by JA Essen
“Nope, mine.” I go to take a bite and a plan suddenly hits me. Letting the treat drop from my fingertips, it bounces off my chest and to the floor, leaving a splattering of chocolate across the top of my cleavage. “Oops,” I banter playfully.
Zander’s eyes flash with desire as he saunters up my body and places his lips on my sticky skin. I grab a fistful of his hair as he licks across the tops of my breasts and moan loudly when I feel one of his hands slide up the inside of my leg and press against the thin material covering my tingling core. His fingers trace up and down my slit as his hot breath begins to pant on my chest, moving upward. I feel his teeth nip at my neck as his fingers press into the already wet material and begin circling my clit.
About fucking time!
His restraint has finally faltered as he grabs two handfuls of my dress and strips it up and off my body in one fell swoop, tossing it aggressively to the middle of the room. Reaching behind my back, I undo the bra clasp and let the lacy purple fabric slide down my arms and fall into my lap. Tight and ready for his mouth, my nipples beg for him to suck and nip at them as I grab his head and pull it to my tits. With one hand slid behind me onto my lower back, he pulls me forward onto his other which has slid my skimpy thong to the side and is sliding in and out of my drenched, needy core.
My moans continue to grow louder and more carnal as he slips what must now be three thick fingers inside of me. The way he has me held, arched off the couch, he’s hitting that oh so sweet spot inside with every thrust of his digits, all the while, circling my clit with his thumb. The entire surface of my skin feels like it’s on pins and needles as sensations pour through me.
It has been WAY too long.
Just as I feel the precipice creeping up on me, Zander suddenly stops, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean as he stares me in the eyes.
”What the fuck, Zander?!”
“Just hold that thought, baby. I’ll be right back.” The mischievous look in his eyes has my mind racing at what he’s got up his sleeve.
Moments later he walks back into the room and my jaw hits the floor. It’s the very first time I’ve seen him without a shirt on. The entire right side of his chest, shoulder, and upper arm are covered in a menagerie of tattoos. Holy shit he just got ten times hotter! The muscled dips of his stomach are peppered with a trail of light brown hair and my mouth begins to water as my tongue longs to run through each and every crevice.
I hear the sound of metal on metal and THAT’S when I notice what he’s holding. In one hand is his pair of handcuffs, and the other, his nightstick.
“Miss Upton, you have the right to not remain silent. Anything I say I can and will do to you. You have the right to moan in ecstasy and you better damn well believe I’m gonna make you!”
Oh, my, God. I think I just came.
Standing in front of me, he grabs me by the hips and slides me as far back into the couch as possible, removing the cushion from behind me. Grasping my right wrist, he locks the first cuff around it and lifts my arm over my head. I hadn’t even realized it, but the couch is pressed back against a small round conduit that runs from ceiling to floor. Clearly the placement of the couch is quite intentional.
Taking my left wrist, he raises it as well and locks it into place, now restraining me to the poll. Using both his hands, he traces the hyper sensitive skin on the under sides of my arms with the tips of his fingertips, leaving in their wake an electric sensation. Grabbing my lower back once more, he lifts me off the couch, sliding that same cushion under me, relieving the slight strain my arms were being caused.
“Yes, I do believe that will do quite nicely.” I watch with wide eyes as he tears a foil wrapper and rolls a condom down his nightstick. Setting it on the couch beside me, Zander sinks to his knees, grabs the top of my panties with his teeth and hands and slides them down, taking a deep breath through his nose. “Perfection.”
His hands keep going but his mouth suddenly latches onto my hyper stimulated slit, causing me to shriek.
“That’s it baby. Don’t hold anything back,” and with that, his tongue begins conducting a symphony on my core.
I pull against the cuffs, wanting so badly to run my fingers through that thick head of hair, and unable to do so. I’m sure it’s not comfortable for him, but I do the next best thing and wrap my legs around him, boot and all, pulling his mouth further into me.
Looking over the top of my mound, his tongue darts against my clit twice before he speaks. “Do you need something, Rachel?”
