Chapter 12 #3
Various tattoos cover his arms, each depicting a unique story.
He literally is a work of art.
Droplets of water bead on his broad shoulders, cascading down the planes of his defined chest. He has a barbell in his left nipple. His flesh is soft and slightly tanned. The chain he wears only seems to emphasize the slope of his neck.
His stomach is inked and muscled in the way that has every woman wishing to run their tongue across every hardened plane. He’s athletically toned. But that defined V-line that directs toward his perfect, thick, long cock has me weak at the knees.
He’s tall, muscled, and all man.
And when he takes his cock into his hand and begins stroking himself, I forget to breathe.
I can’t look away. I’m intrigued and turned on.
He isn’t shy. It appears he enjoys watching me watch him. I however am not that bold and cover my breasts with my forearm. My legs are crossed.
His large fingers wrap around his thick shaft, seeming to make everything appear harder, longer.
Every single part of him turns me on. He’s just so…enormous.
His hair is slicked wet, and his eyes are on fire. I soon realize that’s because he’s looking at me just as I am with him. I’m the one who’s eliciting this response from him.
I feel empowered.
Not afraid.
All I’ve ever associated sex with is violence. Never pleasure. So this feels disconcerting, like I’m doing something wrong.
“No, watch me,” Kit says when I avert my eyes.
He reads my discomfort. But instead of ridiculing me, he shows nothing but kindness and love. And that’s why I do as he says.
I watch unguarded as he pleasures himself.
And slowly, I remove my arm from across my chest, exposing my breasts to him. They feel heavy, needy.
Kit moans, his eyes eating me up.
“Play with yourself.” His request is exhaled.
It just makes this hotter.
Shyly, I uncross my legs, so I’m standing bare and vulnerable before him. I take three steps back, allowing him to see all of me.
“Fuck.” His hand moves faster, stroking over the head of his cock.
The sight is too much.
I need a release.
I slide my hand between my legs and begin rubbing over my sex. A hiss escapes me. I’m overstimulated. It’s too much.
Kit watches me touch myself, only growing harder and his movements more frantic.
“Two fingers,” he orders, the veins in his neck corded.
I slowly do as he asks.
It hurts, but I like the pain.
I finger myself while massaging my sensitive clit. I’m so wet. Kit can see and hear how much so.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he pants. “Come here.”
Hearing his affection warms my heart. This isn’t just physical. The electricity between us is palpable.
I stop touching myself and walk over to the shower. Kit grabs the back of my head and slams his mouth over mine. We kiss like starved animals, taking and giving. His hand never ceases jerking himself off.
But what if…
With lips still locked, I let go of my reservations and anxiously run my fingers down his chest. The hair beneath my fingers adds to the sensory overload. I glide over each bump in his abs, moaning into his mouth.
I reach the dark curls above his cock, and like his chest, I like that he’s natural. It’s manly and suggests confidence in himself.
I don’t think I dislike anything about him.
I place my hand over his and allow him to guide me as he gets himself off. He’s heavier and girthier than I thought. He slowly removes his hand. I nervously attempt to take over, but my inexperience shows.
I pull away, but Kit whispers against my mouth, “Do you want me to tell you what to do?”
I nod.
“Put your hand here.” He gently reaches for my wrist and places it on his shaft. “Good, now move slowly. I want you to feel how fucking hard you make me.”
I do as he instructs, clumsy at first but eventually finding my rhythm. “Like this?”
“Yes, exactly like that. Okay, a little faster. You won’t hurt me. This is all for you.”
I hold him firmly and quicken the pace.
“Oh, that’s it, baby,” he moans, his breath heavy. “Just like that.”
His encouragement spurs me on. I listen for the lull in his breaths, and when he shudders under my touch, I stroke him harder, faster. Kit whispers sweet words, surrendering his body.
And possibly, his heart.
“We’ve crossed a line, haven’t we?”
I nod slowly.
“I don’t ever want it to stop. Promise me that it won’t.”
Does he know that this is about to end?
I don’t want to deceive him. Yet that’s all I’ve done.
Which is the reason I need to leave.
“Promise me.”
He is hard and aching in my hand as I stroke him quickly. “I promise that no matter what happens…I’m yours.”
It’s the best I can do.
Our mouths collide in a passion-filled kiss, and when I stroke over the head of his cock, he hardens before moaning, his shaft spasming in my hand.
That was the most incredible thing I’ve ever experienced. That response was because of me.
When he grows lax, I release him.
“You’re incredible,” he murmurs sleepily, laying kisses all over my face.
My hand is sticky with his arousal. This substance creates life. Incredible, because at this moment, I feel reborn.