by Anne, Betsy
I feel spasms in my gut trying to assemble for what I can sense will be a mind-blowing orgasm. He senses it, too, and travels away from my sweet spot. He spends as much time on my stomach as he did on my crotch, not showing favoritism but instead earnestly appreciating it all. He maintains the steady beat of a metronome with each kiss–the same measured time and intensity with each one. It lulls me into a meditative state, like before.
He reaches my breast, and applies light suction to the nipple. His stiff cock presses firmly against my upper thigh; he’s enjoying this as much as I am. He presses my nipple against the roof of his mouth, and hums loudly. I feel a tingle sprint a straight path to my clitoris. I’ve been aroused for so long, he could make me orgasm this way. He feels my shudder, and moves his mouth to my other breast and repeats the action. My hips buck to find some relief for my throbbing crotch. His cock is tantalizingly close and it grazes my lips as he moves his body. I instinctively grab his ass and press my clit up against his cock, which elicits a powerful orgasm that pulls strength from every other nerve in my body.
I gasp for air, as my body betrays us both and unleashes the chained-up lust pent up for weeks. Through the pleasure-induced fog in my brain, I hear him whisper close to my ear, “It’s OK, sweet Becca, I want you to feel it. Rub it on me,”
His sexy accent and warm breath in my ear send another wave of ecstasy through my body. I don’t feel guilty about it; I give into the sweet pleasure. I look into his face as he’s watching me experience pure bliss.
“You look exquisite, my love. So beautiful like that…”
His voice fades, and he covers my gasping mouth with his in a sensuous kiss. I try to control my reaction, but I find myself clawing at him like an animal. I want more. I need more. He breathes along with me, mimicking my rhythm, until it returns to normal.
He then reaches down and slips a finger inside me.
“So wet, and so beautiful. I’m ready baby, are you?”
What? What did he just say?
“Yes! Of course I’m ready!” I say loudly, showing off my enthusiasm.
He kisses me again, slowly this time, then rolls off the bed and grabs his phone. Such a strange turn of events.
He notices that I seem baffled by his abrupt departure, so he points to his phone as music begins to play. Ambiance. The man thinks of everything.
He returns to my side, and lies still as the music fills the room. It’s an unusual blend of New Age and slow rock. The slow thump of a bass drum adds a sensual mood to the otherwise relaxing tone.
He’s doing his deep breathing routine again, so I follow suit. Whatever he does, I’ll do. It’s worked pretty damned well so far. After a few minutes, he shifts his body so that he’s hovering over me like a table–a table with a long, hard, extra leg dangling down. He lowers himself into a plank, and kisses my neck. He presses back up and repeats the action, again and again. He’s getting his workout while teasing the devil out of me. It creates alternating warm-then-cold sensations, and heightens my awareness when he gets close. I’m holding back with everything I have to not grab him and shove him inside me.
His shoulder muscles are quivering and he rests his body fully down on top of mine. He’s heavy, and damp with perspiration. If men had a universal scent, this would be it. All of my senses react to the stimulus that is he, and it makes me feel alive.
He gives my body a break from his weight, by sitting up and bending at the knees so that he’s straddling me. There is something to be said for being extra flexible, especially in the bedroom. Thank you, yoga.
He runs his large hands up my torso and stops at my breasts. He caresses them firmly yet adoringly, as he stares into my eyes.
“My heart won’t slow down, Becca. All the breathing in the world can’t slow down what you do to me. I cherish you and want to worship your body. Are you ready?”
I think I made myself abundantly clear before, but I vigorously nod my head. My brain seems to have cut off communication to my mouth to focus on other things.
He moves his legs so that he’s sitting back on his feet, then he opens my legs and places them on either side of his hips. It elevates my lower back, so he places a pillow under it so I can relax. He takes his beautiful cock in his hand, and begins to stroke my lips with the head. I sharply inhale; the anticipation is maddening.