“Yes, dammit, I need you to make me come,” I all but growl at him.
“Well, then ask.”
“Zander, please!” I’m begging for my release at this point.
Grabbing the nightstick, he begins to rub it up and down my slit and I can see it glisten with my moisture. Circling my clit with his left thumb, he slowly slides the hard shaft inside me and my eyes roll back into my head as I close my lids. This is so fucking hot.
Slowly at first and then more quickly, he fucks my pussy with the smooth, thick rod. I can feel his eyes on me, but I’m too busy climbing towards my peak, like Icarus to the sun. I know the fall is going to be hard, but completely worth it.
There is a slight falter in rhythm as I feel a shift on the couch, and then Zander’s deep, smooth whisper in my ear, “Come for me, Rachel.”
With that, I’m undone. My body shatters into a million pieces of light and sensation as my orgasm explodes, rocking my core and mind alike. I wrap my fingers around the pole as my back arches up off the cushion, moans of pleasure bouncing off the ceiling.
“Holy fuck, Zander,” I finally manage as my eye-lids release and the light comes flooding back in. “I’ve never come like that before. Ever.”
He’s already unzipped his pants and is sliding them down his legs, “Oh, I’m not done with you yet.”
Closing my eyes, I wonder if my body can even take anymore before hearing the tell-tale sound of another condom wrapper being torn . Willing my eyelids open, I watch in awe as Zander rolls the latex down his impressive length. He brings it up close, teasing the shit out of me as he runs it up and down my soaked pussy. I’m about to start begging when he presses quickly in, burying himself balls deep inside of me.
“Jesus, Zander. I’m so…” I don’t even get to finish as he leans forward and presses his lips to me, parting my lips with his eager tongue and finding me just as anxious. I pull again, finding myself still unable to touch him, so, I take matters into my own hands. Grabbing his tongue with my teeth, I pull, causing him to cease the dance of our mouths. He cocks an eyebrow at me.
“If you don’t un-cuff me right now, I can promise you more of that and a lot worse.” I purse my lips together adamantly.
“Well, now, I’m kind of digging that idea.” He winks at me playfully, standing stock still for several seconds before finally caving and undoing the cuffs.
“Now,” I spread my legs wider for him, “make me come again.”
Zander dives back in, impaling his cock deep inside of me and quickly picking up the pace. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, I pull his mouth down onto my pebbled nipple that is begging for his mouth. “Bite it, Zander.”
He wraps his arms under me and grips my shoulders with his hands, powering himself into me over and over while working my tender breast with his mouth and teeth. Our bodies slide against one another, the sweet smell of his sweat mingling with the scent of sex permeating around us.
He nuzzles his head into my neck and whispers into my ear, “I need you to come for me again, Rachel.”
His body is tense and I know his release is close. Blissful pain rips through me as he bites down on the top of my shoulder, and what I thought was an impossible request abruptly begins to stir deep in my belly. “Grab my tits, Zander. Squeeze them.”
Putting his knees on the edge of the couch, he grips my breasts roughly, and I cover his hands with mine. His angle change has him stroking my upper wall perfectly and my body betrays me, cra
shing over the edge of oblivion again. “Oh fuck yes, Zander!...”
In nearly perfect unison, he finishes my sentence with his own. “I’m coming!”
Zander’s body tenses, and I do my best to wrap my wobbly legs around him as I feel his throbbing cock pulsing inside of me. We stare into each other’s eyes for several seconds, both completely sated, neither of us speaking a word. Finally, he rolls to the side and landing on the nightstick, pulls it out from underneath him, grinning ear to ear.
Smirking my mouth, I giggle, “Kinky fucker, aren’t you?!”
Five
Zander
November 24th. The day I’ve been dreading for nearly a month. Also known as, Thanksgiving.
It’s the first time I will be spending more than a few passing moments with Rachel’s family. I may put on a big, macho front full of bravado, but inside I’m a wreck.
“Will you just calm down, Zander.” Rachel slides her hand across the middle of the seats, taking my right in hers. “They’re just normal people, like you and me.”
