Straightening my arms, I inhaled a deep breath and took my shot.
“Watch the ball,” I crooned, drawing his attention to the game and to my hands as I expertly handled the stick. In a smooth motion, I drew back the cue, barely controlling my shudder as it brushed against my breast and slid through my poised fingers. Using precise strength, I tightened up on the thick handle, exhaled, and sharply struck the little white cue ball, keeping it in my control.
Craig sucked in his breath as he watched the cue ball strike and the eight ball soar up into the air. It deftly leapt over the blocking balls and neatly dropped into the pocket that I had called.
“Nothing but net,” I purred as I looked over my shoulder at him.
“Think you’re slick, little girl?” he asked as he pulled me up to a standing position, directing me upright with the hand that still cupped my breast.
“I am a master of the stick,” I smirked, still relishing the feel of his fingers in me as they slid in and hit nerve endings I never knew I had.
“You are, are you?” he asked. He slipped his fingers out of me.
I moaned a little in disappointment, but sucked in a deep breath as he pulled me flush against his front. I could feel the heat of his arousal burning my bare backside, even between the barriers of cloth that we both still wore.
“Can you master this stick, little girl?” He grasped my shoulders and turned me to face him.
I had never seen him look so wild. His black eyes flashed at me, his face was drawn tight and flushed with his rising ardor.
“Try me,” I whispered as I raised my hands and ripped the tie from his hair, letting the black waterfall flow freely about his shoulders. “Beautiful.”
He looked so wild and savage standing here, his face a mask of tension, his bared chest moving rhythmically, slowly, in and out.
I fought hard to hide my reaction, but I was sure any minute now my reactions would start running down my leg.
I had never been this aroused before. His attitude, his body, his very presence had a startling effect on my libido. I knew my nipples were hard and straining against my shirt, drawing his hot gaze. My breath streamed through my parted lips and I could feel my eyes haze over in passion.
“Thanks for the invitation, little one, but permission is not required.”
That said, he grasped my waist between his hands and lifted me to the edge of the table.
My skirt framed my thighs as he parted them and stepped in between.
“You like sticks, do you?” He grabbed the cue from where it rested on the table behind me.
Holy shit. What was he going to do with that? My mind raced through the possible uses of a cue stick in foreplay, and then my brain went numb.
Slipping the stick between us, he slowly rolled it against my bare thigh. It was smooth and hard, but now it was growing warm from my body heat.
“Trust me?” he asked as he switched legs and caressed my other thigh with that piece of wood.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” I gasped as he drew the hardness close to my softness.
“Really?” He rested the stick against my leg and reached for my shell.
With steady hands, he slowly drew the shirt over my head. I trembled as its silken touch caressed my nipples and the sensitive skin of my neck. As it fluttered somewhere, lost from my view, I looked up at him and found him gazing intensely at my breasts.
“You are the color of fresh mountain berries,” he said as he cupped each breast in a hard palm.
I closed my eyes and let my head fall back. His thumbs circled and pressed against me.
“Like that?” he asked, his voice deep and even.
“Yes,” I hissed, bringing my hands up to grip his shoulders. The feel of his hot skin surprised me, but then, the man was good at generating heat.
He smiled at me, showing his strong white teeth before he lowered his head and took one nipple into his mouth.
I crooned and groaned and tried to pull him closer as his heat enveloped my flesh. With his wet tongue, he pressed my nipple to the roof of his mouth while sucking gently. He growled his appreciation of my taste and his hands dropped around my waist to pull me closer to him.
My hands fisted in his hair, sifting the long strands through my fingers as I forced his head closer still, to make him give me this pleasure.
I nearly wept in satisfaction as his other hand reached up and began to cup and tease my other breast. His heat was incredible, and like a moth to the flame, I was drawn to want more.
Gripping his face in my hands, I pulled his mouth away from the sensitive mound my breast had become and forced his lips to mine.