He takes his time introducing his body to mine. He sticks the head in, just the head, and he stills, eyes closed, breathing in rhythm, a look of unadulterated pleasure adorning his gorgeous face. His bright smile contrasts with the dark scruff of his two-day, unshaven face. He is the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, and right now he’s almost deadly. When he whispers in his accent, “You’re perfect, Becca. We’re perfect together, can you feel it?” as he gently begins to move, the feelings I have for him become overwhelming. I feel a tear roll down from the corner of my eye and hit the pillow.
He sees it, and it startles him.
“Are you OK, Becca? Did I do something?”
I grab his hands and interlace my fingers with his.
“It’s wonderful, Wick, you feel incredible like this. I feel like I never want to leave this spot, right here with you. I love you so much,” I admit, as more tears join the first.
Poor thing, we’ve waited so long, and now I’m crying through it. I turn my face to the pillow to wipe my eyes, so I don’t have to let go of his hands.
“I’m sorry, this is crazy!” I say, laughing, and instantly feel calmer.
He leans down, our hands still clasped, and he kisses me deeply, allowing his tongue to explore my mouth. I kiss him back with as much love as I can possibly inject. As he leans down, his cock pushes into me deeper, and I moan as our mouths seal together. It elicits a guttural moan from him, and I feel it vibrate all over my body.
He balances his body on his elbows, as we continue to make out. He opens his eyes, and looks right into my soul. He questions me using only his body, and I respond in kind. I give him the go-ahead using only the expression on my face.
He lowers his head next to mine on the pillow, as he enters me fully. I feel him bite the pillow as he releases a louder groan this time. His heart is racing and his breathing is erratic. He pauses once he fills me completely, and our bodies are as close as they can physically be. Shakily, he begins his breathing exercise, and regains control. He seems relieved, and after a moment, he begins to move his hips.
He pushes once, hard, against my pubis, then withdraws his cock lazily until he’s almost out of me completely. I squeeze my walls as tightly as I can to try and hold onto him. He grunts, and pushes through the warm tightness until were locked in place once again.
I reach around and grab his strong ass; I feel the muscles flex with each movement. He sucks in a breath as my hands make contact, and he yells, “Fuck, Becca! That feels so good.”
The rhythm picks up and we begin to move in unison. He grabs the heavy down comforter that surrounds us, and throws it to the floor. It frees our bodies to really start fucking. I see a small glimpse of the wild man he used to be. If this is him under control, I can’t imagine how much he must have indulged back then. He presses my hips against the mattress with his rough hands, which prevents me from moving. I lie back and take what he’s giving me, heart and soul.
He declares his love for me again and again, as we make passionate love for the first time. We’ve held so many unspoken emotions for so long now, and it feels incredible to shout them with wild abandon.
He flips us over so that I’m on top, as he takes another deep breath. I can feel the difference between his yoga breathing and regular breaths. He’s trying his hardest to make this last. He pulls me down against his chest, and presses me into him. We’re both slippery from sweat, and I kiss his salty chest. I suckle his nipple and feel his cock pulsate in response. We’re finally lovers, and I want to explore every inch of his body.
I decide to help him out, and slow things down a little; it’s too good to rush. I remove myself from his cock,
and I crawl down the bed, as he did earlier, to learn his body. He has the sexiest legs–firm and chiseled, with muscle in just the right places. I spread open his legs, and he stops me.
“Are you sure about this?”
I know why he’s reluctant, but I find our combined scent incredibly arousing. I nod my head to let him know I’m more than sure. I want to do this.
With my right hand I grasp his hard dick, and I lower my head to reach his balls. I take one into my mouth, as I stroke his slick shaft. He tries to watch, but gives up and throws his head back against the bed. He mumbles something in a heavy, brogue-laden stream of words I don’t understand. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard come out of a man’s mouth. I’ll have to ask him later what it all meant.
I make lazy work out of pleasuring his balls. I tug them as I consume his delicious cock with vigor. Not one inch is neglected as I get to know the new favorite body part of his. He’s struggling to maintain his discipline, which appears almost painful. I think he’s near the breaking point, so I stop to give him a chance to regain his balance.
