by Jaye Peaches
Chapter Fifteen
I followed him out of the water, using the small steps in the corner of the pool. He kept his hand about mine, holding me steady as I found my grip on the wet tiles. Once he released me, he picked up a towel and wiped his face then draped the towel on a nearby sunbed, one of those lovely padded loungers, and he adjusted it until it lay flat. How would we fit on that?
“Lie on your back.”
I carried out his instructions, lowering myself onto the towel and swinging my legs onto the bed. I leaned back on my elbows and droplets of water slid down my chest and belly, pooling in my navel.
He remained at the foot of the lounger, holding his cock and stroking it rhythmically. “Put your legs on the floor, either side.”
Again, I did as he asked without question. I tossed the loose strands of hair out of my face with a shake of my head. Neither of us smiled. A strangely somber seduction, paced painfully slow.
He knelt between my thighs. The sunbed creaked, its legs protesting about our combined weight. Lowering himself across my body, he planted his hands on either side of my head. I tilted my chin up, trying to peck a kiss on his lips, but he jerked his head out of the way with a smirk.
“Patience.”
I chuckled briefly. There was nothing patient about his demeanor. His cock bumped against my entrance, testing my readiness. He rocked up and down, awakening my clitoris from its inertia. I slumped down on my back, defeated by his teasing ways. Each little sway of his hips enabled his erection to penetrate farther. I wanted to grab hold of his shaft and shove him in deeper. I arched my back slightly, meeting his movements and pushing down.
“You want it,” he stated. His deep voice echoed about the room even though he’d spoken softly.
“Yes,” I gasped. I stretched my hands about him, pawing his shoulder blades. I tried to find some excess of flesh to cling onto, but my man was lean, trimmed by exercise. Instead, I ran my fingers down his spine, feeling each vertebrae until I came to his ass, a fleshy location to ply my grip. With my palms cupping a buttock each, I heaved him upward, a rather futile attempt to force him deeper.
He pushed back with his arms. “Tut, tut.”
His mighty cock jerked at my rim. How he held back was beyond my comprehension. My nipples stood out like small pebbles, while I sucked air in and out rapidly and curled my toes on the warm tiles. Every inch of me cried out to be rudely taken and conveyed to the edge of sensory delirium.
The spring sun suddenly burst through the windows, bathing the room in warmth.
I felt alive, vibrant and in desperate need of a good fuck. Those craving tingles zipped about my body, inspiring me to think of sex, the sapping journey of the previous day forgotten. My worries about money dismissed. I had Stefan exactly where I’d hoped to have him—between my legs. Did I really come all this way to simply ask a few questions and listen? No, the reality sank in. I’d come to salvage a damaged relationship, to kiss and make up. All those tales about great makeup sex bounced about in my head. Please, dear God, let it be so.
He took me by surprise. I’d drifted off into my own thoughts when he rammed the entire length of his cock inside me with one almighty thrust. I opened my mouth to scream and nothing came out but a strangled cry of delight. Immediately, my recuperated legs sprang into action. I wrapped them about his thighs until my toes knocked together. He was in there now and I wasn’t going to let him escape.
He panted with each swing of his pelvis. The sunbed rattled on its plastic legs, as with each pounding thrust he drove into me, pushing me up. To gain leverage, he seized the edge of the bed. It was then I exploded, deluged by the impact of my orgasm. Contractions sped outward, trampling across my taut belly and into my throat, which constricted, trapping the air in my lungs. I held my breath until it finished.
Unperturbed by my premature climax, Stefan continued his relentless onslaught. I clawed at his back, tightened my legs around his. Eventually, my groin couldn’t take his girth unsupported and I looped my hands under my thighs and drew up my knees. My bottom lifted and he went deeper. Each of my muttered ‘uhs’ was met by his own grunts. Gradually, my knees came closer to my shoulders. My own flexibility astounded me.
“Oh, fuck,” he exclaimed, slapping into my raised bottom.
He’d hit my tightest coils of inner muscles but also my G-spot. The desire to come flourished inside me, inviting my tender clit to climax. I feared the potent power of my orgasm. Would I be able to contain him if I came again?