I cut a sideways glance at her.
“Well, probably more normal than us, anyways.” She grins her little smile, full of mischief that I love so much.
Apparently, she’s not as innocent as she let on in our first couple of rounds in the bedroom. Two weeks ago, as she was in the middle of blowing me, I suddenly felt something toying with my ass. It caught me completely off-guard and when I yanked her mouth off my cock, all I got was a cute little “what?” in response. Somehow, without me noticing, she’d snuck in a butt plug and had planned on using it on me. After a few moments of “hell no, you’re out of your mind!”, and then a promise of letting me fuck her in the ass, I caved. I have to admit, it was one of the best blowjob orgasms I’ve ever had.
Okay, okay. THE BEST.
Sitting here in the truck, I know she can read the angst and indecisiveness on my face. I still don’t know if I’m ready for this.
In my pocket rests a little innocuous piece of metal that has my mind running all over the place. Am I really ready to give her this kind of freedom with me?
Beth really screwed me up for years and letting a woman have free reign of when she can come over and invade my space is not something I’ve been willing to concede to… at least, not until now perhaps. I see the look of question on Rachel’s face, and I quickly come up with another possible reason for my expression.
“You know I’m not comfortable with, well,” I wave my hands at the outside of her house, “all of this.”
“It’s just things, Zander. I know you think I’m nuts, but my parents really are pretty down to Earth.” Unbuckling her seatbelt, she leans across the center and gives me a peck on the cheek. “Now, let’s go inside. Dad is certain to have the game on. Ya’ll can talk about football ‘til the cows-come-home.”
Football. Yeah, sure, I can do that. No problem.
Rachel doesn’t even bother knocking, but since she still lives here, I guess that would seem kind of out of place. We walk hand-in-hand to the kitchen first where her mother is working frantically to prepare a Thanksgiving meal. It seems almost comical to me as I’m sure they normally have housekeepers and cooks working on most days.
“Hey Mom, we’re here.”
Mrs. Upton turns, looking quite flabbergasted, and dusts her hands off on her straight-out-of-the-fifties red and white checkered apron. “Hi, Zander.” She reaches her hand out and I take it softly. “It’s so nice to finally,” she cuts her eyes at Rachel and then back to me, “get to spend some time with you.”
Turning her attention to Rachel, “Would you mind giving me a hand with some of this to avoid it turning into a complete travesty?”
“Sure thing, Mom. Let me go show Zander to the parlor. I presume Dad is in there watching the game already?”
“Well he sure as hell isn’t in here helping me.” Mrs. Upton throws her hand across her mouth and turns beet red. “Zander, I’m so sorry.”
“No apologies necessary, Mrs. Upton.” I reply as sincerely as possible to relieve her sense of embarrassment.
Rachel grabs my hand and quickly pulls me away. “This way, hunny.”
Down a long hallway and around a curve, the area opens up to a room I could get very used to. The walls are a deep, rich mahogany colored wood and the floors are polished concrete. There are several windows and in between each are various pieces of framed and autographed sports memorabilia. A well-stocked wet bar, three overstuffed black leather couches, and the biggest flat screen I’ve ever laid eyes on complete the perfect ‘man-cave.’
“Daddy!” Rachel squeals, running up behind him and squeezing him in a bear hug. “I’ve brought you company while I help Mom divert the crisis in the kitchen.” She leans up on her tip-toes to his ear and even though she whispers, I can still hear her, “Be nice Daddy. I really, really like him.” Giving him a peck on the cheek, she vanishes in a whirl.
“Mr. Upton.” I extend my hand and shake his with a firm grip.
“Good grip you’ve got there, son. Says a lot about a man.”
“Thank you, sir.” The screen is on a commercial, so I segue straight into sports talk. “Who’s got the first game today?”
“Eagles and Lions. I don’t think it’s going to be much of a game though with Philly’s defensive line this year.”
“Or lack thereof,” I continue.
He smiles a half-cocked smile and starts to make his way to the bar. “Can I get you something to drink, Zander?”
