For so long I wanted to see him again. Know his name so I would at least have something to say when I touched myself thinking of him. And then I finally saw him again and I almost ruined it. I really thought he was engaged, and I was so angry. But to know that he wasn’t, that he was not tied to anyone, made me even more scared. I am so drawn to him, and I overthink stuff so much. Always thinking ahead, but I just needed to be in this moment. Letting him take me against a wall. Again.
“Please,” as much as I enjoyed his lips on my neck, I needed them on mine and I needed him inside of me.
Before I met him, I thought I had no adventure in me, no spark. Now it was like I had a thing for sex in public places. We were in an indoor plant room, so the glass was very shaded by a thick screen door. No one could see us, really.
But they could hear us.
My fingers fumbled with his belt, finally undoing his button and zipper. I saw his cock straining against his briefs, I never saw it that night. But I felt it. How much it consumed me; how much it stretched me.
I wanted to see his body. My hands flew to his shirt, undoing the buttons so quickly I thought I would snap them off. I all but ripped it open and raked my nails down his hard, chiseled chest as his mouth devoured mine again. I let my fingers draw through the hair on his chest, not too much, but just enough to remind me that he’s all man. I followed it down as it narrowed, leading to his cock. My tongue swirled around his, tasting the mint and cinnamon of his mouth. Like a latte.
He wanted to see me too. He broke the kiss only to tug my shirt off. He pulled my bra down, making my breasts rise and my nipples poke towards him. He sucked until they were hardened peaks, so budded I thought they would fall off. They ached. My sex ached. I couldn’t play anymore.
I tugged his lips to me with my hand, and as I deepened the kiss I used the other to pull him from his briefs. He groaned into my mouth, his hips bucking and his thighs trembling. I gripped his length, his base was so thick my fingers did not reach. He hissed against my mouth, his jaw went slack as I pulled upwards slowly, until I reached the moisture forming at his tip. I wanted to taste him, but I needed him inside of me more.
“Fuck me, now. Please.” I whimpered. His throat drew with a growl.
“Fuck, you’re so damned sexy.” I blushed at the compliment. At least I think I did, everything was so hot.
He widened my legs, and pushed my jeans down, pulling them off of me so fast they made a whipping noise. He pushed my panties aside, his finger rolling against the folds of my sex. I shuddered, my legs quivering and my eyes lolling backwards as it brought a wave of desire right through my spine. It was almost paralyzing.
I latched my legs around him, holding him tight. He inched against my sex, he is so big only the tip made me feel so full. His lips went back to mine, coaxing them apart as he entered me in one swift thrust. I wanted to cry out, but his lips silenced me, his tongue invading my mouth the way his cock invaded my core.
Fuck. Everything rattled, the whole place seemed to shake as he took me over and over. His mouth left mine, his breath went ragged and primal as he drove into me. his hand on one side of my head, the other clenching my thigh in a vice. His head looked down at us, and I did too. Watching him enter me, coated in the juices of our lust was so fucking sexy. Like nothing I had ever seen, it almost made me come faster.
“God, Tristan. Yes—yes ugh, yes!” So many things I said were unintelligible. I was vaguely aware of the ugh, ugh, porn worthy noises I was making.
I forgot someone could easily hear us. Or maybe I did not and I just did not care. He was fucking me so hard I forgot my name. Something with an E.
“Deeper please, I need to come.” I moaned.
“Fuck yes.” He groaned.
He gripped my other thigh, barring my legs open as he stretched my walls, his thrusts faster and deeper as he leaned over. My fingers clenched around his biceps through his shirt, my breasts bobbed against my bra as he moved me and the seed table I was on.
I knew I was close. My walls tightened, his groans attested to how hard I was clenching around him. I felt it in my belly, the slow build up, the warm and full feeling. I could feel it in my fingers already. When he leaned forward and closed his mouth around m
y nipple, biting softly; it was over. My orgasm seemed to last forever. Building up and up until it was so much, almost too much. Blinding as I shuddered and shook beneath him, my back arching and my insides trembling as the wave of pleasure whipped me around and ran through me like I was nothing.
Then his grunts grew shorter, closer together, stronger. So, deep he sounded like a fucking animal, he sure was fucking me like one. I wanted him to come, but as he thrust into me more and more I needed to come again too. I could never be finished around him, it seemed.
I used two fingers to work around my clit as I pinched my nipple, I did not recognize myself. Doing these things. He was making me do what felt good with no inhibitions. I enjoyed this new part of me, yanked out by him so fast. First a month ago, and again today.
“That’s fucking hot, baby doll.”
His bottom lip drew between his teeth, his brows furrowing as he went faster. Our skin clapping together, our labored breaths in the air. Flowers and sex should be bottled up as a scent. I was rolling over the boulder again, wading around in the sea of desire as I came and he followed suit.
His seed shot into me, so deep I felt it in my core. I milked him dry and he collapsed against me as he kissed me through our aftershocks. He released my lips with a wet pop. I sighed in content. My body was mush. Nothing. I was a cloud.
We regained our composure for a few seconds before he pulled away from me. I felt empty when he pulled out. He tucked himself back into his briefs, and he looked around the room. I fixed my bra and he returned with a towel. I used it to clean up, but it did not do much. I was eager for a shower, but part of me was still hot and bothered by the feel of him on my thighs.
“I’ve never been called baby doll before.” I was tugging my jeans back on, remembering the last thing he said.
He buttoned up his shirt, smirking down at me through his lashes. Mascara can’t even get my lashes like his.
“It’s uh, something I think of you as.” He replied warily. I put my shirt back on, standing up to look at him. His hair was a messy array, my attempt to fix it was useless. I think I just wanted to touch it.
“Why?” My brows turned up. A sly smile found his face. He seems like he doesn’t smile often, not genuinely anyway.