SIX
THE SEX. OH THE SEX...
-1-
He couldn’t hold it back anymore. The signs had been there, the teasing had been there, the endless hints had been there! So he acted. It was a risk, he knew it. Melissa Daniels was no Eliza Doolittle. Upbringing and accent has nothing to do with class. Keith could tell that Mel was a classy woman; the kind of class you get only through life and experience. But she hadn’t pulled away from him outside the restaurant—had, in fact, moved into him herself after he’d put his arm around her. So, this could not be such a risk.
When he kissed her now, she moved into him as much as he moved into her.
Her tongue entered him. He felt her heart slam at her chest, beating against his. Her scent made him delirious. He moved her, gently, backwards, to the nearest wall. She hit it. Her left leg started rising. It got stuck, and he noticed he was standing on the edge of her long dress! They shared a brief laugh as they both looked at his oxford shoe on her clothing, but the laugh was over quickly; over because he couldn’t keep his mouth away from hers. He moved the offending foot away, and let the exhilaration take over him as he felt her bare leg slide up over his thigh, and curl itself around his ass.
It was a beautiful ass, she thought. She squeezed her left leg tightly, making sure to press his growing manhood hard against her pelvis—and boy was it growing. Oh my. She couldn’t decide if it was because it had been so long for her or if Keith was just simply better endowed down there than most. She admitted it was probably a bit of both.
He felt like steel down there. All her thoughts were engrossed on it, engrossed on its size. She felt him pulse, felt him push against her and—“Oh my.” The words were like wails, moans of need and yearning.
He pushed against her again, and her mouth just hung open for a second while his tongue felt its way around inside her.
She wanted it, needed it. It had been too long. Too long! All reasoning began to take a backseat, all thoughts of “pride” and “control” and... Oh my god I can’t think with his tongue in me like this.
The sensations stung at her, sent pulses firing up her skin. Instinctively—because this was all instinct now!—she ground her crotch against his and rubbed!
Which is when it started. The orgasm.
She had no control over it. It...just appeared. There was the unmistakable tightening of all her muscles down below—her ass, her center, even her damn thighs!—and then...that moment of utter and complete silence just before—
“Oh my god. Oh my god!”
Keith realized what was happening. He felt her start to tremble under his arms, saw that timeless expression on her face—the face of a woman just before she explodes...
So he held her.
-2-
It was a cannon explosion. There’d been silence, no motion, an eternity of stillness in her mind, in her body, even in the room. Clamps had formed around her stomach, her waist, her legs and thighs and ankles. They’d squeezed down on her, tighter, tighter, unbearably tight! And then—
It had teased. First it had been a pulse, down below, a sizzling thrum of a climax, but nothing yet. She knew it was coming, knew she was too far gone; knew that, no matter what she did, the orgasm would slam her and rip her, right here against this wall, clothed and everything. So she made sure to get the most out of it, made sure to press Keith’s glorious cock against her erect nub—
That’s what did it. Finally!
The screams of pleasure were endless. The pleasure washed over her like buffalo on a stampede—chugga-chugga-chugga-chug. They rode over her, trampled her. Her head thrashed against Keith’s shoulder (oh god what a fucking unbelievably hard and sexy shoulder.) The back of her head hit the wall and even though it hurt she just kept slamming and slamming and being shredded to bits by the world’s best fucking orgasm to ever hit a girl anywhere, ever!
It lasted, what, a minute? An entire minute of just spasming bliss. She rubbed herself against him. Oh yes she did. If she wasn’t going to get him inside her, she was damn well gonna get the best she could out of this—embarrassing? unusual? unique?—moment that she could!
She felt the scrape of her panties, his slacks, and his cock behind hit, just grind against her. Sweat poured from her, dripped on her forehead, trailed slowly down the inside of her leg. Her nails dug into his back. She pulled him to her, closer, closer damnit!
And she rode the wave. She...just...rode the thing!
