Sapphire Eyes
An Erotic Short Story
By
Kimberly Kinrade
Sapphire EyesAn Erotic Short Story
By Kimberly Kinrade
Published by Daring Books
Copyright 2009 Kimberly Kinrade
Cover Copyright 2013 Dmytry Karpov
Edited by Dmytry Karpov
Adult Sexual Content
You may not use, reproduce, or transmit in any manner, any part of this book without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations used in critical articles and reviews. All rights are reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or the author has used them fictitiously.
Sapphire Eyes
And so you are drawn to me, by the sparkle of my sapphire eyes and the seductive curve of my ruby lips. My hair falls in soft, dark curls around my clear face, skin the color of blushing pearls. My gaze is penetrating and probing. Demanding truth and action. You expected something different? Coyness perhaps?
No. Some women need to play coy to seduce. Not I. Our eyes lock, and for a moment you can feel the heat crashing into you. An urgent expression of forces barely contained. An inadvertent seduction on my part. I did not seek this, but it has found us both, possessing us without invitation, fanning the spark of desire into consuming flames of passion and need.
Is it a testament to the smooth beauty of my face that it takes a full minute before your eyes are drawn further down, to the soft, full rise and fall of my breasts? Or are you paralyzed by the power of that look… and all that it promises? With a neckline revealing the creamy cleavage of the voluptuous, and the clingy blue fabric molding perfectly to accentuate the narrowing of my waist and curve of my hips, you begin to imagine all that is hidden beneath.
There is music playing, but you can no longer tell if it is playing for everyone or just us. Am I perhaps a magician, able to conduct an orchestra to the escalating beating of your heart? The frenetic breathing of your lungs? It hardly matters. We’re both too enraptured by the spell to look away. To walk away.
We are pulled to each other like magnets. Or moths to a flame perhaps? Let’s hope the burn doesn’t scorch too badly. Can you handle the heat?
Time and space disappear and we are alone. The where is irrelevant. Only the who is of any consequence. You and I. For now. Until such a time that there is no you and I to speak of. Bodies merged into one.
I fall into your sensual brown eyes. You claim me with a look. Your broad shoulders and sculpted body cause my heart to skip and flutter like a humming bird on crack. Your jet-black hair and goatee, your fighter’s physique, the stance of a predator on the chase for his prey…you are danger personified. You are my heroin. My addiction. My craving.
We haven’t even touched and already I can feel you penetrating my senses. Consuming me. Possessing me.
When you finally touch me your hand is surprisingly cool, like it might feel if I had a fever. Maybe I do. It’s a delicious sensation as you graze my cheek with the back of your fingers, a caress light and tender and stimulating in all kinds of unexpected ways.
My breath catches. I think I stop breathing entirely.
If a look, a touch, can send us both over the edge, what destined fate will a kiss bring us to?
I breathe your name out, as if I’ve known it my whole life. As if it has forever lived on the soft curve of my lips, waiting for this moment to be spoken out loud. To be made real.
“I want you.” You say this with a voice thick with longing. It’s a command and a plea. An order and a prayer.
“I can’t be had so easily. Even by you.” The words force themselves out of my throat even as I long to throw myself at you. But the music controlling us has not yet reached its crescendo. And so we must dance… in a manner of speaking.
“Let’s spar,” I say, still not touching you.
Your fingers have woven themselves into my hair. You could easily pull me to you. Kiss me. Taste me.
“I don’t fight girls,” you say, a grin tugging at your delicious lips. Lips I have to fight not to lick and tug at with my teeth.
“I’m not a girl.” My smile is scalding. “And I said spar. Surely you have enough control to keep from hurting me too badly? Or are you still an untested boy who throws himself wildly into the game without forethought or restraint?” I raise my eyebrow and challenge you with my eyes.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t,” I say as I pull away from you. “But if you want me, come get me.”