“Please, please,” I begged. It was like one of his punishment fucks, except I wanted him to come, rather than concede an orgasm. I implored him to fill me, complete me. At that moment in time, we were one. The connection close to completion.
“Yes, now,” he commanded.
I wanted to buck, to thrash about, but he had me pinioned. I hung my arms around his neck as he pumped his cum into my eager pussy and I constricted about him, clenching with spasms. My delighted flesh rippled all about me, tiny waves of excited nerves, and my mouth gaped with a silent cry.
He punched his fist on the padded surface of the sunbed. I saw, through my narrow eye slits, his face contorted by his own pleasurable climax.
“Jeez,” he uttered. “That was…wow.”
My cramped legs gave out and I unraveled them then straightened them, while he slowly collapsed on me.
“Argh, you’ll crush me,” I wheezed.
With a few swift moves, we switched positions, and I found myself lying on top of Stefan with my legs tucked between his. I propped my chin on my folded arms and stared into his eyes. Under me, his chest rose and fell, still breathless from his exertions. He flicked a strand of damp hair out of my face. The warmth of the spring day filtered through the glazing, drying me on the outside. Inside, I was wet. I smiled to myself, knowing he’d planted his seed deep in my pussy.
“What?” He smacked my rump. I flinched at the sharp sting. I didn’t mind. It added to his sexual persona—a man who liked to play rough.
I remained determined to delve further into the psyche of the man who drove me crazy with lust every time he approached me. “Why do you need to be this…Dominant? Outside the bedroom, you’re a little pushy perhaps, but sex… My God, you’re a man on a mission.”
He tilted his head back and stared up at the roof beams. “I think it’s to do with my upbringing. Magda believes it is my innate desire to control things. Certain things.”
I twirled a tuft of his hairs around my forefinger. “Upbringing?” I quizzed. Would he open up to me or bury his past from view?
A sigh. His chest lifted high and slumped as he exhaled. “My parents divorced when I was young. I was six. I remember arguments, not bitter ones. There were issues about the practicalities of bringing up children in two locations. My mother didn’t want to live in Germany any longer once they split. She’d never been happy living abroad. She’d met my father when they jointly worked on a project. Some eco building. She designed the interior.”
“So you lived here and in UK? Must have been tough. Disruptive.”
“Yes.” He looked to one side. He seemed determined not to show me his eyes. “I was the piggy in the middle. Passed back and forth between increasingly distant parents. Always last-minute changes to plans when one or the other disagreed. My brother sided with my father and I with my mother. Hence, Hans stayed and naturalized to being a German.”
“How did this make you feel?” I lay my head to one side and his hairs brushed my cheek. If he found it easier not to look at me while he spoke, I would help him. I closed my eyes and listened to the solid beats of his heart.
“Unwanted. A nuisance. I didn’t take to being a teenager well. My dad threatened boarding school, believing if I wasn’t with either of them, I might stop fighting them.”
“Oh, gosh. That must have been hard.” I battled my own desire to hug Stefan, reassure him that he was important to me. However, he had to speak freely and without my emotions clouding his recollections.
“Yes.”
He stroked my back and I tingled with the fine touch of his fingertips.
“The control thing? What about it?”
He wavered. I’d hit a nerve again.
“I don’t cope with commitment. Sex is my stress buster. I lost my virginity in my late teens. I crave the control I find when I’m in a sexual relationship with a woman. Not a good excuse, I know. It has led me to having casual sex from time to time. Sometimes with more than one woman at a time.”
“Your need to dominate took away the insecurities of your formative years,” I ventured.
“I suppose. Magda disagrees. She thinks it is innate in me and it is part of my natural desires regardless of my childhood. But…”
His lack of confidence seemed at odds with the ardor with which he made love to me. I sometimes forgot how young Stefan was in years. I treated him as if he had the maturity of middle age, but in reality, he was finding himself as much as I was.