Slowly, exquisitely slowly, the release left her. It didn’t end abruptly. Like backwards contractions, the stings of ecstasy fired through her at ever-growing intervals. She kept rubbing herself against his hardness, loving the moisture she felt on herself now, loving the surge of endorphins, the scream of serotonin as it rushed and sloshed all inside and through her muscles and, gently, eased away all her tension; and filled her lungs with hot, soothing air. “Fucking hell,” she said into his chest.
And then she laughed.
She held him—held his warm, manly body against hers—and, just, laughed.
-3-
This was quite a dilemma she was in. She’d satisfied herself (not her fault; it just happened!) but Keith, if he felt anything like she’d felt during dinner, was probably now a pressure pot set to max and overdue for lid removal!
If she could read minds, she’d know this to be true.
Keith Devonshire was taut as a hawser in a raging storm. That Melissa had shattered in his arms like this had only made him want her more. He’d shared something with her, shared the most beautiful moment a man can with a woman—the moment of her detonating completely underneath him—and he hadn’t reaped even the slightest reward from it!
He was...“in a pickle”...as his compatriots liked to to say.
She looked up at him, eyes languid, grinning. It made him smile internally as well. He could only imagine how relieved she felt.
She was indeed relieved. She felt like she’d taken a two-hour long hundred-degree bath, masturbated seven times in it, and drunk three liters of wine. She could see the need in his eyes, knew very well what her “duty” was now. Hell, it was no duty, it was freaking common human decency! But, alas, she was so perfectly exhausted!
Dropping her leg from behind his ass and to the ground, she stood up straighter, felt her own ass touch the cold wall. Keith’s palms were on either side of her head; he was leaning into her. His gaze was intense, the heat from his body...intimidating.
“I uhm... I...” she started. “It’s...” She couldn’t tell him that! She couldn’t tell him it’s “been a while!”
But, it didn’t matter, because he didn’t let her. He moved into her, kissed her deeply.
And, just like that, she was ready to be had by him. Again.
-4-
They climbed the stately stairs of his home, up into a pristine white bedroom with space enough to fill a whole other house in. He led her to his white bed, laid her darkly-clad body over it, watched her golden hair tumble around her as she fell onto it.
He was...overwhelmed...by her beauty, he admitted. She looked like a queen, an enchantress of the dark arts lying on his bed. She smiled at him, red lips contrasted by a seductive black dress and the yellow curls of her hair. She lifted her feet onto the bed while he undid his belt. He was standing; she lay. Her knees went up, and her dress feel down to expose the lace of her underwear, the lips of her center pushing out against it. He almost ravaged her right then and there when he saw it.
Control, he told himself. Control.
Just watching her, feeling the pressure mount in him and holding it back, made him feel alive again! She slid two thumbs on either side of her straps, pushed them down. Keith licked his lips, couldn’t help himself smiling widely. She’d beaten him, he knew. She lifted her butt, and he almost looked away because it was too alluring, too enticing to keep his eyes on the bloom of her mound as it appeared, ready and swollen, before his eyes. He stepped out of his pants, pulled off his shorts. For a moment, he saw her eyes gro
w briefly as she saw him now. It happened sometimes when women saw him.
She leaned her head back, pushed her thighs down and outwards with her hands. And waited for him.
-5-
He was gloriously huge she’d noticed. Intimidating was not the word to describe the, perhaps, childish dread she suddenly felt at feeling that largeness inside her. Will he be gentle?, she wondered, staring up at the ceiling. But as she thought this, she felt his flat tongue lave her entrance bottom to top! He was kissing her! There! He did it again. And again. He licked the inside of her, the left lip, the right. She looked down and saw he was on his knees, licking her on the bed. Each touch, each gentle caress of his tongue on her vag sent razor sensations over her skin. She felt her breathing quicken. Her heart thumped in her chest. She heard her breaths like the breaths of a marathon runner desperate for the end.
And, just like that, she was ready for him again. No, she was screaming for him!
