by Emily Bishop
He’s the real hero, my knight in shining armor, my husband, my lover.
At that last word, my heart skips a beat, my smile becoming wider. I wonder what he’ll ask me to wear.
***
“You want me to wear this?” I ask as I hold up the bikini that Randall has just tossed at me as I stand in front of him.
“Yup. It doesn’t have buttons but I hope you don’t mind.”
“Funny. Where did you even get this? Don’t tell me…”
“I bought it a while ago,” he explains. “Remember when you went to the restroom at that shopping outlet? While you were there, I went ahead and bought that.”
“You bought this in three minutes?”
“I just picked the first one I saw off the rack. I think I made a good choice, though.”
I look at the black and gold two-piece swimsuit, the top a halter held by just two strings and the bottom piece also with strings at the side. I would never wear something like this at a pool or the beach. I guess I should be grateful I just have to wear it here in the bedroom.
And I guess I should be grateful I shaved down there the day before yesterday, wanting to look even better for Randall.
“Okay. Give me two minutes.”
I disappear into the bathroom. After a short while, I come out, wearing my robe over the bikini.
Randall frowns. “I don’t think I told you to put on the robe.”
“Fine.”
I take a deep breath then pull on the sash of the robe and let it fall to my feet. At once, I feel Randall’s gaze on me, on my breasts, which are barely concealed by the top, on my belly and on my bottom piece as if he can see right through it.
Randall whistles. “I love your body,” he breathes.
He’s only looking at me, but I can feel the heat between us coursing through every vein in my body. I tingle and throb for him. My swollen breasts tingle, my nipples poking against the cool fabric of the swimsuit. I want him to touch me.
Does he have any idea what he’s doing to me?
I can clearly see what I’m doing to him. His cock is so stiff in those pants, I can see every ridge. God, he’s big. “Get over here,” Randall growls, pointing to the space directly in front of him. I’m almost scared—but I know it’s really excitement.
I step up to him, swallowing hard. I cross my arms over my chest. “You just want to look at me?” I whisper, disappointed as his eyes crawl over my body. I’m on fire for him. I need him to grip my tits. Sink his teeth into my neck. Something.
Randall runs his fingers gently through my hair and strokes down my cheek with one rough thumb. Then he grabs my chin and kisses me, immediately parting my lips as he pushes his tongue inside my mouth.
I murmur softly and my arms wrap around him. I can’t really wrap my arms all the way around him but I caress the strong, shifting muscles of his back and I open my mouth wider for him, moaning into our shared mouth, tongues dancing together vigorously.
Now this is a real kiss from a real man.
Randall pulls away from me—barely, but he does—and his gaze travels my full length. One arm wraps around my waist, pulling me so close that there isn’t even any oxygen between us anymore.
One thumb traces a path down my throat, between my collarbones, between my aching breasts, all the way down to my belly button, leaving a scorching trail that makes my heart beat faster. His thumb tenderly circles my belly button, the sensation almost ticklish, maddening.
Without warning, Randall dips his hand into my bikini bottom and gripped my sex like he was testing me out.
I gasp for air, a wave of tingling heat washing over me.
“You shaved,” he says, his palm rubbing against me. He grinned and beamed at me.
I nod and purse my lips. One of his fingers slides between my labia and fondles over my slick clit. My breath hitches in my mouth. “I thought you might like it. Do you?”
He touches his forehead to mine as he exhales sharply. “Oh, what am I going to do with you?”
“Fuck me?” I suggest sweetly.
He chuckles.“What?” he asks in a hoarse whisper. “You want me in here?”
He slips a finger inside and a soft cry escapes my lips. My knees shake and I cling to him, afraid I’ll fall.
“I didn’t hear you,” he says, his lips against my ear. His tongue darts out to lick the lobe.
“Yes,” I gasp. “God, yes.”
