Clutching the knot of sheets above her head, Julie pulled herself across the bed away from him. While she wanted the young man who’d offered that aching confession, she needed to escape the brutal aggressor who pounded into her. Wriggling, she struggled away from the rough spike of his shaft, stabbing insistently, relentlessly into the delicate pink between her legs.
Apparently desperate with a need he couldn’t control, Dicky followed her retreat, falling onto the bed, dropping onto his forearms to contain her escape.
“Dicky!”
He stopped, panting, blinking down at her. His eyes filled with understanding then apology. “I’m sorry,” he groaned and she felt his shaft emit a thick pulse, an insistent demand for action.
With his hands underneath her shoulders, he lowered his mouth to touch hers and started a sweet, soft, kind kiss that prodded her senses gently. The love smoldering on his lips kindled a small fire of longing between her legs and, in an instant, took hold. In the next, it was out of control as her heart and soul went down in rampant flames and all that remained was a smoldering need for completion that only Dicky could address.
Dragging out of her unready hold, Dicky rolled away from her. Sitting on the bed’s edge, he yanked his T-shirt over his head, balled it in his fingers, and tossed it to hit the wall then got rid of his loose jeans.
“Let’s start again,” he told her as he pulled her back to the bed’s edge and knelt between her legs. With his eyes on her chest, he reached for her hands. “Feed them to me,” he told her, bringing her hands around to cup the bottom sides of her breasts. “Feed your tits into my mouth.” With his hands over hers, he pushed the tiny, shy mounds into his mouth a few times, then let his hands fall away. With a mouthful of nipple under the command of his tongue, his half-closed eyes were on her narrow fingers as she lifted and caressed her other breast.
With sudden interest, which could only be described as curious, he stopped and rearranged her fingers to partially cover her dusky pink nipples. For an instant he considered the result of his work, eyes warm with appreciation, apparently enjoying the image of pink nipples peeking shyly from behind the sheltering fence of her fingers. With a sigh of satisfaction, he took his tongue to one set of fingers, pushing them apart and forging between them with a long, wet serpentine caress. As his tongue laved at one nipple, his hand tangled with her other fingers as he used his thumb and forefinger to find the small bud of rose exposed between her spread digits.
A catching sigh of pure pleasure snagged in Julie’s throat, escaping her lips as her back arched and Dicky tugged on her nipples. In reward for this pleasure, she fed more of her breasts into the hands and mouth of the man kneeling between her legs.
With this encouragement to spur him, Dicky sucked the whole of her breast into his open mouth then let her go to coax each of her fingers into his mouth where he lavished the same extravagant attention on her fingertips. A warm glowing pulse settled between Julie’s legs, a slow burn that begged for attention.
Maddeningly, the scrape of his uneven teeth dragged along her fingers then dipped to pull at the nipples hiding behind them. The result was breathtaking, but by now, Julie was ready for him to direct his attention elsewhere. Still his stubborn, thorough tongue fenced with her fingers and his teeth closed on her flesh, caught at her nipples, ripping a line of fire between her tingling breast tips and the aching pulse between her legs.
Finally she felt his hands moving down her hips, stealing between her legs and she almost moaned in breathless, rampant anticipation. Gently, he tugged her legs apart, pressing them open with his palms flat on the insides of her thighs. Eager for his touch on her sex, she almost jumped when his thumbs tugged apart the needy lips of her pussy and held them parted and wide as his open mouth continued its attack on her breasts—sucking up first one nipple, lingering to abuse the tip with the rough scrape of his tongue, then moving to the other. As she fed her breasts into his mouth, he tugged and worried and nibbled, then scraped with his bottom teeth, constantly moving his head in an effort to zero in on the tender flesh he could reach between her fingers.
Then his lips brushed her cheek as he straightened and took her hands again, helping her to lift and push her sensitized nipples against the smooth skin of his naked chest. She watched his lowered eyes as he gazed at their hands together, just before he dove in to take her mouth, his tongue exploding through her lips with an uncontrolled, urgent edge of male desire in a raw, rough taking. His shoulders lifted as his fingers slid between her legs once more and he tucked his fingers beneath the curves of her bottom while his thumbs returned to open her sex. The cool wash of air on her hot sex caused her anticipation to spiral into a sharp edge of need. She wanted more. More than his thumbs spreading her pussy wide.