He tasted the sweet lemon of her flavor and couldn’t get enough of it. It was a drug. He’d licked once, and immediately done it again. Now he couldn’t stop. Her thighs—her beautiful, shapely thighs—tightened around his ears. His hands wrapped around her legs, pushing them against his head. He stuck his tongue in her, licked her tang. She moaned. Her hands rubbed his head and pushed him into her. He moved higher, pressed his lips to her clit and pushed.
“OH GOD!” She raised her butt off the bed and clutched at his head! It was heaven. Absolute— “Keith... Keith... If you carry on... Oh, god, Keith, I’m—”
He licked her; licked her nub and sucked and pressed and—
She started riding him, pushing against his lips and pressing and—
She fired back away from him! Breathing raggedly! Legs quivering! She smiled. “Oh god! I almost— You almost made me—”
He stood from his knees, cock gleaming and pulsing, screaming to the heavens.
Melissa lifted her dress off in a hurry. She couldn’t wait any longer.
Seeing her, nude and voluptuous, made him impatient. He needed her now, needed all of her. He wanted to feel her softness below him as he entered her, wanted to hold her as she collapsed, once again, under him, but this time with him inside her.
She undid her bra, let her curvesome breasts show themselves. The size of her nipples taunted him. Everything about this woman called him to her.
She eased slightly back on the bed, teased him to come to her with one curling finger. Keith opened his drawer, pulled out a rubber and—gently!—slid the boy on.
Keith had a problem at the moment: Melissa was...so alluring....so exquisite...and had turned him on so much with her first (and almost her second) orgasm that he, well, was nearly there! Every touch down below threatened to undo him. Even slipping the rubber on had been an act of agonizing restraint.
He kneeled on the bed, cock shining, ready to push her onto her back and slide himself into her (and, hopefully, have enough stamina to satisfy her again!) But she had other plans. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft—oh god no, Melissa, I won’t manage it!—and, moved her lips forward to taste—
“No,” he said desperately. “I...just... I just...” Fuckit! There was no time for words!
He pushed her shoulders back with both hands. Her head fell onto his giant pillow. He pushed her left leg out by the thigh, looked down, grabbed his pulsing and desperate cock, moved its head to just under her nether lips so they enwrapped his tip. She moaned, and the moan itself was like a scraping caress of his manhood. He played with her a little there, pushed left, right, up, down, just watching her swollen lips water up and beg for him to enter her. It was as much an exercise in turning her on, as it was in gathering control of himself again!
Her pelvis began to rock, trying to push herself into him. Keith’s mind whirled. This was too good, too sensuous for him to hold back any more. He looked at her face, the head of his shaft just pressing into her tight entrance, ready to be thrust in. Her eyes were closed, she was biting her lower lip. He pushed just slightly into her and she bit down harder, moaned. The moan seemed to come all the way from the bottom of her stomach.
“Melissa.” She opened her eyes. And that’s all he’d wanted, for her to look directly at him.
He thrust! Her eyes went wide, her lips parted, her head raised slightly off the pillow, her arms fired up to his waist, her neck muscles went tight.
Incredulously, she said, “Oh. Wow!” And then she paused, not moving, every muscle in her now suddenly taut as a sailing rope. And, finally: “Fuck.” Pause. Her eyes closed slightly. And she finally managed the final word in her lengthy dissertation of actually just trying to tell him that she was orgasming again! “Damn.”
Relief landed on Keith like a speeding semi-truck. And just as she exploded, so did he.
-6-
It was violent, so violent. That’s the only way to explain it. He couldn’t get it out of himself fast enough. It had been waiting, sitting at the base of his cock for how long—since he’d met her? So when he felt that trickle, that tickle and slight movement right at the bottom of his shaft...He. Let. Rip.
