by Rob Manary
I hold myself up with one hand, my thickness at her hot entrance. My other hand goes to brush a stray red curl from her face and I caress her cheek with my thumb. “Are you sure?” I ask.
Her hands move to my ass. We look into each other’s eyes for what seems like an eternity. I don’t know what I want her to say. I don’t know if I want her to change her mind. This is unfamiliar territory. No. I lie. I know I don’t want her to change her mind. I know I want to give myself to her entirely. I know I want to be inside her without a latex barrier. She nods. “I want you to come inside me, Icarus.” she repeats. There is no doubt in her voice.
I move forward, stretching her, opening her. She’s so unbelievably tight, so incredibly hot, and so wet. I’m hurting her, I can see it in her eyes, she closes them and gasps. She spreads her legs to allow me easier entrance. I push forward slowly. I try to give her time to adjust to my girth. I don’t want to hurt her. I thrust into her slowly. She cries out as I invade her tight channel, as the head of my cock slips inside her.
I’m inside a woman without a condom. The feeling is like nothing I have ever felt, and I’m barely inside her, only the tip of my manhood. I fight the urge to plunge deep, to take her, to make her truly mine. I know I’m hurting her. Her breasts heave as I have taken her breath with my initial push. She places a hand on my chest as if to stop me from going further.
“Do you want me to stop?” I don’t want to stop.
“No!” She smiles through her labored breath. “I want this. This feels so good. I can do this. Just give me a minute.” She lets out a breath and inhales slowly. “Just go slow, Icarus, go slow.” She nods and moves the hand that halted me from my chest back to my ass. With both hands on my ass she draws me into her.
I push my hips forward and she yelps as I bury my cock further in her. I close my eyes, her walls holding me inside her like a vice. She is so fucking tight. She feels so fucking good. I gain another inch with my thrust, maybe two. I look down between us. Her lips are pulled taut against me and her vagina is stretched wide around my cock. I have never seen a more beautiful sight. Her pussy is glistening wet and her juices make my cock glow.
I look back to her eyes and she smiles. Once more she draws me forward with her hands. This time she screams as more of me slides into her scorching tunnel. “Fuck, you’re splitting me open!”
I can’t do it. I can’t hurt her anymore. As good as this feels I’m hurting her and I don’t want to hurt her. I lean down and kiss her as I withdraw from her tightness.
“Thank you,” she whispers as she struggles to catch her breath. I can see her relief as I pull out. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” I don’t know why I say what I say next. I don’t know where it comes from, but I don’t regret it once I’ve said it. “We have the rest of our lives.”
We lay there side by side for a few minutes, not speaking and breathing heavily. Then suddenly St. Claire is climbing on top of me, positioning herself over me, rubbing against me. The friction is electric and my cock hardens again almost immediately. I look up at her in complete surprise and she smiles down at me before her expression takes on a look of pure lustful concentration.
“Fuck, Icarus... I need this... you... fuck, let’s do it this way... it’ll work this way,” she breathes. I nod and put my hands on her hips, steadying her.
She rubs my hardness against her little opening, and she rubs the head of my cock against her tiny clit. Her juices leak from her, coating the tip of me, making my shaft glisten with her honey. I move my hands from her hips to her thighs. I let her control the speed of our coupling. I give her complete control.
Finally, she hovers over me, aiming my thickness at the centre of her need, she begins to force herself downward. I watch my cock part those beautiful puffy lips. I watch as my dick begins to stretch her open again around my girth. Once more the head of my cock slides into her. Once more a sharp intake of breath from her as I pierce her. She settles with only my tip inside her again.
“This feels so good,” she assures me. “Fuck, Icarus, it hurts, but it’s a good hurt. This feels so fucking good. I can feel you stretching me. I feel like a virgin.” She laughs, biting her lip. She leans forward to kiss me, her hands on my chest to hold herself up. Her mouth on mine she slides further down my shaft, another couple of inches disappear inside her. She cries out into my lips. “Don’t you even think of stopping,” she warns playfully.
