by Kara Liane
I gently push her down at the shoulders so she’s forced to lie back on the surface. With my jacket stretched out, it’s enough to accommodate her body. She looks so hot lying there waiting for me to take control. My erection is so painful that it’s hard to move. Adjusting myself won’t help either because the crotch area is too tight. I’m probably suffocating my poor dick; my big buddy needs rescuing—maybe some mouth-to-mouth resuscitation will do the trick! No…not yet. Her first…always her first.
“We’re not going to make love. You’re not ready. Maybe later tonight when we’re back at the hotel and in a bed. But right now, I will give you the best fucking orgasm of your life! I need to taste you and pleasure you. You need to feel what it’ll be like between us. And I need you to understand the depths of my feelings and the lengths to which I’ll go to make you mine in every way possible. I’ll eat at your pussy until they send a search party for us, sweetness,” I threaten.
There’s no room for joking. There’s no room for lightening the mood this time. I’m deadly serious. I meant every word. I need this woman more than I need to eat, sleep, or breathe. I said a while back that I’d hunt her down with my scope, and that’s what I’m going to do. I have her in my sights. Her defenses are down. She’s not a wounded animal, though. She’s merely becoming tamed.
Her respirations have increased, and I watch as she inhales and exhales harshly. Her tits are rising and falling with each expansion and collapse of her chest. I’ll have to go to town on those supple mounds later because they’re mesmerizing. I grab one of the leather rolling chairs that I had wheeled out of the way when I laid her on the table. I sit in the chair right in between her legs and place my hands on her knees. She’s startled by my touch, but it’s a natural response because of her nerves.
I effectively pull her body closer to me so my face is properly positioned close enough to her beautiful cunt when I’m ready to chow down. I remove each one of her shoes and place them under my chair. She’s like a hawk, watching every move. I love that she has no idea what my moves are. I thrive on keeping her on her toes. And speaking of toes, I grab her naked feet and place each one on the arms of the chair. I’m sure she feels exposed and uncomfortable. I bet, to her, this probably looks more like a gyno exam than a dabble in cunnilingus—believe me, I’m not sheltered and know what goes on at those kinds of appointments. Anyway, I can assure you the view before me is sexy as fuck.
I reach up under her dress and remove her panties. She shivers as I brush against tender, wet, warm flesh in my goal to remove the material. I lift each foot to slide them off and then place her satiny purple panties in my pants pocket—hey, I don’t want them to get lost, so sue me…I know a good lawyer!
Now it’s time to play and feast. I inch her dress up her thighs and finally stop at her torso where the material is bunched up. She’s completely naked from the waist down. I groan in utter euphoria at what my eyes are taking in.
However, her hands that had been resting flat against the table at her sides move to cover herself—or I’m assuming to pull down her dress. I stand up and halt her actions by grabbing her wrists and locking her hands into one of mine, trapping her. It’s necessary so she comprehends the situation and what’s about to go down. And how it’s going to go down my way!
“Don’t hide from me. I want to see you…all of you. I’m sure in a lot of ways this is all new to you. You’re rediscovering a part of yourself that was lost years ago. But I want you to go on this journey with me. I want to be the man who makes you smile, makes you laugh, makes you cry tears of joy. And hopefully some tears of ecstasy in there,” I convey, laying my metaphorical cards on the table.
We’re both baring parts of ourselves to one another tonight. I’m ready. I’m ready for it all. I want to take this next step, and I welcome everything that comes with it.
I place soft kisses to her forehead and then to her cheeks. I give a peck to the tip of her nose and then suck at her juicy, pink-stained lips. She’s starting to relax again, but I still keep my grip firm on her wrists. Now that she’s a little more pliable, I can continue to work my way down.
I plant kisses on her belly. She should never be embarrassed about her body. Maybe I’m not like most guys, but I find an older woman’s body sexy. I can appreciate it. Each curve and mark holds a story. The silvery stretch marks, which are barely visible because of how toned she is, make me admire her strength and beauty all the more. She’s had three kids, yet you wouldn’t know it. She must’ve delivered naturally each time because there are no scars to be seen suggesting a previous C-section. If only she knew the ages of the women I’ve been with, then she wouldn’t feel so self-conscious—I’ll tell her about it one day.
