Letting him in


He pulls himself out of me and presses his body against mine, rolling us over on the bed. Suddenly I’m staring down at him, my thighs straddling his lower belly, his cock pressing against my backside. It would be so easy to lift and let him try and ease me open just there. “What am I doing up here? I was enjoying you fucking me.” I giggle.

He grins. “I’m looking up at you. I’m putting you on a pedestal. Except it’s more like a corkscrew, but meatier.”

“A cock screw, is that what you said? Well, that’s all right, then. Permission to carry on, Sir?”

He cocks his head in a mock-gracious nod, and then he’s still. And I wait, wondering what’s coming next.

“You really do love me, don’t you? It’s in your face; in the agony of your own ecstasy. I can see it in the curve of your jaw when your eyes are closed and you smile. And I can see it now.”

I don’t answer; but I reach round and grab him, pressing his tip closer. His chest heaves.

“Do you want me to fuck your arse? You know how much I love it.”

I smile, lifting and letting his cock flip between us. I rub it, letting it glide over my sopping clit until I hear the murmured “yeah”, gathering my juices on its way back into my pussy. I lay myself across his chest, kissing his neck, my tongue flicking and swirling against his skin, until his growls against my hair.

His hands slip behind me, the heat from his palms burning into my backside, branding me with an invisible mark of his need, as he pulls me harder into him.

“I see it when you open your eyes and look down at me with your wide, dark eyes. They glisten every time your mouth opens. With every roll of your hips backwards, and with every thrust as you ram yourself down on my cock. I see it.”

I throw back my head, my back arching in response to the frenzied attack of his fingers against my clit as I take him all the way in, hard and fast, then ease off him, over and over. I can hear my wetness slipping against his shaft. He hears it, too, and moans. Sounds turn him on. Watching him getting more aroused turns me on, too. My breath comes harder, and the sound of that makes his eyes glow.

I heap my arousal on him, and he responds, thrusting upwards between my thighs to meet me. My whole being converges on the fullness that makes me swollen, tender, wanting every inch of him until he can’t bear any more. He’s thick and so fucking hard inside me now, pulsing, changing, ready for release. I don’t want him to come now. I want more. My palms dig in his chest as I ride him furiously, begging him with my eyes not to explode in me now, the dew that had beaded over my skin now gathering and beginning to trickle between my breasts and down into the small of my back. In gasps, I answer him with a question. “What makes you think I love you?

His tongue begins to protrude as he pulls himself up to meet me. His breath is so hot, so enticing against my skin as he licks between my breasts, then flicks his tongue over the top, peaking my nipple, before nipping it between his lips. I’m motionless; I can’t fuck him while he’s making me want to come, doing that. My eyes close as he pulls my nipple hard, and the next I know, I’m on my back again.

His hands run the length of my legs, from the ankle bone, up the calf and along my inner thigh. I’m sure he’s going to push a couple of finger in me, and I want him to – want to feel him touching my walls, then sucking his fingers. I push my pussy toward him in anticipation and need. His fingertips trace over my folds and my eyes close as I wait for him to finger fuck me. I can hear him rattling in a drawer as his thumb rolls my clit. It’s then that I hear the squelch of the lube, but I don’t open my eyes. I just succumb to his touch; his hands run against the backs of my thighs and I squirm when he reaches the backs of my knees.

My eyes bolt open when he yanks my legs up and places one ankle on each of his broad shoulders, pushing my legs towards me until I can feel his cock exploring the pathway between my arse cheeks, seeking its prize.

He opens me up; reflexes mean I tighten around him, but not for long. I love the feel of his head pushing tis way in, inching in his length, his thickness stretching me. I watch him staring down at his cock slowly beginning to fuck my arse. I try to lift to meet him, but he holds me by my hips, almost doubling me over, controlling every motion. It excites me, him being in control. Of this. Of me.

“Well… what… makes… you…. think… I…?”I abandon the question as he plunges into me in one swift movement. His fuck gathers pace, until he is ramming himself all the way into me, his balls slapping me as he plummets my depths, again and again. His hands begin to grip my legs, hard, holding them tight to his chest as the force of his arousal leaves me gasping for air between my moans. I’m so fucking noisy when he takes my arse, and it makes his eyes wild. It makes his dick even harder.

His eyes screw up, the agony and ecstasy permeating his face as his throaty growl echoes round the room, his belly pressing itself to the back of my thighs as he comes deep in my arse. I don’t know if it’s watching him, or knowing that his spunk is filling me up with every pulse of his cock, but it drives my own orgasm, flooding through me until I’m drenched on the sheet. I feel only the lightning bolts from my tummy to every bit of flesh between my thighs, in unison with him, my body at some kind of contorted angle where he holds my hips in the air. I balance there, in a haze of exertion and satisfaction as, eventually, he inches his cock out of my arse.

When my gaze returns, I see his own, burning into my face, his breath leaving puffs of mushroom mist between us. His eyes hold mine, like a serpent drawing me in, rendering me powerless to resist. In one swift motion, his hands wrap around the back of ribs, pulling me to him. His cock drips onto my belly, and I bite my lip, smiling because to always means a shower, and a chance for my greedy mouth to satisfy his cock once more.

His face is against mine. My fire burns; my submission to everything he is fills me, as his words breathe onto my cheek:

“This. This is why I know you love me.”

I meld into him as he pulls me into his kiss. There’s no bed, no room, nothing; just the power of his lips and the clutch of his hair in my fingers, the battering of his heart against the walls of my own. But it doesn’t need to pound. I’ve already let him in.

Back to Home

4 thoughts on “Letting him in

Leave a Reply to Ina Morata Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.