by Muffy Wilson
He picked her legs up, spread them, and pushed them back. Rubbing his cock head against her engorged clit, he slipped his cock head in then out, but only the first few inches of it. She begged him to take her, but he continued to tease her insistently. Suddenly he withdrew.
Sailie gasped, looked down and she watched him stroke his hard cock. He drove forward hard with his hips and cleaved her wet silky mound, burying his cock deep. Her nails dug into his back as he slammed into her…pulling all the way out, he drove his hard shaft into her again and again and again. Sailie was blind with heated fervor.
She felt his heartbeat pound in the head of his cock buried deep within her. She choked, gasped and lost her breath as he withdrew and stared almost wildly into her hazel eyes. Sailie was frozen in his look. He broke a small, wicked smile then went to a dark glare. He paused…then pulled her ass cheeks upward, threw her legs over his shoulders and buried his cock so deep within her he became part of her, one with her soul. He threw his head back, screamed as he pushed into her, lost himself in the folds of her spirit; gripped between her legs, her nails buried in his shoulders, his lips and teeth sunk into her shoulder.
“I cannot bear the pain, the ecstasy!” And he exploded inside her.
“Love me! Love me! LOVE Me!…oh, God, please! FUCK me!”
He regained control, pulled back, and he watched as her sensual lips drew taut. His pace became hard and fast. Her smooth calves gliding across his shoulders drove him deeper into her. She could not get enough of him as he made her wild, stoking the fire that raged in her loins. Each thrust sent intense sensations rippling deep into her wet cunt. Her eyes revealed she was ready to cum again; her nails sent him a message through his skin. Slamming into her faster, her eyes rolled back as she moaned loud, her pussy clenched down hard on his cock. She came with an intensity she’d never before felt. She explored his mouth as their tongues entwined. Wanting all of him…
She calmed as they kissed.
She devoured his tongue and fed on his kiss as she moved fiercely beneath his body. Pools of their body juices collected between her breasts. Her skin glistened in the light and dark shadows that danced across their bodies as she responded to his touch. Her calves over his shoulders, she lifted her pussy up tightly to his buried cock and ground a rhythmic motion against his full, floating ball sack with the cheeks of her ass. In this position, she had complete control of her hungry pussy, taking his cock in to the full depth of her wanting sweetness. She clenched his cock and massaged his engorged shaft with silent, slick muscles that drew the love out of him, through him—to her at her will. Squeezing again, clenching and releasing his cock, she felt the huge head of his cock pounding her interior walls. He paused, inhaled and shoved in as deep as he could.
God, she moaned silently, she wanted to come right that second…but she breathed, and waited for the fire to burn out of control again until she could no longer resist. He dropped his clenched fist between their bodies and positioned his knuckles against her sensitive clit. She rubbed against his fist, his knuckles pushing back the hood of her clit; exposed, her unprotected bead responded to the rhythms of her body against his, growing, reaching, enlarging. His cock felt bigger, harder, stronger and more demanding as she moved with hunger. He withdrew, then plunged back in over and over again. And it built, again, it built, again...the blue pain of passion turning red with the fire from within then…then…yes, there, there, right there…
“I can’t breathe…yes…oh God, yes…fuck me, fuck me, yes please…fuck me.” Her pussy tightened involuntarily around his shaft; the clenched walls drew his liquid passion to the head of his cock as he erupted uncontrollably inside her…Her clit ignited an explosion that raised her torso from the floor, buried her shoulders in the plush carpet and her head in his neck. She screamed in silence and whispered his name as she reeled, contracted, fluttered and released her heat in waves of shuddering come. She bathed his throbbing cock with her fire-branded, honeyed juices and was then, at once, floating in a sea of white hot passion…
He lay across her trembling body, relaxing within her soft heated darkness, and moved a small wet, auburn curl from her forehead with the tip of his finger. He looked into her hazel eyes, which were refocusing on reality.
“God, Sailie…”
“Shhh, don’t say anything, not yet…just give me a minute, please.”
“You’re so beautiful,” ignoring her plea.
