Chapter Three #2
We kiss for a long time while I rock my hips in time with the movements of his thumb. I think I could come like this… but just as I feel the glimmer of an orgasm in the distance, he removes his hands from beneath my skirt.
“Can I loosen this?” he asks, sliding his hands up the boned bodice.
“There are ties at the back…”
He hesitates. “Are you sure about this? Just tell me if you want me to stop at any point.”
I smile. “Thank you, but I’m fine.” I bend and kiss him. “I want you,” I whisper, needing to make him understand that it’s not all one way.
He nods, his eyes lighting up. “Okay.” He looks around me, finds the bow at the top and undoes it, then starts loosening the bodice.
“You’ll have to help me do it up afterward,” I tell him. “I’ll never be able to do it myself, and I’ll be talk of the town if I go down in a state of disarray.”
“A state of disarray,” he murmurs. “What a great way to put it.” He manages to loosen it all the way to the bottom, and the bodice sags. He pushes it down, revealing my pale breasts with their very pale pink nipples.
“Jesus, you’re beautiful.” He just looks for a moment, his eyes filled with admiration, and that makes me almost tearful. Then he slides a hand beneath one of my breasts, cups it, and lowers his mouth to the nipple.
I slide my hand into his hair as he teases the tip with his tongue, then groan as he sucks it. As a result, he sucks harder, and I arch my back, enjoying the zap of electric arousal all the way down to my clit.
He plays with my breasts for a while, and once again I’m close to coming when he lifts his head. Without warning, he slides his arms around my waist, moves to the edge of the sofa, then tips forward, lowering me onto my back on the carpet.
Propped on his hands, he presses his groin to mine. His erection is long and hard, and I shudder. “I want you inside me,” I whisper.
But he shakes his head. “Not yet. I want to taste you.”
“Ohhh…”
He moves off me, and to my surprise, lies on his back on the carpet. “Come and sit on my face.”
My jaw drops. “What?”
“Come on. Make yourself come on my tongue.” His eyes are bright, feverish.
I’ve never done it that way before, and I sit up and get to my knees. “Are you sure? You know how clumsy I am.”
“I don’t care. Use my face, baby.” He goes to push up his mask.
I stop him, though. “Don’t. I can still do it with your mask on.”
“You’ll scratch your thighs.”
“I’ll manage.” If he takes off his mask, he’ll want me to do the same.
I straddle his waist, lift my skirts with my hands, and move up his body. “Yeah…” he says enthusiastically as he slides his arms beneath my legs and helps me get into position.
Am I really doing this? I must have drunk more than I thought. I’m high on adrenalin and excitement and lust. It’s so rare that I get a chance to feel fully alive like this, and to throw all caution to the wind.
“Come here,” he says from beneath my skirts. “I’m going to eat you alive.”
“Oh God…” I lower down, leaning on the coffee table in front of me for support.
I’m able to fit just beneath his mask if I tilt my pelvis. He strokes my thigh, then I feel his fingers beneath me, teasing my clit before sliding inside me. Fuck, that feels so good… and then his hot mouth fastens on my clit, and I start spinning into outer space. “Ohhh…”
He licks and sucks while his fingers tease and stroke, and I watch the fairy lights twinkling on the Christmas tree through a hazy gaze before closing my eyes.
Is this really happening? Or am I going to open my eyes and find I’m still sitting on the stool in the bar, carried away in an elaborate daydream?
My eyelids flutter open again—no, the tree’s still there, and his mouth is still hot, the tip of his tongue circling over my clit, while his fingers stroke firmly inside me.
Oh shit, I should warn him… but I’m too far gone and I’ve lost the power of speech.
I rock my hips, arousing myself on his tongue, and I come hard, squealing with the powerful clenches that leave me breathless and panting.
When I’m done, I sit there for a moment, slightly horrified at what’s happened. He’s quiet beneath me, covered by my skirt, although I can feel his lips kissing my inner thighs.
I lift up and move down his body, somewhat clumsily, and find a large damp patch on my skirt. His face is flushed and wet, and he brushes it with a hand.
“Oh my God.” My face burns. “I’m so sorry.”
