointed and gutted by her lack of courage.
Her trademark boldness needed to be strong. She didn’t fear sex; she’d used it before to her advantage. Seeing his fine manhood caused trepidation, excitement, and pulses of tingles burst about her wakening clitoris. Her belly flip-flopped with raw desire and her mind expunged rational thoughts, allowing her to release her wilder side. She wanted him.
What she did fear was marriage. Committing herself to years on a desolate moon with this man she’d met less than a day ago. How ludicrous would things get before she pulled back from the brink and chickened out? However, if she wanted the marriage to be a success, to achieve her secret goal, she needed to prove to him that she was capable in bed and willing to please. If she gave her all, won him over with her body, perhaps, she could open up and tell him the truth. Some part of him had to bond with her, see beyond flesh and blood to the thinking, ambitious woman who lay lurking beneath.
She dropped the clothes on the floor and kept her arms to her sides. Kneeling on the bed, she rose up and put her hands behind her head, parted her knees and stuck her breasts forward.
“I’m ready for you. Sir.” She added the honorific, hoping he would see her as compliant and not a potential upstart, because after they finished fucking—and she anticipated many hours of it—she would tell him everything, then he might judge her differently.
He removed his hand from his cock and it stood upright against his belly. The girth alone seemed impossible to withstand, never mind the length.
“Do you have lube?” She lowered her arms as doubts crept in.
Blake laughed. “Nope. There are other ways, aren’t there?” He raised his eyebrows.
Far from feeling insulted by his attitude, the lure of his handsome cock brought her out of her wavering. She giggled, an impulsive unintended attack of nervous energy. She crawled across the bed, dropped her mouth open and stuck out her tongue.
“Good girl. Finally, I get to see the horny Lysa. I guess that medical wasn’t as arduous as you thought.” It had been, but she said nothing. It was Blake and him alone who’d fired up her hot blooded lust. Blake may claim not to have been with a woman for months, but it had been several weeks since the last time she’d had sex, and that time hadn’t been very satisfactory for her.
She perched on the edge of the bed, reached forward and licked the tip of his erection. Blake came closer, grasping at her hair, he tangled his fingers in the strands and guided her deeper.
Lysa spluttered. “Sorry. You’re just so big.” She peered up to his face and he didn’t seem to have heard her, his eyelids half shut, he growled, a deep throaty noise like a bear. He pushed her head back down.
She managed, just, to coat his thick cock with her saliva. Each lick of her tongue transformed the dry velvety texture into a tasty moist one. She cupped his downy balls, massaging them in time to her bobbing head.
“Not bad,” he muttered.
Lysa’s scalp stung as he snatched her head up. She gasped for air before he plunged her back down. He filled her mouth with his cock and it took some concentration not to nip him with her teeth. The head of his erection brushed against the back of her throat. She gagged, flailing her hand about until he released her.
“Don’t worry you’ll get better.” He held her head away. “Turn around, kneel on the edge of the bed. I want to inspect.”
Her pussy clenched, an involuntary reaction. She knew what he’d find. She rotated and positioned herself on all fours, her lower legs sticking out of the end of the bed.
Blake grabbed her ankles and set her feet wider apart. She screwed her eyes shut. He separated her buttock cheeks with his thumbs, then ran them down her slit, separating her folds. “You are so wet, but I can make you wetter, then you’ll have nothing to fear when I ram my cock into your sweetness.”
“Oh God,” shrilled Lysa. His tongue! He rimmed her, tasting her secret places, lapping up her juices. He must have knelt or crouched to gain access and he didn’t hold back. He flicked the tip of his soft flesh over her clitoris, pinched the hood with his fingertips and assaulted her directly. Between licks, he spoke. “Don’t come.”
“Argh,” she groaned, thumping her fist on the bed. “No more,” she whimpered.
“I’ve just begun.” He slapped a buttock hard and she jerked. That hurt! A hand of steel and the heat of this stinging smack didn’t diminish, but bloomed.
He gripped her waist with strong hands. She braced herself, steadying her trembling limbs. The head of his cock nudge her entrance. She held her breath as he edged forward, pulling her back onto him. She couldn’t do it, the last stand of inadequacy caused pandemonium. She’d split apart, rupture.
“Blake,” she blurted. “I… I…”
He thrust, knocking her forward on the bed, only his steel-like grip stopped Lysa from falling on her belly. A moment of stinging pain as she gave, accepting his thick cock without resistance. A long sigh greeted her own shriek. He moaned again as he slid back, almost fully withdrawing. Trying not to tense, she’d insufficient time to recover when he thrust again, banging his hips into her bottom.