“I don’t think I have ever been pushed so far, so relentlessly—deliberately, so passionately ever before. I’ve, I’m…”
“Shhh, now don’t you say anything. Let me help you up.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to use my legs…”
“You’re welcome.”
Sailie laughed and took his hand up. When she was on her feet he bent to kiss her and she kissed him back eagerly.
“This is where I came in once before…”
“What? How so, Sailie?”
“Well, I forgot my manners when we first met and there, I went and did it again!”
“What…?”
“You’re welcome, too!!” And she broke out in self-approving laughter. “There! We’re even!”
“Oh, geez. Funny chick! How about that drink you offered? I believe I earned it.”
“That you have! Want a SoCo Mannie again?”
“Sure! Lead the way and I will make ’em. Think we should put some clothes on before Meesa gets here? I wouldn’t want to give the goods away if we don’t like each other or you change your mind.”
“Hummm, you have a point. Seems a little ‘out there’ for her to walk in on a pair of naked, sweaty bodies. I have some shower wraps in my bathroom. Will those do?”
“Yeah, sure. Ah, the bar. I see what you mean about the view. It is beautiful and very romantic. It does look like a bed of iridescent jewels.”
Sailie was already down the hall and didn’t answer, but someone did.
“Yes, and she was standing right where you are standing now, when I came out of the hall shadows and slipped my hands up her silk blouse to tweak her nipples, like this.” Meesa said having slipped in soundlessly. She palmed Dylan’s pecs and rolled his nipples between her fingers, pinching and pulling.
“And did it have a similar effect?”
“Well, yes, in some ways—although she didn’t respond with an erection.”
“No, I suspect not.”
“But, I am not averse to that responsive greeting.”
“Does Sailie know you are here?”
“No, I don’t think so—not yet. So, am I to presume that you two started without me?”
“Ahhh, yes, Meesa, some time ago. In the parking lot, in fact.”
“Well, I suppose we could all use a relaxing—recuperative—drink!”
“I’m making ’Tini’s and SoCo Mannies. Your pleasure?”
“Just a glass of Chablis, please…in the fridge under the bar.”
“Got it.”
“Oh, Meesa, darling! When did you get here?”
“Oh, about two blushes and a hard-on ago, Sailie. Dylan is working on Mannies; want one?”
“Oh, God, but you are so funny! Here, Dylan, you can sport this around your ah…Mannie,” and Sailie handed him the pink terry wrap-around replete with ribbons and bows. The two ladies chuckled as he secured the Velcro fastener around his waist. Meesa’s influence on him was losing its ‘inspiration’ so while it was still a pink-ribboned terrycloth wrap, he still managed to look all male and ‘Mannie’ in it.
Covered, Dylan finished fixing cocktails without further distraction, gave each of the ladies their glass and sat on the couch to enjoy the view. He sat with ease and comfort, a relaxed confidence—the way that athletes who are comfortable in their muscles and skin sit on the bench—waiting to get back into the game.
Sailie studied him as he enjoyed the drink and view. He put his feet, crossed at the ankle, up on the coffee table and held his drink in his right hand with his arm on the armrest of
the sofa. He was casual, yet taut, confident and relaxed. Sailie wondered if he ever thought about his good looks or if it was just a part of him. Athletes were like that. They relied on their bodies; they were never in awe or wonderment by the beauty, the majesty. Sailie speculated perhaps they only thought in terms of limitation and betrayal—what they could not or had not done or could no longer do.
She wondered if he knew just how beautiful he was—to her, she realized.
Sailie inhaled deeply and sighed as she relaxed her breath. Dylan’s hair was short, but tousled; he had a sexy 5 o’clock shadow in the making. He was sculpted but lean, and looking at his body made Sailie think of an artist’s model. This stranger that sat comfortably relaxed in her living room sipping on fine liqueur moved her unexpectedly. She took a sip from her drink and continued to look at him over the rim of her glass, the city lights reflecting off the cut crystal tumbler he held in his hand. His eyes sparked with a flash of flame that danced across the dark irises and she wondered if he felt the same flame in his heart. And over that heart was the trident tattoo she asked him about when they met. He’d had her anyway, even before she saw it.