He slips another finger in, and my body turns to mush. His fingers always feel so thick inside me, but somehow, his prick doesn’t hurt at all. It’s huge, but I can do it. It pushes me right to the edge and then the orgasm tips me over.
“Just do it,” I demand and plead at the same time. “What are we waiting for?”
Randall gazes at me soulfully as his fingers flick and pump in my pussy. “Not yet,” he whispers, withdrawing the fingers.
In one move, Randall scoops me up and throws me over one shoulder.
“Show off,” I accuse him.
He just laughs as he throws me on top of the bed. I hear a rustle beneath the bed and I look to see him sliding something out.
“What is that?” I ask.
“A washable fitness mat,” he explains.
“Are we going to exercise now?” I ask curiously.
“In a bit,” he answers with a sly grin. “You know, in order to be fit, you don’t just need activity. You need a proper diet.”
He takes a bottle of chocolate syrup from the drawer of the bedside table.
“Chocolate syrup?” My eyes grow wide. “You keep chocolate syrup in the bedside table?”
“You said you’d wear whatever I want,” Randall reminded me, twisting from side to side in a sway and watching me with that impish grin. God, I loved sex with him. After Vince, I didn’t think sex even could be fun, but Randall and I have fun. “The bikini was just the first part.”
“I see.”
He’s going to pour chocolate on me? That’s what the mat is for?
As he opens the bottle, I lie back down. “Now I know where David gets the crazy ideas.”
Randall chuckles. “Turn around, baby. This is only the beginning.”
I obey, lying flat against the mat. I feel him pour the chocolate syrup on my back. It’s surprisingly silky and warm on my skin, like massage oil, and I wonder if he warmed the bottle in preparation for me. Even when he’s drizzling me in syrup, he’s a damn gentleman
Wait. Is he tracing my scars?
It seems like it. Afterward, he pulls the strings of my panties and places a heap of chocolate syrup on each of my butt cheeks then down the back of my legs.
Okay.
“You know chocolate isn’t good for you, right?” I tease “You’re better be ready to do some squat thrusts.”
“I am,” Randall promises. “But the chocolate isn’t what I’m going to be eating. You are.”
“I’m not good for your health either,” I tell him. His tongue lavishes and skates across my buttcheek and I giggle at the way it jars my whole body, making me buzz and burn anew.
“You are,” Randall purrs. “You’re too sweet.”
His hand scoops around my hip and slides between the sheets and my pussy, stroking my button with his middle finger as he licks the chocolate off my ass, then moving up my back. He traces my scars with his tongue; I know that he does. The wounded skin is extra sensitive; I’ve traced it with my own fingers a thousand times. I bury my face into the mat and whimper as his finger strums my pussy and his tongue tickles over my back. I can’t stop the shivers climbing up and down my spine, and my hips buck against the mattress, fucking Randall’s hands involuntarily. I want to come so badly. When will he stop playing?
Shit.
It feels so good, so good I want to stop, but then I want more of it. I’m going mad. He’s driving me crazy.
Randall keeps going, each long swipe of his tongue teasing me from the inside out. He descends to one of my butt cheeks and laps up one dripping streak of chocolat
e.
I laugh. I can’t help it. It tickles.
“You’re torturing me,” I tell him lightly. “This is illegal!”
I never thought that I would laugh and make jokes during sex… especially jokes about being tortured… but Vince is the furthest thing from my mind. The only man I know right now is Randall. He’s my world.
Randall bites at my plush little asscheek playfully, and I gasp in delight. His fingers still pumps at my button, his free hand holding my hip in check so that I can’t arch off the mattress.
“Delicious,” Randall says before biting on the other cheek.
Tingles unleash down both my legs and I moan. I hump at the mattress, at his hand, wishing that I could see him and touch him right now. My pussy shudders.
“You’re not the only one who’s hungry, you know,” I pant. “I’m fucking starving, Randall.”