“Open your legs,” he breathed against her lips. “Wider, angel. Open them wide.” Drawing away from her, his eyes burned into her pussy as she shifted her legs apart. Then his light touch was in her open sex as he dragged his fingers from beneath her bottom, playing and fingering her damp folds with a feathering touch that was stunningly arousing but fell exasperatingly short of what she craved. He returned his mouth to hers, the press of his lips broken by rough gasping bursts—scorching intakes of ragged breath—the violent, restless aggression of his mouth directly at war with the soft touch that caressed and teased inside the lips of her sex. A sharp, unappeased longing built between her legs as Dicky doled out the small, miserly caresses with a skill that was consummately wicked.
Her torn breathing matched his as she tried to catch and hold to one of the volleying kisses that exploded against her lips then smeared a path of passionate destruction as it moved across her jaw. Following his lips with hers, she was just about to reach her target and latch onto his mouth, when his face turned heartlessly away and his burning mouth seared a path beneath her jawline to stop below her ear, denying her the long, quenching kiss she thirsted for.
Scooting her bottom to the bed’s edge, Julie attempted to get closer to him, greedily spreading her legs wider for his fingers’ wicked work. With sluttish eagerness, she pressed her knees outward, so he could get more, could give more.
So she could have more.
As she squirmed with a desperate yearning for more contact, she heard his rough breath of cruel, tormenting laughter just before he turned his lips to hers and raped her mouth with a hard, probing kiss, his mouth devastating hers, his teeth bruising her lips. Still his fingers barely touched and stroked inside the burning lips of her pussy while her sex whimpered for more.
Abruptly, his kisses turned featherlight, soft and teasing, his lips just barely within touching distance. At the same time, his finger slashed upward through the line of her sex in a bold stroke that tore a keening cry from her lips. Then his fingers were everywhere in her pussy as he groped at her possessively, cavorting roughly in a playground that he clearly considered his own. Again, he scored a line the length of her slot, pushing through her rutted pink with a pitiless disregard for the specific places she longed for his strong touch to loiter and prod.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his lips brushing the corner of her mouth. “That’s it. Cream for me, angel.” With his words, she realized his fingers slid easily inside the slick lips of her pussy, her cunt crying tears of sex, tears of frustration. “I want you hot and wet before I put my cock to you.”
Moaning at the sound of these hard-spoken words, Julie shifted her lower body against the uncooperative hand inside the lips of her sex as she attempted to guide her needy places to his inconsiderate, unhelpful touch. Her legs spread indecently wide as she pushed her hips forward, trying to feed her pussy to the fingers that stroked and tormented with an ability nothing short of sinful.
His harsh, moist breath was in her ear, roughened with a deep male hunger, murmuring sweet obscenities, promising a deep, dark taking. He was saying something about her tight, hot cunt when his fingers finally settled in the right place. She held her breath then stifled a cry of pleasure as
his fingers bracketed the needy flange of her clitoris then deftly closed to squeeze it. Pleasure pumped through her entire system as he pulled on her clit then repeated the action, then repeated it again. Repeated it until she thought she would scream from the full, insane pleasure dominating her lower body and concentrated in her cunt, her wet channel head-over-heels in love and spilling for the man who manipulated her clit with a searingly abrasive touch—where hot, thick lust pooled beneath Dicky’s wicked hand.
“How does that feel?” he asked, his voice heavy with lust. “Is that what you needed? Is that what you wanted?”
She moaned and writhed for him. “Dicky,” she panted. “Don’t make me…don’t make me…”
Lost for words, she heard his next question.
“What, Julie? Don’t make me stop? Or don’t make me come?” She tossed her head as his lips fed the warm, breathy question into her ear. “Do you want me to stop, girl?”
“Nooooo,” she keened, almost mad as the biting thread of desire tightened to wrap her hips and sting her lower quarters. “No, don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t make me wait.”