“You’re so beautiful. Your skin’s so soft. Your body’s fucking amazing. God, you drive me crazy,” I murmur against her skin.
The dirty blonde hair covering her pubic bone is so damn hot—I should say it’s more of a dark blonde shade. I hate saying dirty blonde as it implies a negative connotation, unless we’re talking about dirty in the sexy, wicked sense. Nevertheless, it’s neatly trimmed. I don’t like bare pussies—for fuck’s sake, they’re meant to have hair! Her beautiful femininity pleases me immensely.
I lower my head to her intoxicating cunt and flick my tongue at her clit. Oh yeah, I go right for the gold from the start. She moans, and I can already smell and see some of her juices coat her pussy lips. I’m sure it doesn’t take much to get her going because not only is this our first time doing anything sexual together, but also her lack of experience over the years will work to my advantage.
I have her full attention, and she’s completely aroused. I let go of her wrists that are still pinned above her head. She leaves her arms there anyway, even after I release them. She’s writhing, and her body is arching off the table—I’ve hardly done anything. She’s so responsive and receptive to my touch. It’s even more of a turn on for me that I can bring her to such heights so quickly.
I lick my way around her opening and tunnel deeply into her channel with my tongue in the next instant. I palm her left breast with my one hand and alternate sides by pinching her nipples. She keeps creaming my mouth with the most decadent of honeyed flavors. I eat at her like I’ve never had pussy before. Nothing could be sweeter. Nothing could satisfy me more. Nothing will ever do again!
After lavishing exceptional care to her most intimate parts with my mouth, I then finger-fuck her for a good while. First, I start with one finger, and her hands are no longer above her head. Now they’re in my hair, gripping me fiercely as she’s deep into this passionate state—I’m not complaining, though. Even if she draws blood, it will be well worth it. I insert the next finger, then rub the anterior wall of her pussy until she becomes even more vocal. Bingo! I have located her G-spot. I told you I’m an expert on all things pussy-related—maybe I missed my calling as an OBGYN or some shit with knowing all these terms.
I don’t want to push her too much with four fingers, so I settle for three because she should be good and stretched. Later tonight when I tunnel into her taut body, I’ll revel in the fact that I can stretch her to her fullest with my massive cock. I want her pussy to avoid as much pain as possible, but I’m also a selfish prick and want it nice and tight for me.
I couldn’t help myself earlier today and packed condoms—just in case—when I prepared my overnight bag for this shindig. I hope we’ll get to use the whole damn box at some point, but maybe I shouldn’t put the cart before the horse—or the cock before the condom in this instance.
Fuck, thank God we’re alone on this floor because it sounds like I’m murdering her with the flow of screams and moans she’s letting loose. I can’t make out much of what she’s saying, but at some points I hear my name escape from her mouth. That makes me work her even harder, faster, and with more gusto than ever. I’m sucking at her clit and giving it gentle bites. My technique involves the expert combination of suction and laving.
This is by far my favorite
part of discovering what she likes…and what she loves. So, I employ my triple threat. I pinch her nipple, softly nibble at her clit, and rub at her G-spot all at the same time. And voila! She loses it for me in the most divine fashion. She screams and creams. Her heavenly nectar flows into my hand. And I pre-cum in my pants but don’t give a fuck because I’ll clean myself up later.
I let her come down from the mountain as I continue stroking her flesh. She’s sensitive, but I feel it’s necessary to stroke her further so it’s not such an abrupt ceasing of all touching and tasting. God, I felt her cries of passion deep in my bones, and the way she makes me feel is what will propel me forward in this life. I’ll continue to reaffirm she’s my reason to eat, sleep, breathe, repeat.