“Thank you, my love. That was fucking incredible, but I don’t know how long I could have held myself. Your mouth is remarkable,” he says as he touches my cheek. I climb back on top of him, and we make out sweetly as we slow the pace again. “I’ve dreamt of this moment so many times, and it’s even better than I could have fantasized. I don’t want it to end.”
He doodles on my face with his fingers, as he gazes into my eyes.
“I feel the same way. However, if it doesn’t end at some point, I think I’ll pass out from the experience. Remember, this is my first time with all of this! My nerves are overwhelmed.”
“I know they are, love. This is a different experience for me, too. Passion and restraint are two edges of the same sharp sword. I’m juggling it the best I know how.” He looks so incredibly irresistible as he hangs his head with this admission.
I hold his head in my hands, so I can look him directly in the eye.
“We’ll figure all of this out together. I want you to teach me what you’ve learned.”
I mount his cock and squeeze him tightly. I lean down and place my hands on his chest so I can have a good angle. He moves his hips to meet my body, to push himself deeper inside me. This is it. No more slowing down, I want to feel this man.
I grind my pelvis against his body, feeling every swollen inch of him inside me. I squeeze, then raise up, squeeze, raise up, while he lies back and basks in the euphoria of it all. He clutches my hips and holds me steady as he pumps his cock into me. He’s really moving hard and I grasp the headboard to help steady my body as we fuck our brains out.
He’s worked up a feverish pace, and I’m trying hard to keep up with him.
“I’m close, love, are you going to come for me?” he asks as more sweat beads on his already damp brow.
My pussy constricts his cock as my orgasm builds.
“Yes, Wick, come with me,”
He lets out a loud grunt as his orgasm rises and he releases himself into my body. His fingers are digging into the flesh on my hips as he grinds my body against his for mutual gratification.
I feel my orgasm begin inside me, someplace I’ve never felt before, and as he continues to grind, it explodes and spreads to the rest of my body. I hear a disembodied version of my voice scream Wick’s name, but it sounds far away like an echo. He extends his orgasm by humming a mantra-like sound as his spasms slowly fade. I collapse onto him, and roll easily into the nook of his arm.
We both drift off into a deep, dreamless slumber.
I awaken, sweaty and delirious. I fell asleep under his arm, and covered by the comforter. I’m drenched. I’m also dehydrated: My mouth feels like I’ve been chewing cotton balls. He’s still asleep, his long lashes twitching; he must be dreaming. I’d give anything to be able to share that dream; I hope I’m in it.
I peel my body from his, as I desperately need to go to the bathroom. He doesn’t budge. My skin freezes on contact when the air slaps my damp skin. I let out a loud, involuntary squeal, but it doesn’t wake him. I run to the bathroom, sit on the block of ice that is imitating a toilet, and then I run back to the room and dig around the bed until I find the robe. It doesn’t help at all, so I grab his sweater and pants and put them on. I find the wool socks of his that I was wearing and throw those on, too. Nothing in my wardrobe is heavy enough to block the chill I feel in my bones.
I glance at the clock; it’s after noon. We’ve been in bed for hours. I haven’t eaten or drunk anything all morning. I can’t believe I don’t feel worse. I go to the kitchen to finish making the coffee he had started before our conversation and mind-blowing sex. My brain is humming with all the information he had spilled. He did a complete one-eighty on me. He went from telling me almost nothing, to telling me everything about his adult life. I’m so glad that he’s back speaking with his brother and parents. His eyes twinkled when he spoke of them; I can tell he has great affection for his family.
I wasn’t so happy to hear about all of his conquests, though. It sounded like he went through dozens of women, and never cared for any of them. He’s quite the contradiction to the person he described. It’s difficult for me to imagine him being so shallow and uncaring. I guess I should be grateful for all he’s gone through, or else I wouldn’t be here with him now.