His lips were soft and wet and swollen. I lapped at him with my tongue, taking in just a little of the taste of his musky flavor. I raised my head and smiled at his parted lips, how they glistened with the wet trail that I placed there, how they fought to bring air into his starved lungs. Wanting more, I coaxed his tongue out of hiding, nibbling at it, sucking it deep into my own mouth, pretending that it was the head of his cock and savoring its texture.
“You are hot,” I whispered as my lips placed small teasing kisses upon his.
“And getting hotter,” he said. He ground his mouth against mine. Running his fingers through my hair, he grasped a handful at my nape and pulled my head backwards. He took long slow licks at my neck and shoulders, making a damp trail down to my breasts and taking my other deprived nipple into his mouth.
“That feels…wonderful,” I gasped. I again gripped his shoulders for balance. I was in a precarious position on the table ledge, holding him for balance and trying not to let my quivering bottom ride me off the edge.
But then his hands released me and I felt him reach for that stick.
With a wicked grin, he centered it on the floor in that small space between us and pressed the wood between my breasts. I squirmed at the warmth it picked up while sandwiched between our bodies.
What was he doing? I looked up at him, a question in my eyes.
“Ever hear of a wooden pony?”
That was all he said before that stick was pressed gently, yet firmly, against my weeping woman’s center.
“Oh God,” I cried as he dropped to his knees before me and lapped at my flesh forced outward by the pressure of the stick.
My knees began to tremble and the solid steady pressure of the smooth wood teased me more than anything ever done to me before.
“Craig?” I whimpered. I sucked in a deep breath as he flicked his hair over my exposed center.
“I want to smell like you,” he growled. “I want to have the memory of you on my body. I want us both to be covered in sex, little girl. Can you handle that?”
“Yes,” I nearly screamed. His words, coupled with what he was doing with the cue stick, made it impossible to say no.
“Good,” he murmured as he twirled his hair around me, making me grope at the table for balance as my legs clapped around his hard body.
Then he began to twirl that stick.
“Oh shit.” I screamed as the wood, wet with my juices, slithered on my clitoris, massaging it and my nether lips. Suddenly his tongue was there, licking and stabbing at me, lapping at my flowing dew, tasting all that I was. Electric waves of delicious pressure built up in me. His free hand climbed up my chest to rub the silky texture of his hair against my nipples. I felt myself forced towards the felt. My back began to inch closer to the table. I felt my arms giving way and him move even closer as my new position granted him more access.
“Divine,” he murmured. He gently took my nether lips between his teeth and nibbled softly. “You taste so damn good.”
“More,” I moaned. I dropped completely backwards on the fuzzy green felt and grabbed for his head. Using handfuls of his hair, I pulled him closer to the center of my heat. I felt myself sliding away. As I opened my eyes, I saw the pool table light glow brighter and brighter and felt a scream building inside as my legs began to tremble with the force of the bolt
s of desire pulsing through them. Then I reached a place where everything was silent, where I no longer felt the table felt against my skin or my skirt resting against the skin of my stomach. All I felt was his tongue, and his lips, and that now rapidly rotating wood. The ball of light grew until I was in its center, my flesh searing hot and burning as fire licked at my loins.
Finally, all sensations merged into pleasure as I slipped over the edge. Tremors wracked my body as I felt myself trembling uncontrollably. Ripples spread across my body in ever widening circles, sucking me into a vortex of body-rending emotions, replete but by no means satisfied.
I took no time to catch my breath. Sitting up, I grabbed the stick and tossed it across the room. With a loud cry, I latched onto his hair and pulled him up my body.
We both moaned at the feel of his naked chest rubbing against my oversensitive skin, but I wanted more of him. His hair drooped down like a curtain, shielding us from the world as I took his lips in a kiss of thanksgiving.
He tasted like me. He tasted like me and sex and that undeniably male flavor with which all men seem to be born. He smelled of musk and unfulfilled desire.