“Single malt scotch if you’ve got it. Thanks.”
Seriously? “If you’ve got it?” He probably has nothing less than the really good, expensive shit. Dumbass!
“I’ve got a twelve year Glenfiddich or a Talisker.” He holds up the bottles for me to view.
“The Glenfiddich would be excellent, sir, thank you.” I try my best not to fidget.
“A double then?” He grins at me and my shoulders relax slightly as I nod my head. He pours us each three fingers worth and hands me a glass. “To family.”
“Family.” We raise our glasses in tradition.
“So,” he begins as I sip the warm, smooth amber liquid, “tell me about your family, Zander.”
I tilt the glass up a little further before I start. I’m going to keep this as short and sweet as possible. “I never really knew my dad. He left my mom three months after Raven was born, so she raised my sister and me on her own. Mom always made sure we had every opportunity we wanted and ingrained strong morals and a drive to succeed in us both. Four years ago, we lost our mother to cancer. I’m thankful it was fast though, as seeing her on all those machines, withering away would have been far worse if it had been stretched out.
“Raven, my sister, is four years younger than me and still lives in Montana. She’d just started college when Mom died and couldn’t pass up the full-ride scholarship. She does sports occupational therapy now with the University of Montana system. She’s really happy, and that in turn makes me happy.”
“I’m sorry you lost your mother at such a young age, Zander. I can only imagine how rough that must have been on you and your sister. And your father, well,” he finishes off his tumbler of scotch, “obviously his lack of presence did not hinder you in the least. Rachel speaks very highly of you and your character.”
Holy shit. Looks like my worrying was less necessary than I anticipated.
“Idiots!” He throws his arms up at the flat screen. “Looks like we were both right about Philly. Even I could’ve run for twenty yards through that gap in the line.”
I can’t help but laugh at Mr. Upton’s comment. “Well, at least the Cowboys and Panthers game should be a closer one.”
“Cheers to that, Zander.”
Just then, the doorbell rings. “Daddy, could you get that please? Mom and I are finishing up the last bit in here. You can show them straight into the dining room.”
“Sure thing, little-one.”
The two of us walk through the house and my stomach turns
. Rachel didn’t say anything about having to meet any of her extended family.
Whew.
My stomach settles quickly when Mr. Upton pulls the door open and I see that it’s Macy, her best friend, and her boyfriend, Seth. His eyes are as wild as mine were and I chuckle deep down inside.
“So good to see you, Macy.” Mr. Upton gives her a quick hug. “And you must be Seth.” Handshakes are exchanged and then we all make our way to the dining room.
The spread on the extremely large dining room table is impressive. Turkey, dressing, salad, cranberry sauce, green beans, rolls, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, okra… the list goes on.
“Now,” Mrs. Upton begins, “I hope everyone enjoys this. Rachel and I worked very hard on it.”
I can tell she’s stifling a laugh, but I don’t get it.
Rachel pipes in, “What Mom really means is that we worked really hard on getting rid of all the evidence that this was completely catered.”
She, her mom, and her dad all bust up laughing and the rest of us join in, albeit, somewhat uncomfortably.
Once grace is said by her father, we all take our seats and dig in.
Conversation is light and fun throughout the meal, ranging from sports between the guys, to the latest fall fashions between the women. Rachel finishes her plate well ahead of me, and that’s when trouble begins.
It isn’t long before I feel her left hand slide across my thigh under the table straight to my crotch. She continues talking to her mom and Macy about some new chick-flic while at the same time, her fingers are flexing and rocking against my raging hard-on. God forbid I need to stand suddenly because I will surely embarrass everyone. I don’t want to slap her hand away and draw attention to us, so I grind my teeth and try to picture my nana naked.
It isn’t working.
I cut my eyes to Rachel, but she’s completely oblivious to me, her head and attention is turned to the right towards her mother. I finish my plate up, push it back slightly, and slide myself down in the seat slightly, trying to get away from Rachel’s agonizing teasing. It works, thank heavens, but I get dagger-eyes in return for my retreat.