“Tell me how it feels,” he whispered. “How does it feel to have a man’s hands in your cunt. My hands.” With her clit between his fingers, he pulled and teased and twisted all at the same time and she gasped again, threw back her head, on the verge of something…incredible—and wanting it like an addiction. “How does it feel to have a man’s fingers all over your clit?”
“Oh, Dicky,” she sobbed. “Oh, God,” she said, as though they were one and the same.
“Tell me how it feels, angel.”
“Like a burn,” she squirmed against him. “A terrible, wonderful burning path that’s leading…God…that’s leading to somewhere I want to go.” With these moaning words, she pushed her lower body at him again, smearing her open, wet sex against the fingers that slid down through her folds to settle just above her vagina. His unkind fingers played with the sensitized flesh at her point of entry, the rosy pink surrounding her opening even more sensitive than the ripe, fleshy bud of her clitoris. Here, his touch tortured her on a deeper level, with a greater promise of satisfaction where he stroked the wet opening at a steady, heady pace and pushed her body closer to open orgasm. A hot line of sweat broke out on either side of her sex, in the creases of her thighs and she felt her own damp moisture trickle downward into the crease of her ass.
Suddenly, those God-given fingers were gone—his lips were gone—and her body was jolted by their absence. As she drew in a shuddering sob, his thumbs moved to spread her labia again. Wrenching her eyes downward, she stared at his darkly red head, now between her legs, and she choked back a scream as he blew on her burning sex. As he watched her open sex with avaricious interest, she felt the length of her open vagina pluck at the empty air. Again, he blew and, again, her vagina grasped at the orgasm just out of reach. Again, he pursed his lips to blow and her cunt leapt and clenched in anticipation before he could even get the breath out of his chest. Her cunt felt like a tightly strung guitar string poised on the point of failure, one tug away from snapping and unraveling with a single, deep note of release.
“Steady, girl,” he told her in a low, warm voice of pleasure, clearly delighted with her body’s reaction to his heartless manipulation. “Not yet. Not quite yet.” Carefully he pulled her legs wider and again that edge of orgasm grasped at her body like a heavy lust drug. “Steady, love.” Slowly, carefully, he lowered his head and reached out his tongue to her vulva to lap at the female moisture running from her vagina. “You’re so pink,” he muttered. “Hot pink and rosy.” His eyes lifted to burn into hers. “You’ve got to see this,” he told her softly. A fire of lust and anticipation flamed in his eyes as his gaze moved across the room to settle on the vanity’s mirror. “You’ve got to see all of this, as I fuck you.”
Julie clung to Dicky as he lifted her out of the housecoat and carried her across the room to the vintage dressing table. Mindless with need, she smudged her body against his in a vain quest for release. Upon reaching the dresser, he untangled her grasping arms and turned her to face the mirror. She ended up with her knees spread wide to reach the vanity’s narrow stack of drawers. The tiny table between the drawers was inset by several inches, giving Dicky perfect access to the hot running sex between her legs.
Deftly, he arranged her on her knees, pushing her legs wide on the dresser as he moved her hands to the tops of her thighs. With his chest warm against her back, he flexed his knees, skidding his cock head through the sodden, needy folds that screamed for more than the sweet sliding contact of his plum-shaped tip. In the mirror, Julie watched the dark, lush head of his sex push between her thighs as he made several, long, tormenting, maddening thrusts before receding again. In answer, her cunt grasped at him.
Her vagina was quaking again, on the edge of closing, when he finally seated the wide, blunt head of his cock against her weeping slit. Immediately, she writhed at the touch and all it promised, trying to lower herself onto his shaft. But her legs were stretched to their maximum and there was no room to move downward.
“Dicky,” she cried, begged, sobbed as, gripping her hips tightly, he penetrated her in long, slow, thick inches that promised deliverance. Promised, but delayed in that aching promise. Forging into her in a lingeringly brutal stretch, he finally came to a pulsing rest fully seated inside the tight walls of her vagina. Julie almost wept in relief. His thick, savage flesh filled her like a promise and a threat as his lips hovered just above her ear.
“Just how close are you?” he murmured with a savage upward thrust of his hips. She watched his face in the mirror—wild, aggressive, elemental and overpoweringly male—then watched their two bodies together as she knelt inches from the mirror, impaled on the thick shaft of Dicky’s erection.