I swing my right leg up in a perfectly executed roundhouse kick, which you block easily. The block stings, but I don’t mind. I jump for a front snap kick with my left leg, but you are already two steps ahead of me. I knew you would be. I would be disappointed if you weren’t. I don’t expect to win. Or to even have a chance at injuring you. I want the rush. The excitement of the chase. Of the game. I also know you’re holding back. That you could kill me if you wanted, but you won’t.
And so we dance. Your kicks and punches come slow and predictable. I have to laugh even as I block. I don’t hold back, knowing I can’t really hurt you. But never aiming at the part of you I have plans for later, just in case.
We are breathing faster, though from exertion or arousal it’s hard to say. I do my best to hold my own, knowing I’m like a child sparring with an adult. I’m pretty strong. I have some training. But I am not the warrior you are. I am soft curves to your hard muscles. The knowledge that you could take me at any moment of your choosing is an aphrodisiac second to none.
A poorly formed sidekick lands me on my ass. I grab you on my way down, pulling you to me. You could have resisted, but you come, falling strategically onto me, so as not to crush me. Catching yourself. Pressing yourself between my legs. Pressing your broad chest against my heaving breasts.
We have yet to kiss, but I can feel its arrival like royalty heralded by a trumpet and procession.
Are there fireworks? I would not have noticed… or been surprised.
Your mouth tastes of fire and ice when it finally takes mine, our tongues enjoying their own dance. My arms wrap around you, clinging to you, fingers digging into the hard muscles of your back.
We have too many clothes on, I think, if you can call what I'm experiencing actual thought. Mostly I am lost in the need of your skin against mine. I tear at your shirt, trying to will it off your sexy body, without actually separating my body from yours. Finally it is gone. I bless the magic that has made this so.
But a thin layer of blue cloth still keeps us apart. I put my hands over my head and let you half tear, half pull the flimsy material off me. You groan in frustration as you fight with the hooks of my black lace bra, and my breasts are finally freed from their constraints. Your large hand covers one as you use your thumb to stroke my already hard nipple. Shivers of arousal shoot through my body like lightening. Pressure builds in my lower abdomen and my sex becomes wet and swollen. It’s my turn to moan.
I feel the hardness of your cock through your pants. You press yourself between my legs harder, rubbing my throbbing clit, even through the aggravating barriers. My hips arch, trying to push through everything to reach that glorious dick, so thick and long and ready. Your lips brush my jaw as your tongue traces a line to my neck. Your teeth graze, then tug at the rapidly beating pulse in my vein.
My nails dig deeper into your back and my breath catches in my throat as I choke on another moan. I’ve gone past wanting you, into absolute need. Can a person die from longing? I'm starting to believe so.
As your mouth finds its way over the cream
y white curve of my shoulder to my soft, full breasts, I nibble at your ear lobe and memorize the landscape of your neck and shoulders with my tongue and teeth, enjoying the salty, earthy taste of your skin.
I gasp as your teeth tug at my sensitive nipple. How is it that I can feel that all the way through my body?
In frustration I push you off of me. "Stand up."
The parting of our bodies is almost painful as you oblige, but necessary for the next step. Pants are not so easily shed as shirts it seems, particularly when they involve zips and buckles and buttons. Good Lord, were these the discarded designs of chastity belts?
I stay on my knees and tug and pull and snap and click until finally your pants fall to the ground. Your cock pushes itself out of your boxers. Gods be damned the thing is huge, in length and girth. For the first time I start to wonder if you really will hurt me. Your turgid member stands at attention well past the naval on your well-defined abs.
If the instant surge of wetness between my legs is any indication, I’m willing to risk the pain for the pleasure it promises.
My heart is hammering itself so hard against my chest I fear it will break itself free and fly away. Did someone plant a sledge hammer in there when I wasn’t looking?
I pull your boxers down, and you step out of all your clothing and stand gloriously naked in front of me. For a moment I am struck by your perfection. The artists of old would have cut off a limb to have you as a subject.