In my line of work, I advise clients of the risks when entering into an agreement, whether verbal or contractual. An indemnity clause is not often one I have to apply to domestic law, or even in a personal sense. Yet, I can’t help but wonder what type of clause I should’ve put in place for my brain and heart. Because if Liz ever decides I’m not what she wants…it will break me—I’ll respect her decision. Okay, I’m partly lying because I won’t be okay with it. I guess I should’ve drafted an affidavit for myself while I was at it.
This relationship we’re forging—in an unspoken sense for the moment—is all I can focus on. Now that I have her, I can’t lose her. I look down at her beautiful face, and her eyes are closed, no doubt still hovering in a blissful cloud.
I love you….
It’s right there on my tongue, but I don’t say it. I’m a coward. Why do I feel like there’s this constant push and pull of sorts between us?
And I can’t shake the feeling that she’s hiding something from me, and that’s why she can’t completely let go. Call it intuition; call it me being Mr. Sensitive—call it whatever, but some things you just know.
I do love her, but the question is, does she—or will she—love me back?
Chapter 16: The Waiting Game
Liezel
We found restrooms near the conference room, so I’m putting myself back together. Of course, I have that telltale look where my hair is mussed, and I need to smooth out my dress and whatnot. My tissues are sensitive, and it still tingles from all the attention he bestowed upon me. It took forever for me to get up off the table. My legs were jelly. Even now as I stand at the sink continuing to freshen up, I still feel weak. The man is a dream. He’s a god. He’s a legend.
I should have told him I love you. I was going to say it, but then I thought better of it because I didn’t want him to think it was because of how grateful I was for his oral treatment. It would have been on the heels of an orgasm, and that doesn’t make for a first-time-I-love-you moment.
When I say it, I want it to be right and I want it to be an intimate moment.
I don’t drink, for obvious reasons thanks to our family history, but I need something tonight. Maybe a glass of champagne will do. However, it does tend to make me horny on the rare occasions that I’ve imbibed.
I hope we haven’t been gone too long and our absence wasn’t noticeable. All that was really left to do wedding-wise was to cut the cake and say goodbye to the couple as they’re whisked away to their hotel room for the night before their trip.
I run my fingers across my lips and can still feel his kisses. I wanted so badly to reciprocate with my mouth on him, and I hope I get the chance later. The poor guy was sporting one of the biggest hard-ons I’ve ever seen. I should have given him a hand job or something to help take the edge off. I feel like a jerk for not giving him relief. I’m not a selfish person. I want to make it up to him.
I take one last look in the mirror and smooth back my hair. I don’t have my clutch on me, so there’s no way to reapply my lipstick. What I have to work with will have to do. Thank God Caleb gave my panties back to me. Not that I thought he’d keep them as a souvenir or trophy of some sort, but still. It’s nice to have coverage and protection.
I exit the restroom, and Caleb is patiently waiting for me, leaning against the wall and looking so yummy. How jealous must everyone around him be of his physique, personality, and brains? I’m rethinking the whole rejoining-the-party thing downstairs, and instead opting for going round two on the table. On still semi-shaky legs, I walk in his direction.
He groans sexily. I wish I could saunter up to him, but it’s not possible in my condition. I can’t manage a sinful sway of my hips for anything. I probably look like a newborn baby deer trying to walk for the first time.
“Mmm, you know, you’re good for my ego, sweetness,” he waggles his eyebrows at me.
And, of course, I’m coy and have to ask, “Hmm, and why’s that?”
“Because the way you’re walking tells me I did my job thoroughly,” he conveys with a lot of yearning as he stares into my eyes.
“Oh,” I reply in a breathy way.
He offers me a chaste kiss with his soft lips, and we break apart all too quickly.
“Come on, we better get back down there,” he suggests.
Yes, down there…I sigh dreamily in my mind. I know he’s actually referring to going back downstairs.
I bite my lip and respond haughtily, “I thought you were waiting until they issue a search party?”
He narrows his brown eyes and smirks at me. Clearly, I’m taunting him and loving every minute of it.