Her head fell back on his shoulder and she watched her own body arch to push her small tits closer to the mirror. Firmly, he reached for both her hands and guided them toward the dewy thatch just above her cleft.
“I want to watch you come,” he whispered against her ear. “I want to watch as I shaft you, but if I start to move now, I’ll spill and I’ll miss it. I want to see your clit,” he said, encouraging her fingers over the thick, swollen cushion of her pussy. “I want to see the long precious line of your sex, open as you take yourself to orgasm, as you take us to orgasm.” Pulling his hands up to her wrists, he pushed her fingertips at her clit then slipped his hands beneath hers, and pulled her labia wide.
Despite his words of self-restraint, his hips began to move in an automatic male reflex as he used his thumbs to inch her fingers toward the glistening ruffle of flesh near the top of her cleft. “Do it, Julie,” he breathed. Open all your precious pink so I can see it as I fuck you.”
“Oh, God, Dicky,” she moaned, her head tilted backward and eyes half-closed as she gazed at the mirror where she was displayed on his body, her sex spread in his hands, the thick root of his cock buried in her vagina, his balls swaying between her legs.
“Wait a minute,” he said, lifting her right hand to his lips as he sucked her fingers up into his mouth. Returning her wet digits to her pussy, he pulled her open again, exposing the ruffle of her clit, rare and forbidden, to be consumed by his heated gaze.
Her hand slipped into her slot as she used her wet fingers to touch herself everywhere before settling the length of her pussy. As she watched her fingers move inside her folded pink, the edges of her vision started to darken and she thought she would black out as she approached shatter point. A few more flicks of her fingers and she surged into orgasm, her cunt clasping on the impossible length and width filling her, her body convulsing on the stake that stretched hard and deep inside.
Within her body, something incredible was taking place. Something she was helpless to stop or slow, though she’d have liked to slow it—just long enough for it to last forever. Something that felt like detonation—fireworks—burst and splashed at the back of her vagina where Dicky ripped forward
to drive against her limit at the best possible instant of perfection. Like a fish on a line, she danced and shimmered on the hook that sprang from Dicky’s groin.
“Fuck me,” he whispered in awe at her temple. Then he was moving inside her, his arms clamping her racking body against his as he shoved into her—pulled—then ripped into her again, his cock battling her spasming cunt with savage energy. Dicky reacted in an explosion of male need held in rein far too long. As Julie came out of orgasm, she watched his face in the mirror, the uneven edge of his rough tooth creasing his bottom lip as he pounded into her at the same time he drove her body down on his shaft. His eyes snagged hers, his expression fierce and feral, and within her a sudden new spark built at the erotic sight of that face, so primitive in its need, so male in its execution.
“What…” she whispered, “What does it feel like to you, Dicky?”
His eyes were glazed with a hard shining light. “Like the edge of pleasure. The edge of a promise,” he grunted as he continued to slash between her legs. “Like the only thing you can believe in. The only promise you can count on. Like a fucking wish about to come true.”
Without warning, she jerked into a second, sudden orgasm as his teeth closed on the shell of her ear, clamping the frail ridge of flesh between his teeth and lower lip. Again her body leapt within his arms as he strangled a roar in his throat and his hips rocketed upward to blast her with a searing flash of intense pleasure as his release washed into her womb.
Seconds later, they stared at each other, stunned—sex-slicked bodies sealed together in a warm bond, sweat-dampened ropes of deep gold and dark blood twisting together where their faces touched.
“Jesus,” Dicky breathed, his expression nothing short of staggered as he stared at the two lovers entwined on the mirror’s face. “That was beautiful. You were beautiful,” he whispered hoarsely, as he nuzzled his face into her neck. “Watching you on my cock, your tight little cunt stretched wide to take me. Seeing you orgasm on my fuck.” A heartfelt shudder of emotion ripped through the lean, corded muscles of his hard body and he held her tightly. “If I live to be a hundred, I’ll not forget this moment. I’ll carry that sight to my grave…and people will wonder to see such a withered old corpse with such a shit-eating grin on its face.”
In the Arms of Danger Page 6