I know nothing of clay or molding, but my hands endeavor to learn every inch of you anyways, as if life and death hung in the balance of my ability to memorize you entirely. The gods of destiny and desire needn’t worry. This is a lesson I'm willing to learn by heart, body and soul.
I know that even if I never see you again, I will forever know the most minute detail of your body. It is burned into my awareness with alarming clarity.
I touch every stretch of skin save the one most desperate for contact. Only my breath teases the edges of your sanity as I move across your body. My hands expertly rub and massage every muscle in your body. They heat up and work you so perfectly, as if I instinctively know exactly what you want and need—where you desire most to be touched.
When my tongue finally slides from the base of your cock to the tip, you jerk towards me with desperation and painful need. I taste the pre-cum already dripping from you as I explore you with my mouth.
My hands cup your smooth sack, and my nails lightly tease your most sensitive skin as I take your tip into my mouth and gently suck and kiss. I look up at you with big blue eyes, seed begging eyes, full of unfed hungers only you can satiate.
I lower my mouth to your balls, stroking your cock as I lightly lick each sack, then take them into my mouth, savoring the taste of you.
I nibble at your inner thigh as I move back up to your shaft.
Your hands once again find themselves entangled in my hair as you push yourself deeper into me.
I love the taste of your cock. Love how it fills my mouth and pushes itself into my throat. As you pull my hair, thrusting your hips deeper still, I force myself not to gag. You are truly huge. You fill me and nearly choke me, but still I suck and lick. I want to feel every inch of you inside me.
My teeth scrape lightly against your mushroom tip as I tease you more. In and out. Hard and soft. I fill my mouth with hot water (let us not concern ourselves with where such things come from…) and take you again fully into my mouth, letting the hot water surround and warm your ever-growing cock. Can it get any bigger?
The sensation of swallowing the hot water as my soft, skilled mouth strokes you to a rhythm of escalation builds desire in you. You are ready, and I want to taste you.
I grab your tight ass and pull you deeper, so deep I can’t breathe. I am nearly choking on you. You are undone, and with a jerk of your hips you explode your hot seed down my throat. I swallow and lick you clean, pulling back so I can once again breathe. Inhaling air quickly and deeply. My lungs burn and my throat is coated with your cum.
Your hands rest on my bare shoulders as you attempt to recover. You stroke my hair softly.
After a moment you pull me up and yank down my pants, leaving me standing in black lace and satin thong panties. You push me up against a wall and spread my legs with your knee as you kiss me deeply, pressing your hard body against my soft curves. With one hand you hold my arms above my head, my hands together, unmovable. With the other you follow the flow of my body down my throat, cupping my breast, down my belly to my thighs.
Your hand runs up one thigh and down the other, teasing my center with the barest of touches.
You cup my mound through the silky fabric, rubbing and teasing me more. The wetness of my panties offers a wordless testimony to the effect you are having on me.
Finally your hand slips into my panties with expertise as you spread my lips and rub the hard tip of my clit. Your middle finger slips into the folds of my aching pussy, pushing into me. You easily find the one spot that sends me over the edge. Waves of pleasure roll and crash through me as I grip your finger with contracting muscles. You still have my hands bound over my head. Your body is pressed against me, keeping me from moving. I am undone from the inside as my legs go weak and my spine turns to jello.
You, however, are just beginning your sensual torture.
I can feel that throbbing cock pressed against my belly. I know you want me as badly as I want you, but you torment me by withholding what I need most. Instead you slide a second finger into me while stroking my clit faster. You let my arms go. With aching shoulders I wrap myself around you, clinging to you as you stroke me toward another climax before the first one has even receded. When I am on the edge of the cliff, ready to fall into infinity once more, you pull back, leaving me suspended in that blissful agony, begging for one final push to reach nirvana.
