Chapter 6 #2
She groans as I scrape my teeth against her bottom lip. She melts into the kiss for one sweet moment, then she pulls back and looks up at me again.
A little less nervous.
A little more entranced.
She repeats the exercise again. The same firm, demanding kiss, only this time, her lips part. Her tongue slips into my mouth. She explores gently.
I don't wait for her to finish to match her gesture. I kiss her back, my tongue swirling around hers, my thumb tracing her collarbone.
This time, she doesn't pull back.
She melts into the kiss.
I take my time touching her. A soft brush of my fingers against her neck. My palm against her waist. Low back. Hip.
Ass.
She groans as I cup her flesh with my palm. Over her dress at first.
Then under it.
Only a thin layer of cotton between my skin and hers.
She shifts us to the bed, pushing me into a seated position and climbing on top of me. "Not yet." She takes my hand and brings it to her chest. "This first."
"Show me."
She nods as she reaches behind her back, undoing the zipper of her dress. She pushes one strap off her shoulder. Then the other.
Ivy looks me in the eyes as she peels her fabric down her chest. She does it slowly, like she's unwrapping a gift.
This is why women hire me.
Because most men would grab at her tits right away. Or take off their pants. Move straight to fucking.
It's not out of malice. They're eager. Maybe nervous about their own stamina.
But it means those women don't get what they want. They're always rushed. They're always on someone else's terms.
I was one of those men, when I was younger. Before I learned how to enjoy the anticipation.
It's like watching a mystery.
Yes, I want to find out who did it. But that feeling of wanting it—
Needing to know—
Craving that information—
That's the best part.
You don't read a book and skip to the end. You enjoy every fucking page.
I look up at Ivy, take in the sight of this beautiful, successful woman staring at me like I'm the only thing she needs.
Desire spreads over her expression as she wraps her fingers around my wrist and brings my hand to her chest.
This is the best part of my job. I don't stop and enjoy it often enough.
It's like anything. I get caught up in the grind. Stop remembering how good it feels to make someone come.
But it feels fucking good. Sometimes, at least.
I cup her breast and run my thumb over her nipple. "Softer or harder?" It's always better to offer a choice between too options than say how is that. Then, people are invited to ask for more or less.
"Harder," she groans.
I make my touch a little harder. "Harder?"
"A little."
This time, I draw a circle around her nipple. A little softer. Then a little firmer. Firmer.
Until she gasps. "There."
Her eyelids flutter closed as I tease her. I take my time, moving with slow circles, then fast zigzags, back and forth, up and down.
I wait until she finally brings her lips to mine, then I move to her other breast and toy with her again.
She kisses me passionately this time, her lips parting for my tongue, her tongue swirling with mine.
We stay there for a long time. Longer than I can stand. But it feels good to want this badly. It's rare I feel this sort of anticipation. It's rare I have to wait for any sort of satisfaction.
I'm like a chef who's not used to feeling hungry.
It's nice to remember that dull ache in my body. The one that can only be filled by connecting with someone else.
Ivy pulls back, slips off my lap, slides out of her dress. Then her panties.
She kicks off her feet, so she's standing naked in front of me.
She has a gorgeous figure. She's curvier than she looks in her clothes. Even though she's slim, she has round hips and soft thighs.
I want to dive between them.
Usually, this is where I'd bring her to the bed, spread her thighs, taste her. A routine.
"I, um…" She reaches behind her for her purse. Pulls a small foil packet from it. "I'm out of practice with these."
"I can show you." I let a teasing tone drop into my voice. A playfulness. "Or I can handle it."
"That one."
"Soon," I say.
"Soon?" Surprise drops into her voice. She expects to set the terms. And she does.
But this is what she wants. A tease. "You want to draw it out, don't you?"
She nods.
"Come here," I say.
She tosses the condom onto the bed and slips into my lap.
I kiss her hard. I pull her body into mine, so her softness is pressed against my hardness.
The slacks are in the way, but she still gasps as she glides over me.
It feels too good. I won't last.
I'm going to have to go with routine. Some things are classic for a reason.
I tease her here for a moment, then I shift her onto the bed, on her back.
Slowly, I kiss my way down her body, stopping at her breasts, to suck on her nipples.