He playfully slaps my ass and whispers in my ear, “That one’s gonna cost you…later.”
I shiver at his words, and after a few more minutes and a few more kisses, we finally rejoin the reception. The party is still in full swing when we enter. No one really seemed to miss us, thankfully. I grab a flute of champagne from a nearby server, as does Caleb.
We end up dancing and hanging out with the kids and the rest of our wedding party until Ev and Brent cut the cake. After that, the newlyweds take their leave, and Fred and Milly recommend getting all the youngsters down for the night. They take all the kids back to the hotel along with Granny Lil.
I was already feeling a little tipsy from the one glass, so I knew I had reached my limit. Caleb told me he was ready to go, and my stomach bottomed out. Ding, ding, ding…I’m being ridiculous, sound the alarms! After the otherworldly orgasm of a lifetime, you’d think it would have calmed me and prepared me for the after-party in my hotel room.
The limo drivers are kindly shuttling guests from the reception to the hotel, and we behave ourselves on the short ride. I’m sure all the couples in our group are going to have a wild time tonight, and I won’t be the exception. My heart hasn’t stopped jackhammering. Caleb is one of those guys who leaves a mark on you. He’s like a fingerprint leaving behind trace evidence showing he’s been there; you can’t always see it, but it’s definitely there—that latent print is on my heart. Okay, maybe I’ve been watching a little too many CSI reruns lately.
As we pull into the entranceway to the hotel, Caleb turns to me and asks, “Your room or mine, sweetness?”
All I can do is gulp.
***
Caleb
My girl is nervous, but those butterflies will soon turn to pleasurable flutters. I consider myself like a cupid of sorts. Instead of delivering hearts by way of arrow, I deliver orgasms from my rod. I’ll have her flat on her back and panting in no time, and she’ll forget she was ever this frazzled.
I’ll make the decision easy for her. “We’ll go to my room.”
I tug at her hand and help her out of the car. I lead her through the lobby and head up to our floor. My room is across the hall from hers. I hold the keycard up to the reader, and we enter. I put the “do not disturb” sign on the handle and shut us in. As I’m still facing the door, I hear her intake of breath as the locks click. Oh yes, I have you trapped well and good now.
The suite has a decent-size living room, a guest room to the right and a master bed and bath to the left. I think my room is bigger than Liz’s since she has an adjoining one, so I’m glad we’re in mine so we have lots of space fo
r…activities. I walk up behind her and kiss her shoulder.
In a shaky voice she asks, “Can I have a minute alone to myself?”
I give a smooch to her shoulder again, rubbing up and down her arms a few times to reassure her. “Of course. Take all the time you need. I’ll find some way to occupy myself.”
I chuckle softly at my innuendo, but I will not be doing that by myself since I finally have her. I think she’s still too nervous to respond verbally. She nods but doesn’t look my way as she turns to head into the master bedroom, and I hear her shut the door to the ensuite bathroom. Unperturbed, I head to the living room area and remove my suit coat. I look around, admiring the digs, and think it’s ideal for a special night such as this. I didn’t get to appreciate its beauty earlier today upon check-in because there was so much to do before the wedding.
I undo my silver monogrammed cufflinks—groomsmen’s gifts from Brent—and place them on the coffee table. I take out my wallet and cell from my pants pocket, then divest of my tie, belt, shoes, and socks. Gone are the days of wearing cummerbunds, thank fuck for that! Brent didn’t want vests or pocket squares, so the simple but elegant suits did nicely today.
I sit back and make myself comfortable with my hands behind my head, fingers laced together, just chillaxing. I shut my eyes and breathe deeply. I’m anxious and beyond ready to make love to her. I’m summoning the strength for patience. She needs time to sort out her feelings; this will be another big moment for her.
At least a few minutes go by before I hear my phone buzz on the table. I open my eyes and realize I should have put it to silent instead of vibrate. I switch the mode so it doesn’t disturb us later. I glance at the screen to make sure it’s not some emergency.