He rested on his elbows above me and his deep dark eyes, dilated with arousal, bored into mine.
“We’re not done,” he whispered. I felt his hard cock straining against his jeans, begging for my attention.
“Of course not,” I breathed, my own voice low and needy.
In a move that surprised him, I quickly flipped him over on the table. With one arm, I swiped the remaining balls out of my way and rose to my knees above him.
“My turn.”
With the hunger of a starving mountain lion, I dove for the fastenings of his jeans, ripping his button free and, trembling with anticipation, eased his zipper down carefully so I wouldn’t risk catching him in the metal teeth and ending all of my fun.
He wore no underwear.
Thrilled by his little surprise, I looked up and caught him leering at me. With his hands behind his head and his hair spread out like a blanket beneath him, he looked to be calm and cool, but what I felt beneath my hands told a different story.
“Up,” I ordered, and without a word, he lifted his hips, making it easy for me to ease his jeans down past his hips, baring his bottom to the velvety kiss of the felt and his masculine cock to my hungry gaze.
He was large–large and perfectly formed. His butter-soft skin was a deep bronze color while his large heart-shaped head was the deepest of reds. As I watched, a small clear drop beaded on its tip, proving to me how very close he was to release.
“I won the game,” I said to him as I rode high and proud across his thighs.
“So you did,” he replied, looking at my bare breasts as they bobbed above him.
“Therefore I get to claim my prize now,” I cheerfully informed him, before I eased off of the table.
“What prize do you claim?” he asked, a questioning look in his eyes.
“Your full cooperation in whatever I want to do to you,” I replied before I bent low and took him into my mouth.
He tasted a little bit salty and a lot like Craig, wild and untamable. I felt him tense beneath me as my hands gripped his waist to hold him still.
“I won’t hurt you,” I crooned as I popped him out of my mouth and licked him like a lollipop. “Don’t be afraid.”
“I can take anything you dish out, little girl,” he snorted, then sucked in a deep breath as I forced him to the back of my throat and raised one hand to grip him at his base.
I felt his big body begin to tremble and sweat as I forced extreme pleasure on him. I made a circle of my thumb and forefinger, creating a tight ring around the base of his cock, and began to work him with my hand.
Now he was swearing softly, his eyes closed in ecstasy just short of pain. I could see he wanted to fight the overwhelming need to let go. But I had more planned for him.
As his hips began to lift, offering himself more deeply for my heated caresses, I slipped my other hand from around his waist and cupped his ass.
He jumped at this, but let out a deep groan as I began to squeeze his firm flesh. Craig White Fox had one hell of an ass and I enjoyed each wiggle of his rounded bottom as I caressed him at will.
He wasn’t the only one jumping. I felt my body begin to melt with need. What I was doing was so erotic to me, so naughty and playful, my heart began to race, and I reveled in it.
My nipples, painfully hard, brushed against firm muscles of his thighs. Each little movement caressed my swollen skin, sending a message of hunger to my lush femininity. I moaned and rubbed my thighs together, trying to appease this ache just a little while I drove him mad.
When he began to buck beneath my attentions, and when his hands reached above his head to grip the ledge behind him, I ran one finger down the center seam of his buttocks. As I pressed against the tight puckered ring, an area rich in nerve endings, he closed his eyes, moaned in unholy pleasure, and began cursing like a sailor.
Chuckling low in my throat, I let my fingers at the base of his cock slide around and press another place just beneath his heavy testicles, making him hiss between his clenched teeth as he reached for me.
In an instant, I found myself again pressed against the edge of the table as he deftly switched our positions. He left me for a moment to pull protection out the pocket of his jeans, which were now around his ankles, and he quickly sheathed himself. My skirt was then quickly balled up around my waist and used as a brace. I was lifted high in the air. I had no time to catch my breath or to wonder what he was planning, for in the next second, I was slammed down on his full erect length.
