One Week

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Athletic

We get home, after the car incident. We walk into the house, my house, and we don’t even have enough time to take off our shoes. The car incident still fresh in our minds, as soon as the door closes we kiss, that kind of kiss that you have when all there is is passion, I push you against the door. My kisses to your lips break, as they start on your neck, and shoulders.

My hands are quickly moving, to pull you out of your beautiful dress, that kind of dress that stops traffic. But you’ve already got me, and I don’t want the dress on you right now. I want to feel your skin. I drop down to my knees and look up to you, with a gleam in my eye. You think you know what it means and I reinforce it.

“I want to taste you”, I say, as I slide my hands down your legs to pull your underwear from you, now standing at the door completely naked, and yet I’m still clothed, but you don’t notice. Your hands are holding on to the door frame for support, my kisses are planting themselves from your kneecaps all the way up along your thighs. I can sense your wetness. I can feel that you want me, but I purposely dodge it, moving to your other leg instead, on the way by I blow a bit of air across, just to give you the chills.

You beg for it in your moans, when my kisses turn to bites, and to appease the beautiful girl pressed against my door, I slide one finger, slowly inside of your waiting bursa escort pussy. I can feel you shudder, and try desperately to forget the fact that my jeans have found themselves getting very crowded. As you grab my head, you speak in loud words to me.

“Fuck me with your tongue”, you say. “Taste me, lick me. I want you”. How one could ignore that is impossible and I push your legs apart, sliding my tongue first along the line of your wet, to give you an idea of what’s to come.

Instead of using fingers, as I would normally do right at this moment, my hands are massaging the inside of your thighs. My lips kiss your pussy lightly, and your legs shake a bit for every movement to it. I lick your clit once, and start to suck on it, softly at first, still massaging your inner thighs with my hands. A moan escapes my lips as I pleasure you, because I love this feeling. As I slide two greedy fingers inside of you, I tell you this. You know that I love the feel of your body, and you know that I love how you taste, but you know you need to hear it.

I continue to lick and suck at your wet for a while, until I can feel it. I feel it stirring in you and I want it. You grip my hair and pull at it a bit harder as I snake a hand up to grab and pinch your nipple, just at that moment, you let it out, as I try to catch every little drip of your wet with my mouth. Your moans escort bursa aren’t even moans anymore. The people next door would know what was going on, but we don’t care.

My kisses slow, as your moans quiet down, your breathing slows, and I kiss up your body again, stopping for a few hard bites on each of your nipples. When you kiss me, you kiss me almost drunkenly hard, and I know where we want to go from here.

You’re pressed against the wall. You stare at me, a want in your eye like no other. There’s something in you, there’s something in your movements, there’s something in your want for me, there’s something in the air.

I take your hand, and lead you to the stairs, but before we can get any further, you push me to the bottom step. I sit there looking up at you, still not quite believing that you’re actually here, at this very moment. I tell you things, how I’ve been waiting for it for as long as we’ve known eachother, and that I want you, more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. Your body is the perfect shape, your hands, your thighs, your breasts, your hair. All so soft, all so perfect, right now, forever.

You bite your lip, you tell me that you want to stay here forever.

“Fuck forever”, I say. “I want you, right now.” Your hand in mine again, I stand up and you kneel before me, but I won’t let you. As much as I want to stand at the foot escort bursa of the stairs and watch your beautiful mouth engulf my cock, I don’t want that now. I want to be inside of you. I want my hardness to press against your walls, I want to hear you moan. I want to kiss you until they become sloppy as our heat consumes us.

I push you down, now lying on the floor, but you won’t have that either. “I want control”, you say, as you (not softly, either) press me to the floor. I look up at you, your beauty, and for just one moment I think about how happy I’d be just lying here with you, entangled in eachother. But I know that neither of us really wants that, do we?

No, we don’t.

I spread my legs, and you instantly grab for my cock. “You can’t wait, can you?” you ask, a gleam in your eye, knowing full well what the answer is. Your hand softly strokes my hardness, before you crawl slowly over my body. My hands snake up to your sides, fingers gently on your skin, leaving goosebumps along the way.

“I want you.”

“I know you do, baby.”

“Now.”

No more words. No more signs, nothing.

With ease, you slowly slide down onto my hardness, engulfing it, my hands darting to your breasts, caressing your chest, flicking at your nipples, as we start into a rhythm, the same kind of rhythm of everything else. The first one isn’t soft and slow, the first one is necessary. The first one is a bit harder, a bit dirtier.

Grinding. Pushing. Hair in our faces, teeth gritted together. Not too fast, not too slow. The right pace.

Grunts and groans, words and moans.

Soon, it will all come together.

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