I had to soothe him as he floundered beneath me. “I admit, I like it—the control thing. As a sexual game. I’m not sure if I would respect it beyond that. I’m used to independence. There have to be boundaries to what we do together.”
“What I have with you is different, Mausi. Yes, I crave the sense of sexual domination, but I have this deeper need for…” He tensed and his heart rate seemed to falter in time with his voice. “You.”
Love. Why couldn’t he speak the word? I founded my reticence on my ability to trust him. His? Commitment, faithfulness. He’d hinted at it and circumvented it being an issue with me. Time would tell whether he could prove his trustworthiness.
Starting now, with two days in Germany.
Chapter Sixteen
I stood before the full-height bathroom mirror and wiped the condensation from the glass. A figure emerged behind the mist—me. A naked me. A few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have inspected my reflection for more than a few seconds, trying not to be judgmental about my weaker areas. Now, I’d grown in confidence. Bending over, I dried my legs, rubbing away the rivulets of water trickling down my thighs. They’d escaped from the bush of hair about my pubis. I pursed my lips.
Standing up, I stared at the reflection and wondered what a fully naked body would look like—naked of all body hairs. The idea intrigued me. Perhaps I’d gone crazy with impulsive acts of courage. First, letting a near stranger fuck me after one serenading clarinet solo, then the flight over to reconcile myself with Stefan when I’d yet to understand what made him the way he was. I’d allowed his dangerous fox’s psyche to seep into my own. I’d discovered a side of me that lay dormant—the daring Callie, chancing risks and putting her faith in another.
I found a razor in my toilet bag and returned to the shower, which I’d just used to wash away the chlorine from the pool. The steam still hovered about the cubicle. I lathered up my pubic hair and, with a few deep breaths, began the process of shaving them away.
I started in the shower then, when I struggled to reach, sat in the bathtub—a truly inelegant method. I concentrated hard as I twisted and contorted. I managed most of it, except the delicate folds around my sex and a small runway strip on my mound, which I debated removing.
“Callie!”
I dropped the razor and it clattered on the ceramic surface of the tub. I held a hand to my beating chest. I answered. “Yes?”
“Do you have what you need in there? You seem to be taking your time.” Stefan’s voice boomed through the door.
“I’m fine,” I shouted over my shoulder.
He rattled the door handle. I’d locked it. “What are you hiding?”
I brushed away the tiny loose hairs. “Hiding? What makes you think I’m hiding?”
“You’ve locked the door.”
“I might be peeing.” I clambered out of the bath and flushed the toilet. “See?”
“Come out.” He thumped the door. “I want to see you.”
I grabbed a towel and draped it around my body, covering my newly shaved parts. “My clothes—”
“You won’t need your clothes.”
Oh, gosh. I tiptoed toward the door, my heartbeat racing away. I clutched the towel closely to my bosom. “You’ve stolen them again, haven’t you?” I yelled.
“We’ve some catching up to do. You won’t need them,” he informed me.
My skin prickled with goosebumps, but I wasn’t cold. His calculating statement sent shivers up my spine. Having shaved my privates, I’d not prepared myself for an inspection by Stefan. What would he think of my impulsive action? I wouldn’t describe myself as a prude, but a naked pussy—what had come over me? I blamed my impetuous ways on sex. It made me lightheaded and pliable. What a hothead I’d become since I’d met Stefan.
“Callie,” he called. “Let me in, or come out. You’re making me horny as hell with this stand off.”
“Don’t you have things to do?” I stroked the handle. The temptation to open the door grew.
“Now that you’re here, I’ve re-prioritized. You’ve hit the top of my to-do list.” He sounded so close, yet remained invisible.
I pictured him with his sparkling eyes, firm chin, perfect nose and… No, stop.
I swallowed hard. “I’m a to-do?” My knuckles went white as I tightened my grip. I’d yet to draw back the bolt.
“Very much. Number one.” He paused.
My indecisiveness froze me to the spot.
“Callie.” His voice had acquired a softer edge. “If you don’t want it, just say make me number two, and I’ll leave you be.”