He chuckles and I hear his zipper peeling down. My body goes still with patience. I’d do anything for him right now. “Let me see if I have anything for you,” Randall breathes against my ear, and I feel his thick cock sting between my legs with its body heat. It feels like a roll of bread fresh from the oven, he’s so hot for me—and then it’s gone.
He just takes it away and I yelped, lifting my hips to push myself off the mattress.
“Uh uh,” Randall teases, pressing my hips back down
“You promised… Now the other side.”
He lifts me up and turns me around. I feel the stickiness of the chocolate on my back but I can’t complain; I can’t even think about it right now. He pours some of the chocolate on my chest and I’m so turned on by him that I want it now. I want that silky, warm syrup tracking down my breasts and pooling in the hollow my throat and anywhere else he wants it to be, because I want whatever he wants.
Randall reaches up and unlaces my bikini top, taking a moment to gaze at my bare breasts, which seem to be staring back at him through their hard nipples. A slim river of warm chocolate syrup falls right in the valley between my breasts and I track my fingers through it as I smile at him, then bite down on my lower lip. “Get in here,” I plead softly. He’s going to break down for me.
I hear the way Randall exhales strongly—like he’s trying to shake something—and then he continues tracing his syrup around my belly button. “Not done yet,” he says, pulling down the damp triangle of fabric that I still have between my legs, lacing even my mons in his chocolate sauce.
“It’s a good thing you shaved,” he says, beaming up at me.
My spine straightens at the distinct sensation of the warm chocolate syrup drizzling lightly on my pussy. “What are you doing?” I shrill, wondering if this is even safe, what kind of infection I might get from having chocolate dripped on my vagina, but before I can grab a computer and check WebMD, Randall pries and presses my thighs as far apart as they will go, exposing my pussy to him like it’s on a plate.
He directly kisses my twat, tangling and twirling his tongue on me as if my pussy might be capable of kissing him back. It sets my sex on fire, and the flames spread down my legs, arcing up into my face. I’m kind of dizzy. Can you pass out from coming too hard?
Shit. It’s so good.
Suddenly, Randall stops, leaving my starved pussy to lick the chocolate around my belly button and dip his tongue into the delicate hole. Again, I laugh.
“You are so ticklish,” Randall remarks, looking at me.
“I guess I am,” I confess sheepishly.
“I love it.”
He dips his tongue there one more time, then moves lower again, settling between my thighs. My stomach tenses and I bite my lower lip in anticipation. My percolating sex just calmed down again, but the feel of his breath on my clit is enough to stoke my fire back to an inferno. I want to beg him or command him but I know that he likes to tease me. If I pretend like I don’t care either way, he might give me what I want: him.
I fall silent, even holding my breath and closing my eyes. He grips my hips and licks my shaven mound, then tracks down toward my clit and stops again.
I can’t help it. I let out a little roar from behind clenched teeth and squirm.
“Shh.” He licks over every part of my pussy except the clitoris. I’m so ready for him, my button practically vibrates with energy. . He dips lower, idling in front of my legs, and I feel the tip of his tongue tease at my entrance.
I feel slightly confused. “But Randall, there’s no chocolate… there!”
The last word comes out as a scream as his tongue enters me hard, animalistic. My hips rise, my eyes falling shut. I claw at the mat on my sides.
God.
His tongue, that wicked, skillful tongue, rubs against all the right spots, presses against all the right buttons. I had no idea his tongue was so long. His fingers rapidly massage over my clitoris at the same time and my thighs shake, my hips buck. Compared to his prick, this tongue is nothing, but I’m already so worked up from all the teasing, I know I’m going to break soon.
“Randall!”
I’m close. I can feel it.
His tongue moves faster, his fingers teasing the nub just above that crevice, all moving in concert to bring me to the edge...
“Randall!”
And push me over.
I come hard, swept away by the pleasure as it bursts, my body shaking and shattering. It feels like a physical wave of heat breaks over me, even though it comes from beneath my skin.
His tongue leaves me and, for a moment, I lie still, eyes closed, panting.