She smiled at the memory. And smiled to herself yet again—making memories already?
This stranger, this beautiful stranger, who was closer to being her lover than someone she just met, was even more complex than any stranger could ever be—and most intriguing to her. What little she knew about him fed her appetite for more of him—the rest, she surmised, really didn’t matter. But, the freedom that had released her also captivated. And had her asking what she wanted from this charmer—and what he wanted from her.
Meesa, who had quietly been sipping her Chablis with her feet up on the coffee table too, rose with the silence of smoke and as much grace then strode over to the Bluetooth speakers, turned them on and locked on to Pandora through her phone. She began to dance. She was long-legged, lean, with boyish hips and a streamlined torso that supported full round breasts with big sand- colored nipples. She moved effortlessly, seductively, in the flickering reflection of lights. She was not trying to capture Dylan and Sailie’s attention, she was just dancing, the rest came with ease to her. Meesa danced and swirled, rounded her hips to the rhythm of the melody. As she twisted and swayed, she caressed her hands over breasts to her neck and pulled her hair up to the creamy crown of her head. Her eyes were closed the entire time and when she opened them, she realized that she had come full center stage for Dylan and Sailie.
Dylan was experiencing a little flickering himself and Sailie put her tiny elegant hand on top of the throbbing cock that apparently responded nicely to slow reggae. Meesa smiled a slow coy knowing smile and let her hair drop. She took a sip from her Chablis and stopped dancing.
“’Scuse me,” she said to no one in particular and disappeared, floated, down the dark hallway in long-legged satin strides.
“’Scuse me, Dylan,” Sailie murmured when she stood to follow Meesa.
Dylan smiled acknowledgement as she evaporated into the darkness in a wisp of chartreuse terrycloth.
“Meesa don’t, please,” Sailie said as she caught up with her friend in the guest powder room.
“Hey, baby. What? I was just going to freshen up…” Meesa pulled her tube top up over her head, her breasts bouncing free.
The temptation…there it was again—and holysweetjesus, she was pure unadulterated sex on a satin stick.
“Yes, I know. Look, I can’t. Do you mind? I just can’t. Not tonight.”
“All sexed out?”
“No, not yet, that’s for sure, baby. I just can’t. You understand, don’t you? I don’t want to share.”
“Well, aren’t we a little selfish bitch tonight?”
“I suppose so, wouldn’t you be…with me?”
“Well, maybe, but he is such a juicy piece. I might make an exception for him…and you. What a pair!”
“Listen, take my car and go on home. I’ll call you tomorrow and we’ll decide what to do then. Is that okay; do you mind?”
“No baby, that’s okay. To be honest, if it wasn’t for you asking, I would be at home in bed alone already. You pretty much wore me to the bone last night and after a full shift tonight, I’m not sure I would have been very entertaining anyway. But, I was willing to try because you asked. I’ll just grab my bag. I left it in the kitchen with your keys when I came in. Tell Dylan, well, tell him next time.”
Sailie ran her hands, open palmed up Meesa’s lean sides to her breasts and Sailie pressed herself against the woman. Meesa pulled at the terry wrap and Sailie’s breasts popped out above the trim. And the two women kissed, deeply sweetly…purely.
“Sailie…my phone!”
“Take mine. It’s on the counter. I’ll call you tomorrow. Ooops, later today!!”
Sailie stepped back and adjusted the terry romper. The girls laughed and pecked. Sailie turned and walked down the hall back to Dylan.
She emerged from the long dark hallway quietly, walking barefooted on the plush carpet. He was listening to music, his head resting on the back of the couch, his feet still crossed on the coffee table. His big toe was moving to the beat of the music. Sailie found that endearing. She ran her fingertips along his shoulder and his hair as she rounded the sofa to stand in front of him. As she did, he opened his eyes and watched her kneel between the sofa and coffee table.
“What…where’s Meesa?”
“She went home.”
“Really? Why?”
“I don’t really know. It sounded like such a good idea at the time: a decadent indulgence. And then, well, the more time I spend with you… You were right; I changed my mind, I guess. I just didn’t feel like sharing you,” and she crawled up his thighs to lay across his chest and listen to his heart.