“Jeez, don’t apologize.” He licks his fingers. “Best to keep hydrated during sex.” He laughs and pulls me forward so I fall onto his chest. “Cupcake,” he murmurs, kissing me. “Hottest girl in the world.”
“Well, maybe the southern hemisphere…” I look at his suit and wail, “I’ve made your shirt wet.”
“Don’t worry, there’ll be a hairdryer in the bathroom.” He undoes his bow tie, then struggles with the tight top button of his shirt. At the same time, I unbutton his waistcoat, then start on the rest of his shirt buttons. When I get to the bottom, I push the two sides of the shirt apart.
His chest is tanned, with neatly trimmed hair, and I murmur my approval, brushing my hands across his muscles. Bending, I kiss each nipple, teasing them with my tongue, while he slides a hand into my hair.
I’m wearing a high-quality wig, so I doubt he can tell by touch alone, but even so, I sit up again, not wanting him to pull on it and dislodge it.
Lowering my hands, I undo his belt and the button of his trousers, then slide down his zipper over his impressive erection.
He’s wearing black boxer-briefs, and I move up a little so I’m sitting right on top of his cock and rock my hips, arousing myself on him.
“I’m hoping you have a condom,” I say.
He slides a hand into his trouser pocket, extracts his wallet, and takes a packet out. “Are you sure you don’t want to take this to the bedroom?” he asks.
I shake my head, continuing to ride him while he tears off the wrapper and takes out the condom. By the time he’s ready to apply it, there’s a damp patch on his underwear, and he blows out a breath as I move off.
“You’re driving me mad,” he mumbles, pushing down the boxer-briefs and rolling the condom on.
I move up, and he guides the tip of his cock into me. I lean a hand on either side and watch him as I slowly push down.
He exhales with an, “Ahhh,” as I take him inside.
Oh, the feeling of him being deep inside me is exquisite. I sit there for a moment, eyes closed, reveling in the sensation of being stretched and filled. When my eyelids finally flutter open, it’s to find him watching me, a look of sleepy desire in his eyes.
“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Like a fucking goddess.”
Nobody’s ever called me a goddess before. I really can’t believe I’m doing this. Briefly, as I begin to move, I debate keeping the wig for a bit longer. Then all thoughts flee my mind as he pulls me down to kiss me.
I’m starting to get hot in the gown… maybe I should have taken it off… but there’s something wicked and delicious about having sex partly clothed.
Pushing back up, and rocking my hips, I move the two sides of his shirt wide apart and admire his broad chest, running my fingers over his body and enjoying his masculine form. “You work out,” I state, loving the fact that, while he hasn’t quite got a six-pack, his muscles are defined and firm.
“How old are you?” he asks, brushing his fingers over my breasts where they’re exposed by the gaping bodice. “Actually, I should probably have asked that before we had sex…”
I giggle. “I’m twenty-six. You?”
“Thirty-three.”
“Oh my God, I’m fucking a pensioner.”
He laughs, pushes up to a sitting position, and pulls me toward him with one hand at the back of my neck. “You’re a bad girl.”
“Gonna spank me?” I whisper against his lips. I haven’t been spanked since my mother whacked me on the ass for knocking over a vase of flowers when I was six, but somehow I think Cupcake could be into a bit of BDSM.
What am I thinking? This isn’t me! Or maybe it is…
His lips curve up, and his tongue teases mine. “Would you like that?”
“I think I’d like anything that involved your hands on my body.”
He slides his hands up my thighs and around to fondle my bum. “Seems a shame to mark this pretty little ass. Although… the thought of leaving a handprint on that beautiful white skin appeals to me.”
The two of us are moving together, him sliding easily inside me. He kisses me while he talks, our tongues tangling between words, and I feel myself spiraling out of control again.
“You want to mark me?” I murmur. “Let other men know I’ve been claimed?”
“Like a kinky wedding ring?”
We both laugh.
“If you were mine,” he says huskily, “I’d never let you out of my bed.”
The thought sends a thrill through me… but then I remember who we are, and my spirits sink a little. “I wish we’d met differently,” I whisper. This would never work in real life. We only have this one night, and I have to make the best of it.