Damn you. Do I say it out loud? I don’t know. I’m not even sure I’m capable of speech by now. Your fingers are pumping me hard. Stopping and starting. Agonizing.
I can’t decide if this is hell or heaven, if you’re my demon or my salvation.
Your fingers pull out, and I feel as if I’ve just lost a body part—incomplete somehow. Your strong, powerful arms wrap around me, and you lift me up as if I weighed nothing. Pushing me against the wall, you position my wet pussy at your mouth, my legs wrap around your neck.
I hope you don’t drop me. Somehow this suspension against gravity escalates my arousal.
But my world is completely blown apart when I finally feel the flick of your warm tongue against my clit. Your large hands cup my ass as you tongue my pussy, licking and sucking. Biting my thighs. God, even your breath against my sensitive flesh is enough to destroy all reason.
When I come, I have no sense of anything at all except the feel of you. I don’t even have enough space to consider how strong you must be to keep me elevated as my body tenses and pushes against the rising and sweeping caress of each unbearable wave of pleasure. I feel myself squirt cum into your mouth as you continue to suck my clit and eat me.
When the blissful contractions slow, you carefully lower me. Holding my legs tightly, you impale me on your jutting cock.
With one powerful thrust you have speared me, stretching me beyond anything I’ve felt before. The pain adds to the pleasure as you hold yourself still inside me, allowing my body time to adjust. I try to breathe. I’m holding on to you so tight I’m sure I’m leaving marks. My normally strong legs are weakened by multiple orgasms, but I keep them wrapped tightly around your hips, digging my heels into your ass.
I adjust myself, moving my arms so I can push my fingers into your thick raven hair. I pull you to me and kiss you with a pent up passion that surprises us both. I taste myself on your lips, my juices lingering on your goatee.
You begin to move in me. Slowly at first, as you stretch me even more. If it’s possible to be split in two by your cock, then I welcome it. I need you in me. Deeper. Harder. Faster.
The cold wall rubs against
my back, but I take no notice of it, feeling only the pounding, pulsing, hungry cock I am riding.
You pull me away from the wall and carry me, still hard inside me, to the bed. Laying me down you move in me faster. Harder. I lift my legs over your shoulders, begging you to go deeper. I feel you in my stomach. My chest. My body aches with the pressure of you. My heavy tits move to the rhythm of your thrusts. I demonstrate my flexibility as you push my legs to the bed while you massage my tits with your hand as you continue to take me relentlessly.
Without warning, you pull out and flip me over. With my ass in the air, my raw nipples rubbing against the bed, you thrust yourself into my pussy as you play with my ass. Your fingers dig into my hips as we rock together to a whole new dance. Pain. Pleasure. God.
Your hand moves up the small of my back, and then you pull on my long dark hair, exposing my tattoos as my wild curls bounce with each thrust.
When we come, it is as one, and it reshapes the very fabric of the universe, of this I am convinced. This time your name is torn from my throat in a scream. I am ripped apart and remade in that moment.
This is the Big Bang.
This is the reset button to life.
This is what I have been waiting for.
And there are no words to describe this moment.
We are sweaty. Exhausted. Sore. Exhilarated. Wrapped around each other. Kissing. Touching. Not thinking. Not talking. Trying to breathe.
All of this happens in that fraction of a moment when our eyes meet. So you take that step toward me. When the music becomes internalized, our dance begins.
***
If you enjoyed Kimberly Kinrade's writing, consider subscribing to her short story site called A Gathering of Tales, and get the first look at short stories and bonus content written by her and her husband, Dmytry Karpov. Fans of the Seduced Saga and the Forbidden Trilogy will be excited to know that they will get emails of short stories within those worlds, with exciting adventures of their favorite characters. By signing up, you'll get EVERY short story she and her husband write, before it's published anywhere else, for only pennies on the dollar. Check it out today and sign up at A Gathering of Tales.
Sapphire Eyes (An Erotic Short Story) Page 1
