Chapter 32 #2
Then regret my request, as it means he has to pause his attention to my breasts, but luckily, it’s only for a second or two.
The top half of him is now completely naked.
Impatient to feel him against me, I twist so my chest butts up against his, loving the feel of his coarse, masculine hair teasing my bare, overheated skin.
I let my fingers toy with his nipples, and am rewarded when they harden under my ministrations, and don’t miss the way he groans and moves his hips as if to adjust himself, and how that hardness against my ass seems to be growing.
“I want this off,” he says gruffly, pinging the elastic on my bra.
When I reach back and undo the clasp myself, he reverently lowers the straps over my arms, and then my upper half is completely bare.
I feel no shame, as his sharp intake of breath tells me he very much likes what’s been revealed to him. “You’re fucking perfect,” he rasps out.
So’s he. I can’t help my hands greedily skimming over his six-pack, nor my eyes drinking in that defined V which leads down into his jeans. I’ve seen his body before when treating his stab wound, but I’d never thought I’d have the chance to touch him in this manner.
“Bron,” he groans, as I keep exploring.
Then, when his hands capture and start to torment my breasts again, it’s now me who’s moaning.
“Bron, will you let me see all of you?” I stiffen slightly, hesitating, wondering whether I can expose everything to this man. “Don’t worry,” he says quickly. “This is enough, more than enough, for tonight.”
But it isn’t sufficient for me. My brain is quiet, and my body’s needs take over, demanding precedence.
There’s an ache inside that’s getting worse every time he touches me.
If he stops now, I could see myself imploding, fraught with unsatisfied desire.
Pushing at his chest, I wriggle out of his arms and stand before him.
I see the resignation in his eyes, but acting fast before my nerves fail me, I bend over to remove my shoes, then pull my leggings off, leaving me in just my panties.
He sucks in air through his teeth and again groans loudly. “Fuck, Bron, you’re killing me.” After making a strangled sound, in one fluid motion, he’s off the sofa and down on his knees. “Sit, Bron, let me taste you.”
He’s not going to… is he? It’s the only explanation for his request. Anxious, not knowing whether I want him to, I obey his instruction. Seated, I press my legs together, but when he eases them apart, I let him.
The look of rapture, coupled with concentration, as he eyes my still-covered intimate parts, almost undoes me.
Automatically, I try to close my thighs.
I’m stopped by his throaty growl. Then, without giving me a chance to analyse what he’s doing, he’s pushing my panties to the side, lowering his head, and then his tongue zeros in on that part of me that’s spent most of this evening throbbing, tingling…
my vocabulary, insufficient to accurately describe exactly what I’m feeling.
There’s a sense of urgency now, as if something’s building, and only he can save me from it.
“Oh!” That feels so good. Like the ultimate itch being scratched. But he’s doing nothing to calm the tightening sensations coursing through my muscles. My hands fist at my sides, fingernails digging into the worn sofa covering, as the feeling intensifies.
Jeez, this man knows what he’s doing. My stomach muscles involuntarily ripple as he continues to lick and suck on that sensitive nub.
Instead of easing the feeling, he’s ramping it right up.
My whole body goes rigid as I’m reaching for something.
Lost in the amazing lightning bolts zinging through me from top to toe, I’m only vaguely conscious he’s pulled my panties down, and is now using his fingers as well as his mouth.
Oh God, that feels amazing. I don’t care that his digits are intruding into my pussy.
I only know I’m losing control of my body, and whatever he’s doing, he can’t stop, not until he’s reached the conclusion.
I gasp, draw in breath, in awe of how I’m feeling, knowing only that I’m chasing something that seems out of reach. Until his fingers do something inside me that, along with his mouth on my clit, has me reaching… reaching…
I see stars in front of my eyes as my body goes taut, like an elastic band stretching tighter and tighter until I feel like something has to give.
I start to think I can’t stand any more, when, finally, I reach and topple over the peak.
As everything releases within me, the intensity brings a scream to come out of my mouth.
That feeling I’ve been chasing has now overpowered me, and instead of immediately ceasing, it seems to go on and on as waves of my first ever orgasm go through me.
Short keeps up his ministrations, extending the glorious release I’m experiencing until I come back into my body, and his touch is uncomfortable. My hands shoot down, moving his mouth from my oversensitive nub. He lets me go immediately.
Trying to explain myself, I tell him, “I’ve never…”
“Might not be able to give you all your first times,” he starts gruffly, and sounds smug as he adds, “But I reckon I was the one to give you your first orgasm.”
“Is that what you call it?” I ask cheekily.
“Bron, you’re a nurse. Surely you know about…”
I place my finger to his lips. “You gave me an earth-shattering, out-of-this-world, cosmic experience.”
Sucking my finger into his mouth, he suckles before releasing it with a pop. “Glad to be of service.” He smirks.
“You can service me anytime if it’s always going to be like that.” My words come out on a contented sigh.
For a moment, my eyes close as I drift on a raft of pure satisfaction, then when I open them, they feast on the man, my man, still on his knees in front of me.
As he gets to his feet, I don’t miss how he’s discreetly trying to adjust his – going by the taut expression on his face – painful erection his jeans are constraining.