She moves up a little, and then down again, wincing a little on her downward stroke. Again, she climbs up until I am barely inside her, and then that painfully slow descent, until she stops with a little more than my head inside her. I steal a glance between our bodies, and it causes me to catch my breath. My dick lodged inside her is an exquisite sight. She is so tight around me, she is spread wide, and it looks incredibly erotic.
And I can feel her every inch. Sex has never been like this for me. Without a condom I can feel every quiver of her tight channel. I can feel how hot she is, how unbelievably tight she is. I can feel her walls contracting around me in a way I have never felt with a condom on. She has given me this. We are sharing this. It is an effort not to come each time she takes me further inside her.
Her slight up and down goes on and on and we are breathless. But still she has less than half of my throbbing cock inside her. I can feel scalding pre-cum flowing out of the head of my cock, into her. I have never done this before. It has never felt so... intense. On a downward stroke she looks to me. “Icarus, help me. “ She takes my hands and slides them up to her hips. “Take me. Just take me.” she says.
“Are you sure, St. Claire?”
She nods. “Do it quick before I change my mind.”
My hands on her hips I drive her downwards in one quick motion. I also thrust upwards at the same time as I impale her on my thick cock. She screams, and I can feel her forced to stretch out to accommodate my size. She screams again, but it doesn’t sound like pain this time. I feel her convulsing. I feel her pussy contracting and releasing around me. She screams again. “I’m coming, fuck. I’m coming.” I feel her juices stream out over me, flowing between us, she is soaking me.
It is too much for me. Usually I can control when I come, but not with her, not now, not as she comes around my naked cock. I let out a long moan, and start squirting deep inside her. I shoot again and again and again. My cock pulses inside her with each shot. She must feel me, she must feel me coming inside her. Her eyes go wide and she moves her hips slightly as if trying to milk every single drop from my balls. She confirms what I thought, squealing with each jet I pump into her she cries softly, “I can feel you, Icarus, I feel you in my fucking womb.”
She collapses on top of me as I release another torrent of hot cum into her. I’ve never come this hard or this much before. She smiles and closes her eyes as I continue to fill her. “Fuck, Icarus, that was, fuck, just fuck,” she whispers, catching her breath. “And we have the rest of our lives to do that.”
I’ve never been so happy.
Friday, Day 12
I wake with the memory of last night strong in my mind as if no time had passed.
I softened inside her; her walls clenched and released me for a long time as her orgasm subsided. “I never knew it could be like that,” she half whispered with wonder, still breathing heavily on top of me. She had stolen my words. Eventually, she dismounted from me. She moved a little hesitantly, I can tell I’ve hurt her, and it hurts me. A river of our mingled juices flowed out of her as she climbed off me. My cock stirs. I’ve been inside a woman without a condom. I’ve come inside St. Claire. A wave of panic rises. She snuggles next to me, into my waiting arms. The nebulous fear washes from me.
Sleep claims St. Claire first. As is my habit I watch her sleep. I watch the rise and fall of her chest until sleep takes me, too. Room service arrives at six a.m. We eat in bed. This is when St. Claire starts her day. At breakfast she giggles, “I can still feel you pulsing inside me. And fuck, Icarus, you’re st
ill leaking out of me. I thought it was me who hadn’t been laid in a year!” She laughs.
“You’re such a lady.” I laugh with her, but the image makes me stiffen.
“You love me,” she says, and sticks out her tongue.
“I do?” I tease.
She grows a touch serious, those emerald eyes ensnare me. “Yes. You do.”
And I am banished from her suite as she switches to work mode.
For a minute my cock aches as I can almost feel her tightness squeezing the cum from me. Guy is hovering as I leave St. Claire’s rooms so I figure Wayne will be alone. I decide to pay Wayne a visit.
I am soon at the Delta Chelsea, at Wayne’s door. He answers my knock a touch sheepishly and he should. I’m there to torture him.
“Wayne?” I ask. “What’s new? A long time since we talked. How is the life of a North Atlantic, what was it, tuna fisherman?”
He laughs nervously. “Good, Brandon, good. Nothing new really,” he stammers.