“I’m glad. Don’t get me wrong! There aren’t too many men that would turn down a threesome with a long-drop-of-blond and a too-hot-to-touch-redhead. But, to be honest? I thought you were just about all I could handle or wanted to indulge.”
“I suppose that is every man’s dream, isn’t it? An erotic three-way ménage-a-trois with two beautiful women—especially for a guy that has been in the Middle East for how long?”
“Yes, there is that, too—fifteen months. But, that was not my reluctance tonight.”
“Really? What was? Your reluctance, I mean.”
“Hum, I’m not really sure how to explain it—but I guess you were.”
“Me? How could I be? I suggested it! I was actually looking forward to it.”
“Obviously, you had some reluctance, too. You changed your mind.”
“Don’t turn this on me! You started; you continue.”
“Look, I was in the Middle East for fifteen months and sure, I was pretty horny even before I saw you tonight, but I like to think I learned a few things about myself while I was there.”
“I’m sure you did, but what?”
“Sex isn’t everything. It certainly isn’t the only thing. It’s part of a whole. Sex isn’t life on a cock or inside a pussy. Life is everything—and nothing—and enriching life is the only thing. When you are elbow to elbow with a man you spend twenty-four hours a day with—more than a wife or a child or a parent—you learn a lot about what is important and why; that generally involves someone other than yourself. Don’t get me wrong—I love sex and the prurient more visceral aspects of my appetites. But, watching someone take a bullet, holding someone as they’re dying so they aren’t afraid, promising to tell their fiancée that they are loved, writing commendations for the dead, visiting a battlefield buddy who will never have sex again—those are life affirming moments. And they only underscore the importance of all the other aspects of life. Silly, in a way, but when I landed today at Travis, I wanted an ice cold beer and pizza, not a hot broad—or two. War trains one’s focus to the simple things in life and the values they represent. I’m sorry. I really didn’t want to go off on a tangent. I guess what I’m saying is that I wanted a mouth-watering burger not a ba
nquet. And that is exactly what I got—you. And that is enough for me, in fact, as much as I can—or want—to handle. I just didn’t want to disappoint you by declining if that is what you wanted.”
“Ah, you would have been willing to make the sacrifice for me?”
“No, no sacrifice! Indulging in two beautiful women is in no way a sacrifice. I guess I have lost my finesse speaking to a woman. I don’t mean to offend you, or your friend. It’s just that…well, I really like you; I like you a lot. War teaches us that life is precious and not to be taken for granted. What we have today may be gone in a whisper. I want to savor you. I want to roll you in my mouth like fine wine. I want to inhale you like one of my finest cigars. I want to look at the stars and see your eyes. I want to see the moon in your smile and your heart in mine.”
“Oh, my God, Dylan…that is, no one has ever…you are so—poetic.”
He laughed. “I find that hard to believe. I never have been. But, I have grown and matured since fighting in the war—so much has changed in me. There’s not a minute in my life that I want to waste or spend foolishly. My priorities have changed. Don’t get me wrong. I love women and plenty of them, just like any red-blooded male. But, I only want to love one…at a time, anyway!”
Sailie blushed at his confession yet it somehow changed how she looked at him, perhaps it was better said that it brought clarity to how she looked at him. She never felt closer to any man than she did Dylan at this moment. He was a curious blend of manly strength and vulnerability, a contradiction in traits of playful childlike wonderment and masculine command. She found his openness, his gentle sincerity beguiling. Sailie appreciated that his view was simple—life was for the living as it could all change in a heartbeat. She had allowed her life to get complicated when everything really was all so simple. It had changed in a heartbeat. She took a deep breath, relaxed against him, and listened to his heart pound out a poetic cadence which his fingertips played lyrically on her back and body. He brought out the music in her and played her like a fine Stradivarius: skillfully strong, artfully gentle, from a heartfelt memory or from a memory of the heart. She almost immediately fell in love with him, as insane as that sounded. Being with Dylan made her realize how much less she had settled for in all of her other relationships and how she had forsaken quality in a man and herself for immediacy. She was at a loss for words.