That was probably the most mind-blowing orgasm I’ve ever had.
“I thought singers had more lung capacity,” Randall says.
I open my eyes to look at him. “Well, this wasn’t singing, was it?”
He grins. “You performed well, but the show’s not yet over.”
Of course, it isn’t. He’s still hard, and I can see it.
I reach for his cock, stroking it idly as I simper up at Randall, teasing him. He inhales sharply.
I prop myself up on my elbows and pull his cock out, marveling at it. I didn’t get to see it clearly last time but now, I do.
And it’s the most magnificent thing I’ve ever seen.
It’s easily ten inches long and so thick, the tip a dark rosy color with a gossamer droplet of pre-cum oozing out of the slit. I gather the liquid with the tip of my tongue as I wrap my fingers around him.
“Fuck.” His fingers become entangled with my hair. “Don’t stop.”
“Why would I?” I look at him, grinning. “This is better than chocolate.”
He’s had his tasty treat. Now I’m enjoying mine.
I lick the tip slowly, lapping up the salty sweet liquid. I start licking the length of him, pressing not just the tip of my tongue but as much of it as possible against his sensitive skin.
His hips buck, gasps escaping his lips.
I continue licking and then take him fully inside my mouth. I can’t fit all of him but what I can fit, I suck and savor as my fist pulses up and down the rest of it I gaze up at him and let him look into my eyes, let him know that I love it. I’m in love with his cock, I think.
“Sabrina,” he rasps, suddenly pushing me off him and again, in one single move, he lifts me off the bed. He carries me to the bathroom, then sets me down before starting the shower.
“Time to clean you up,” he says.
But I know that’s not all he’s going to do.
Randall steps into the shower and pulls me in. It’s so foggy and steamy in here, it’s like another world, and I crowd up against his chest beneath the spray of water.
“Put your arms around my neck,” Randall orders.
As I obey, he grabs my thighs and hoists me up. Then he enters me, pinning me against the cold tiles. I cry out, wrapping my legs around him.
Oh, shit.
He kisses me again, his hands moving to my butt, cradling each cheek as he steps back so that I’m no longer against the wall. Then he begins jerking his hips, and my moans spill
out into his mouth. He’s so big, and this position is almost too much to bear.
I don’t know how he’s doing this. I’ve never been in this position before. But it’s incredible.
Damn, it’s incredible.
I can feel his cock deeply, reaching and rubbing against parts of me I never knew existed. As he moves against me, my nipples rub against his chest and the heat in my body swirls.
Are we still in the shower? I don’t know. I’m in a daze. My vision blurs and I close my eyes and focus on feeling every inch of him, squeezing him.
Randall breaks the kiss just as hard as it began, gives a particularly hard thrust. He roars and grips my ass as he bursts inside me. I come undone a second time, raking his back with my nails before falling limp against him. I relish the way his prick pulses and squeezes every drop of him into my body. My thighs squeeze him even tighter between my legs, as if he can never leave.
After a moment, he pulls his cock out and I set my feet down on the floor, still leaning against him as I feel his cum trickle down my thighs. If I don’t, I just know I’ll fall, too weak to stand after all the pleasure my body has experienced.
Somehow, we manage to clean each other up and dry each other off. Then Randall carries me again in his arms and brings me to the bed, setting me down gently.
I crawl beneath the blanket as he puts the sticky mat in the bathroom. When he returns, he joins me, wrapping those thick arms around me.
“Are you all right?” he asks.
I nod, no longer able to speak.
I’m just exhausted, too exhausted, even though I wasn’t the one who did the lifting. Within moments, I slide into the oblivion of sleep, a contented smile on my face.
Afterglow
Randall
What is Sabrina dreaming of?
That question runs through my mind as I stare at her sleeping face, her eyelids fluttering and her lips curved into a smile.
Something good, I hope. God knows she deserves every good thing, whether in dreams or in reality.
I smile too. I wouldn’t mind waking up to this every day.