“I brought bagels and cream cheese.” I hand him the bag I had stopped at a deli to acquire. Half because I know he enjoys fresh bagels, half for the trap I was laying. “Maybe I should have brought hot dogs? Which is it you prefer?” I maintain a straight face.
He smiles awkwardly and laughs nervously. “You know I fooled around batting for the other team in college. I did some pitching and a little catching. I don’t know, shit, Guy’s good looking, funny, I like spending time with him.”
“You’re good looking and funny, too, Wayne, and I enjoy spending time with you, but I’m not going to go down on you.” I laugh. “So you’re gay now?”
“Gay? No. I’m not gay, Brandon. I’m just...” He fumbles. So desperately he wants my approval, even in this.
“You’re sleeping with Guy?” I twist the knife, I know he’s uncomfortable. It is mean that I am enjoying this so much.
“Well, shit, yeah, a little.” he says.
“You’re sleeping with him a little? How does that work? You just put in the tip? ” I adopt a confused look, but smile remembering how good it can feel to just put in the tip.
“We’re sleeping together, yeah. But I’m not gay,” he explains.
“Wayne, first I find out you are some sort of fisherman then I find out you’re queer? I don’t know you at all!” I laugh. Wayne is red in the face and blustering; I grow serious. I know he wants my blessing so I give it to him. He will always be my little puppy. “I don’t care. I’m happy for you. I don’t remember the last time you had someone and I like Guy. I’m happy for you.” I had spoken only a few words with Guy, but he seemed nice enough and I honestly couldn’t remember the last relationship Wayne was in. I really was happy for him. I wanted everyone to be as happy as I was when I was with St. Claire. I hope Guy makes him feel that way.
He lowers his gaze, but then brightens and meets my eyes. “Thanks, Brandon. That means a lot.”
I nod. “Is this going to affect you getting information about St. Claire for me?” I feel ashamed that I was still using him, but not ashamed enough to get him to stop. I should cut him loose, I suppose.
He shakes his head emphatically. “No! Of course not!”
And all is right with the world.
I go back to my hotel and make a number of calls. I’m wearing the same clothes I wore the night before. I don’t care for that. I shower and dress in a simple button down white dress shirt, and a pair of jeans. The concierge had a small package waiting for me when I passed. I unwrap it in my room. It is an emerald scarf the colour of St. Claire’s eyes. I make more phone calls, setting up appointments to view several condos that rent short term to visiting celebrities, artists, and diplomats. I insist on seeing the spaces that afternoon. I want to move in with St. Claire tonight if it is possible. I wrap the scarf around my neck and make my way to a waiting cab. I tour a dozen places and it becomes unlikely St. Claire and I will move in together as quickly as I’d hoped. I want a space where I can create. I need a room with lots of natural light in the afternoon. I find nothing suitable.
When I return to my hotel room the red message light on my phone is blinking. Six new messages from St. Claire, urging me to call her, offering pleasures of the flesh if I do. I really must do something about allowing her to get hold of me. The last message is St. Claire half shouting playfully, “Icarus, get a cell phone!”
I call her and she picks up on the first ring, as usual. She says nothing as she answers, the seconds crawl by. “Hello?” I ask.
“Do you see how annoying that is!” she scolds playfully. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling forever.”
“Looking at places,” I say.
It is her turn to pause. “Well, that’s okay then. Listen. I’m going to be here all night. My stage designer has flown in from Denmark and he’s only in Toronto tonight. I have an idea for the encore. I want all three of your paintings, “Icarus Rising”, “Icarus Ascendant”, and “Icarus Falling” lowered from the ceiling for the last encore to occupy the space above stage right, center stage, and stage left. I want monitors all over the stage to flash your other work. And I’m going to close the show with “I Wanna Be Your Dog.” So, I’m going to have to find out who bought the other two paintings and make them an offer they can’t refuse.” She is nervous. She is speaking a touch too quickly. “I mean, if that’s alright with you. You know, it’s just an idea.”
How often she takes me to silence I don’t know. I love it when she does. I stammer, “Alright, yeah, definitely alright.”