“My God,” I screamed as I felt his thick hot cock penetrate the tight walls of my inner sanctum. For a moment, I felt I would be torn asunder, but then I felt myself open to his demands. Smooth as silk, he glided deeply into me, touching an inner spot that gave me chills and filled me with fire.
“Oh love,” he sighed as he slid deeper into my hot, tight warmth. He paused for a second as if to gather his control, and buried his face in my neck, inhaling my female scent.
I reached up and grabbed a fistful of his hair as he quickly turned to lean against the table. I wrapped my legs around his waist and felt him side in even deeper, stretching and touching a part of me that had felt empty before. He groaned deep in his throat and I felt his muscles gather themselves for his assault on my control and reason.
I gave a sudden cry as his hands tightened around my skirt and he urged me to move. Leaning forward, taking his mouth in a devastating meeting of tongues, teeth and lips, I began to move.
He felt like a solid pillar melting into me. His heat was incredible and I could feel each throbbing inch of him as we began to gyrate in slow easy rhythm. I released his hair and raked my nails down his back, savoring his shivers and moans.
His hands encircled my waist, holding me steady as he changed the angle of his thrusts. With each lunging move, I felt his cock brush against my hard and swollen clitoris. I cried out at the new sensation. He pounded into me, helping me move faster to the pace he now set. I felt my wetness envelop him, felt my muscles strain to keep him in me. With the skill of a master, he pulled out to the point of leaving me before again swiftly filling the void.
Sparks shot through my veins and the world began to swirl. I felt fire blossom in my clitoris and thunder boom within my walls. My breath sounded rough in the room, my body sweating as I fought to take him deeper inside of me. I clawed and scratched for this pleasure, for him to take me to heights I had never ascended. I sobbed out my hunger as I pressed by breasts to his heaving chest. He was making little grunts under his breath as if he were straining for control within my demanding grasp. I wanted more, needed more, and demanded more.
Suddenly I felt a burning deep within me as I again reached that high plateau of climax, but it was more intense this time, more passionate. Little whimpers and loud cries were now exploding from my throat. I slammed myself down on him, eager to reach t
he pinnacle of this sexual act. I was lost to all reason. All I wanted was the golden climax that was so tantalizingly close.
Craig, seeming to sense me reaching the edge, kept filling me and pushing me, rotating my hips around him until the pressure built up so high, I had no choice but to give in. I exploded in a shower of stars and rockets as a rough cry that could have been his name rolled out of me.
My body began to grip at him, straining to hold his massive strength, caressing him like a thousand little hands. My toes pointed and my nails dug grooves into his back. As I tossed my head back in ecstasy, he wrapped his arms around me and closed his eyes. My release triggered his explosion.
In a series of short hard thrusts, he appeared to calmly face his own passions. His nostrils flared and his skin shone as a powerful release tore through his body.
“Yes,” he hissed. He threw back his head, slammed me hard down onto him once, twice, and a third time. His eyes rolled back in his head and his lips parted to show his clenched teeth.
“Yes,” he cried a bit louder, and I felt him swell impossibly large within me—he exploded. Each wrenching throb wrung a curse from his lips. His hands clamped my waist tighter as if I was his anchor, and he gave a trembling sigh as he came down from his climatic high.
With a groan, he lay back on the table, limbs trembling, with me wrapped tightly around him. His body was a large warm cushion to rest upon and neither one of us noticed that we were both still half dressed.
He began to softly rub my back. I brushed tendrils of hair from his damp face.
“I told you I would win,” I breathed into his neck as I settled myself more comfortably on top of him.
“Yes, you did, little girl,” he chuckled. He let his head drop back to the table. “I think I may have been hustled.”
“Who, me?” I asked, trying to gather up the energy to look down at him.
“Wanna try for it again?” he asked, a sudden heat filling his eyes. I felt him begin to grow harder within me. Amazed, I looked down at him and caught his wicked grin.
“Well?” he prodded. “Are you game?”
Hidden Passions, Vol 2 Page 6