The choice swung back to my side of the court. “So I’m number two now?” I spoke quietly, resting my forehead on the wooden door.
“No, never. Always my first choice. I promise, Callie, nobody else will replace you. I don’t need…others to do what you do—and you do it so brilliantly—for me. I adore you. Come out, and show me your gorgeous body. Let me make love to you.”
I let out a tiny sob of relief. It was the first time he’d come close to anything romantic in his overtures toward me. Plus, he’d made a point of putting his other women out of bounds. No more Magda. She’d told me, and now he confirmed it. I slipped back the bolt and squeezed the handle down.
Stefan stood in the doorway, hands resting on either side of the wooden door. All six foot whatever filled the space and I walked straight into his bare chest. He wore boxers and nothing else. I dropped my towel with surprise at his proximity.
He lowered his eyes, taking in my nudity. “Callie,” he exclaimed, taking a step back. “You’ve… For me?”
I nodded. Maybe for him, but for me too. I wanted to feel sexy. When he touched me, I wanted the intimacy of flesh against flesh.
I’d hardly any time to assimilate his beaming smile. He scooped me up in his arms and marched across the bedroom. With little ceremony, he tossed me onto the bed and I bounced on my back. I shrieked when he took hold of my ankles and dragged my legs to the edge. His eyes twinkled as the bright sunlight shot through the window.
“What are you doing?” I asked as he spread me wide.
“You’ll find out. I’m going to take a closer look.” He knelt by the bed, lifted my thighs over his shoulders and hooked his arms around them, pinning me in place.
Now I knew. I buried my face in my hands. Those little tingles of expectation had exploded into a flurry of pulsating nerves firing off. It spread like a tsunami around my body, but its center remained exactly where his mouth descended.
First contact—a lick of his tongue. He’d flicked my clitoris with the tip of his warm flesh and I quaked with unconcealed pleasure. Another lick, another shiver of delight. He delved lower, sliding his tongue between my folds, and plied my slit with his oral skills. Such deftness he exhibited. The gentle edges of his beard tickled as he traced the outline of my labia and dined on my delicate flesh.
I writhed, twisting my hips from side to side while he continued his onslaught. His mouth joined his tongue, sucking my sex lips into his mouth an
d nibbling on them with the edge of his teeth. When his mouth enveloped my clitoris, he drew it out from under its hood and tickled it before rhythmically sucking my tiny bud into a frenzy.
He hid below my eyeline and I couldn’t see his response. I imagined his erection, bulging in his pants, waiting to be serviced by my drenched pussy. I scrunched my hair into fistfuls, trying to hold back from coming too quickly.
On cue, Stefan paused and spoke. “Don’t, not yet.”
“Quick. Be quick!”
He shuffled out of his boxers, chucking them to one side. He hovered over me, licking his lips, savoring my juices in his mouth. “Nice,” he said. “You taste good.”
I groaned with frustration at his delaying tactics, then I caught sight of his swollen cock. The veins stood out clearly, the shiny head dripping with pre-cum. I’d made him like that. I glowed with delight. My supposedly silly shaving endeavor had turned up trumps.
“I want to taste you too.” I smiled, regaining my confidence. I stayed my impending orgasm and shuffled off the bed. I knelt at his feet, my head level with his splendid erection, and sought out the rounded end with my tongue.
As he entered my mouth, I caressed his smooth skin, stretched out by his engorgement. His cock rested on my tongue, allowing my buds to taste his flavor. He’d bathed in another bathroom, so gone were the acrid chemicals, and in their place a lingering odor of soap and, my favorite, the musky smell of masculinity. I sniffed as I licked, taking in the full sensory experience.
He moaned, “Mausi,” from above, staggering a little on his feet before positioning them farther apart. He’d lowered his height, and I no longer had to stretch up to reach him, enabling my bottom to hunker on my heels, stabilizing my stance. I drew him farther into my mouth, sucking in my cheeks with the same rhythm he’d applied so expertly minutes earlier. My drooling quickly covered the dry, velvety texture of his erection. I smothered him until he hit the back of my throat.