“Advantage, St. Claire?” She laughs. “So, I’m not going to be able to see you tonight. Unless you, you know, fuck, Icarus, you make me feel like a schoolgirl with a crush. If you come see me tonight at the rehearsal space I’ll do wicked things to you in the backseat of my car and I’ll take tomorrow off. It can be your day.”
“Sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.”
“Is it my turn to hang up or yours?” She laughs.
“Let’s make it your turn,” I say, smiling.
“Be here at midnight.” I hear her laugh as the phone disconnects.
I make another batch of calls, setting up more appointments. I flip through the channels and smile as I see a picture of St. Claire and me along with the news she and I have bought commitment rings. Then I’m surprised that the news that I have been looking for a place for us has hit the media already. I grin as they use the phrase “love nest” more than once. St. Claire calls again. It’s all over social media too. She is delighted.
At midnight I throw open the large doors to her rehearsal space and walk towards the stage. She’s wearing sweats and a halter top, a sheen of perspiration covers her skin and makes her glow. Her red curls are damp, evidence of her exertion. I don’t think I have ever seen a more beautiful woman. She takes a drink from a water bottle, and spotting me she yells, “That’s fifteen, everyone!” She jumps from the stage and tackles me in an enthusiastic hug. “I’m a fucking mess,” she says before she reaches up for me to kiss her. “Let’s get to my car.” Taking my hand we move quickly to her limo.
In the backseat, before I have the door shut, she is reaching for my fly and getting my dick out. “A little eager, St. Claire?” I laugh.
She runs her hand up and down my shaft. I grow hard under her touch. “A lot eager, Icarus. I love this cock!”
“You only gave us fifteen minutes,” I laugh and shake my head. I reach between her legs and she grabs my hand. “I’m nasty. I’ve been sweating all day.” The idea of her tasting sweaty and primal causes my cock to throb harder in her hand. I want to taste her badly. I meet her eyes. “I don’t care.”
She releases my hand and I slip it under her sweats, under her underwear. She gasps as I slide my middle finger up her slit. Almost instantly she is wet. I don’t tease, I slide my finger inside her and curl it upwards to strike her g-spot. She lets out a tiny whimper. I forget how badly I want to taste her. I forget everything but wanting to be inside her again. I stroke her and she moans low. “
Get on top of me,” I demand.
She cocks her head to the side, still running her petite hand up the length of my hard-on. “Sorry, Icarus. I’m a little tender from last night.” She grins and bends her head down to my cock. I don’t argue.
She is so tight around my finger. I love the sounds she is making as I work her tight hole. Still stroking me she takes the head of my cock between her lush red lips. My free hand goes to the back of her head. I rest it there as she starts moving her mouth up and down. I feel her tongue flick the sensitive underside of my hardness and a shudder goes through me. She looks up at me, pleased by my reaction. I love her eyes, those eyes smiling at me as she has me in her mouth overwhelms me for a minute. I can’t take it. I close my eyes to avoid erupting.
She takes her mouth from me and laughs a little as I regain myself. Wet and lubricated from her saliva she works her hand up and down faster and faster. I never stop rubbing that bumpy patch of skin on the upper wall of her vagina, her most tender spot. She takes the opportunity to breathe deeply; I can feel her contracting quicker and quicker around my finger signaling the beginning of her orgasm. I apply a little more pressure to her g-spot and she squirms, moaning again.
Her mouth returns to my manhood. Her delicate pink tongue swirls around the head of my pulsing dick. I can feel the cum rising from my balls. She sucks me then and runs her tongue across the tip. She finds the slit in my cockhead and massages it with that amazing tongue of hers.
I pull her head from my hardness. “I’m going to come,” I warn her.
“Come in my mouth,” she says, and retakes me just as I explode. I squirt and squirt and she works her mouth to swallow it all. As I am filling her throat with my hot ejaculate I feel her tense around my finger. My orgasm has triggered hers. I feel her squirt her hot juice down my hand. She keeps sucking me and a jet of hot cream I didn’t know was still in me pulses out and into her waiting mouth. I have to pull away, the feeling is too intense. A small stream of milky white liquid dribbles out of the corner of her mouth. She scoops it up and licks it from her finger.