He fucked her. That isn’t an elegant way to state it, true, but that’s what he did. And it isn’t meant disrespectfully, because Keith had the utmost respect for this...sumptuous, enticing, captivating and intriguing woman. To say he fucked her means he held her harder than he’d ever held any woman before her, and he pushed into her deeper and further than he’d ever pushed into anyone else. Because he just couldn’t get close enough to her.
And he also did something else: He kissed her. Whilst his cock pounded and caromed and slammed inside her and against her entrance, they kissed. Passionately, endearingly, needfully. It crossed his mind—vaguely, because he would never admit of such a thing!—that, maybe, just maybe, they were both two lost souls who’d...found “something” in each other?
Pft! There was no such thing...
But this thing, this union they were currently experiencing—her wails and gasps; her moans; his roars; her caresses of his back as he continued to, endlessly, ride her!—this was, indeed...different. Yes, it was “different,” he realized.
He wanted more of it.
He pushed far into her, saw her eyes roll back as he lost control of himself. The final drops seeped out of him. And, finally, he was satisfied. For now.
Her body was drenched. The gleam of sweat on her milky skin only increased his want. He kept himself inside her, kept pushing and thrusting into her. He noticed he wasn’t softening very much. He’d waited too long.
He kept it slow, kept it gentle for now. She kept rocking with him, enjoying the pleasure of it even though it was over. The more he moved in and out, the more he felt that it wasn’t over. They rocked like that for twenty minutes. And after twenty minutes, he needed more.
Melissa Daniels was done, finished, smiling like a cat and loving every massage of Keith Devonshire’s hardness inside her. She’d missed having a man in her; not just any man. But a man that she could somehow respect. She knew Keith was that kind of man. That she knew this meant nothing special particularly. She didn’t love him! Of course not. She’d just met him! But she did respect him. She liked his company. And loved his body!
She let him ride into her. She was finished herself. She’d widened below already, but his movements soothed her. And every now and then, one of his harder thrusts excited her.
When he started pumping again, furiously, she let him. She closed her eyes, listened to the slap of skin of skin, getting faster. She heard his roar, felt his need for release again. That release came. She heard it in him first as a desperate wail, a low rumble in his chest.
And then she felt him, down below, as he exploded into her.
She held him, felt his skin break out in sweat, tightened her voluptuous legs around his butt and just let him roll into her!
In a rough, ragged voice, he cried, right by her ear, “Oh, GOD!”
She held him tighter, felt him thrust right up into h
er. And then he eased down.
And, finally, out.
-7-
“Spend the night,” he asked her.
She thought of Jacob suddenly.
She got up, called her son, found out that everything was ok. When Jacob asked his mother where she was, she said she was “at a friend.”
“A man-friend?”
She lied.
Jacob quickly lost interest. He told her he was playing Scrabble with the girls and that he was winning. Of course he was.
She missed him, she realized. Really missed him. Her son, the greatest man in her life. “OK, well, call mommy if you need anything, OK?”
Jacob’s response was bored. Like: Why would he ever need her?
He did, however, mention all the activities “Auntie Nadja” had planned for them on Easter Sunday, the most exciting of which was the trip to the nearest Cadbury’s Eggsplorer Trail. Fortunately, Nadja’s husband Philip was very good at trailing the kids along on this hunt every year while Mel and her best friend downed beers and talked about men. As usual.
Mel finally said goodbye and put the phone down, almost feeling a tear in her eye. She missed her son already.
She turned to face Keith Devonshire on his bed. He looked like a stripper. It was a dream, all of this. A young girl’s dream. She could never give up her life to gallivant with a man like him. He might be a great man, sure. But life had taken its turns, and things were as they were. There was no changing it. And she had responsibilities.
But tonight? Of course she could spend the night. She might even spend another night with him, if it went that way. And if not with him again, if it turned out they weren’t meant to be, maybe another man. Maybe she’d put herself out on the market again, she decided. Maybe she’d let herself feel like a woman more regularly now.
She deserved that, didn’t she?
“What does the boss say?” Keith asked.
Easter Sundae (Hot Holidays Series Book Two) Page 5