When I get to her belly button, I slow. I draw it out. Until I'm right where I'm supposed to be.
Then I go to her inner knee. I kiss a line up her thigh, closer and closer.
Until I'm there.
A soft brush of my lips against her. Then one long, slow lick. Because I want to taste her.
She's sweet, wet, ready.
But, still, I draw her out. A few slow strokes. Then firmer. Harder.
I find the spot she needs.
A groan falls from her lips. Her hands find my shoulders. Then my hair. She tugs at me, bucking her hips, falling into this completely.
I work her until she comes.
Her groans fill the room. She gets sweeter, wetter, more ready.
"Fuck." The word falls off her lips as if it's been waiting for them. As if she's remembering some old way of being. Some sense she used to feel all the time. "Take off your clothes."
I tease her. I shift off the bed and stand. Slowly, I undo my tie. "Like this?" I toss the red silk on the bedspread.
"Faster."
"Faster?" I unbutton my suit jacket as slowly as I can.
She watches, her eyes heavy with need. Not sure if she wants to tell me to hurry up or die from anticipation. "Faster." She decides. "Much faster."
I move a little faster as I unbutton my shirt. Then the belt. Shoes. Socks. Slacks.
Her eyes go wide as I push my boxers off my waist.
A lot of guys in my line of work advertise a monster cock. That's their thing. The biggest you'll ever have. For a small fee.
I'm packing a more normal piece of equipment, but, hey, don't knock normal. Most women have normal sized equipment too. That means we fit together well.
Still, Ivy stares. Not at the sheer size of the thing. Though, I suppose, if it's been a while, even a small dick looks like a lot to take. But there's no awe in her eyes.
There's some mix of familiarity and desire.
"You have a pretty, pretty cock." The word is pure sex on her lips. I want her to say it a million times. I want her to purr I want your cock.
"Thank you." I take another deep breath. Find a center. So I'm not too fast. "You're gorgeous."
Her blush spreads to her chest as she reaches for the condom.
I unwrap it and roll it over my cock. Then a little of the lube I keep in my pocket (in a convenient packet form). Just enough to ease the friction.
Yes, men are the ones complaining sex isn't as good with a condom, but women are the ones who feel actual tissue irritation. Especially if it's been a while. Or if a woman is used to bareback sex.
Fuck—
When did I last feel someone's skin against mine? Would I even survive that sort of intimacy?
I climb onto the bed. "Show me how you like it."
She nods, nerves slipping into her eyes, but just barely. She pushes herself up. "On your back."
I place myself in the middle of the bed.
She climbs on top of me, straddling me, her thighs pressed against my hips.
She looks down at me as she brings her body onto mine.
The first brush of my flesh against hers. Her eyelids press together. A groan falls off her lips.
It's been a while.
I lift my hips to tease her again.
She mutters a curse, pulls back, lowers herself onto me slowly.
My body disappears into hers.
She takes her time getting used to the sensation of fullness. Which is good for me. She feels too fucking good. Soft and wet. And I like her too much.
I'm not used to that.
It's fucking up my stamina.
That can be good. Flattering. But it's not what people expect from a pro.
I close my eyes. Channel thoughts of baseball. The most boring subject known to man.
She shifts, rising over me and taking me again.
I let her play with the speed, position, posture until she finds it.
Then I play dirty—
I bring my thumb to her clit. I bring my other hand to her chest. I toy with her as she takes me again and again.
It pushes her to the edge.
Her groans run together. Her hips move a little faster. Her eyelids flutter closed.
"Fuck." The world rolls off her tongue as she comes. She pulses around me, pulling me closer, taking me deeper.
It undoes me.
I release control. Let the sensations overtake my body. Let myself enjoy every moment of it.
The satisfaction in her eyes. The flush of her cheeks. The curve of her hips. The soft, sweet feeling of her body enveloping mine.
"What have you done to me, Ivy?" The words are half routine, half real.
What the hell is real anyway?
She looks down at me with a satisfied smile.
I help her untangle our bodies, take care of the condom, wait for her to come closer or ask me to leave.
She settles onto the bed and pats the spot next to her.
So, I nestle into the space, holding her body against mine.
I don't mean to fall asleep next to her, but I do.