I would like to meet his friend, Pam. It would probably be a mistake, but my curiosity won’t go away until I do. He owes her a great deal for helping him through his tough times, so I have to put a positive spin to my impression of her, but all I can think about is them together in such an intimate way. It is all new to me this morning, and my body is reeling from it. I’m achy, and my nervous system is exhausted from all the starts and stops. It was incredible, though, and so worth it. We connected; we truly made love. I felt as if he could see into my soul, and I into his.
He’s a reformed sex addict, and wants to have true love in his life. My heart flips when I think that it’s me he’s fallen for. He’s never been in love before, and he expressed it freely to me this morning. I’m one lucky girl.
I realize I’ve been staring out the window daydreaming when I feel his warm hands grip my shoulders. I almost jump out of my skin.
“Jesus! You scared me!” I say loudly as I spin around to face him.
“Nope, not Jesus, just me,” he says as he kisses my nose. “I was going to rub your shoulders, I thought you may be sore from this morning.”
“Well, in that case,” I respond, and turn back around to let him finish the job.
He kisses the back of my head, and then my neck as his strong hands perform their magic. If I had any stress in my muscles, it’s melting fast. His hands roam down my arms, and he wraps his arms around my waist. He buries his nose deep in my hair, and inhales deeply. His exhale is a low hum, and it travels straight to my groin. He must have hypnotized me; I feel as if my body has been conditioned to respond to him.
“I need nutrition, and coffee first. Lots and lots of coffee,” I say as I unwillingly squirm from his grasp to finish what I was doing. “We need to eat or they’ll find our emaciated but happy bodies up here in the spring.”
He backs up a little, and throws up his arms in a gesture of surrender.
I make a huge brunch. I use just about everything I can find in the fridge to make a buffet. Our banter has changed. He’s changed. He’s no longer the reluctant man I met, but relaxed, free-flowing with conversation. My heart breaks thinking about how hard it must have been to keep all of that inside, and the worry it must have caused him wondering how I would react to it. I’ll admit, my stomach did quite a few back-flips as he spilled his story, and I’m sure he knew it. I don’t have a great poker face, I’m an easy read.
We spend the rest of the day cuddled up in front of the huge fireplace, and we talk about everything. I learn about his childhood in Scotland, he wants to take me there, as well as his love of baseball, and most other sports. But he’s happiest
when speaking of Lachlan. I don’t think it’s the guilt talking; he genuinely adores his brother. I know this has to make everything that happened that much harder to handle. He avoids more discussion about that; instead, he focuses on what Lach is doing now.
I did most of the talking when we first met, so there’s not much more to tell him about me. He knows how happy I’ve been since moving close to Melanie and her family, especially having the kids around.
“You really adore the little lass, Lou, don’t you? I was convinced you were her mother the way you reacted when we met. I was really hoping you weren’t, but I’d never seen an aunt or babysitter love a child that much. She’s a lucky little girl,” he says, smiling sweetly, stroking my hair.
“I miss her. Can we video-chat them? I know it seems weird, but I really do miss Lou and the boys.”
“I’d love to! Get your phone.”
I dial Mel’s number on video-chat, and she answers quickly.
“Hi, Bec! How’s it going? Are you and Wick, enjoying yourselves?”
Oh, God, how embarrassing. She drawled out enjoying, and the intonation is a dead giveaway that she and I had discussed this before I left. Wick leans into the picture.
“Hello, Melanie. How are you?”
I see her face redden through the small screen.
“Oh, hi, Wick! I didn’t know you were there. Thanks, Bec, for the humiliation.”
“We called to talk to the kids, are they around?”
“Brian is out with the boys, but your crazy girl is here. Want to say ‘hi’?”
“Of course! Put her on!”
The screen image is jumbled as Melanie walks around following Lou, trying to get her to stay in one spot.
“It’s Aunt Becca, Lou! She and Wick want to say ‘hi’.”
She squeals, and grabs the phone from Mel. All we can see is her hair, she’s holding the phone against her head and saying, “Hi Bec-ca, I wuv you.” It breaks my heart, but in a good way.
