It’s Like That (5 page)

She nodded and said, “I want to. I really do.”

He buried his face in her neck again and scraped his teeth against an especially sensitive spot before licking and kissing the tiny hurt away. His hips thrust against her rhythmically, pressing the bulge of his crotch against her pussy. “Maybe you better clarify what you want to do, baby. Because I can’t think straight.” His voice came out muffled and hoarse, his breath warm against her neck.

She ran her fingers down his back and untucked his shirt. “It’ll be easier for me to show you,” she said, hit by a sudden attack of shyness.

He nodded against her neck. “Okay,” he said, his breath coming in pants now as he continued his thrusting. “Show me.”

She pushed against his shoulders until he sat back and relaxed against the back of the couch. She knelt between his legs and reached for the button of his pants. He groaned and dropped his head back, closing his eyes. She pretended not to notice the wet spot on the fly of his pants that resulted from him grinding against her.

She took a deep breath, steeled herself, and pulled him free of his pants and boxers.

*

Chris couldn’t look at her, at her mouth and hands so close to his cock. But closing his eyes intensified the pleasure to the point that he was afraid he’d embarrass himself. So he stared at the top of her head, trying to enjoy this hand job or blowjob, or whatever the hell she was going to do, at least for a few minutes before he blew his load all over the place.

She stroked her fingers up and down his shaft lightly, and her breath wafted across the bulbous head. His hips arched before he could control the action, and the head pressed against her lips just enough for a touch, but not enough to slip between them. A drop of moisture had beaded at the tip of his cock and clung to her lips. She licked it off, and he tilted his head back and closed his eyes with a moan. When he felt her lips surround his head of his cock, he jerked his head up and opened his eyes.

Her eyes closed, and her hand fisted at the base as her lips slid down his shaft. Unable to stop himself, he twined his fingers in her hair and lifted his hips to thrust himself farther into her mouth.

“That feels so fucking good, baby,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

He felt light-headed with the pleasure, and the way she was working his cockhead almost exclusively soon became too much intense pleasure to bear. He thrust his hips again and gently pressed against the back of her head, encouraging her to take him deeper. She’d never be able to take all of him; no woman ever had.

“Can you go deeper?” he asked, his voice sounding hoarse.

She said something around his cock, and he felt the vibrations throughout his entire body and hissed in a deep breath. Then she lowered her lips, farther and farther until he could feel her throat working around the head.

“Fuck, Callie!” He couldn’t stop himself from thrusting then, in and out of her hot mouth, her tongue working furiously against the sensitive underside of his cock. Every deep thrust resulted in a squeeze from the back of her throat, and he couldn’t help the filth that spewed from his mouth then.

“Yeah, that’s right baby. Suck my fucking cock.” Thrust, squeeze. “Suck it. Take it all, baby.” She found his balls with her fingers, drawn up tightly against the base of his cock and massaged them. His cock plunged into her mouth over and over and he could feel his orgasm gathering, ready to erupt.

“Can I come in your mouth, baby? Please, let me come in your mouth.” The words were heavy, breathy, falling from his lips, and sounded far too desperate to his own ears.

Her head bobbed faster while her fingers worked his balls furiously, and he took that as consent. Unable to hold back his orgasm any longer, he stopped trying and let himself come. He came hard, harder than he ever remembered coming. So hard he saw spots in front of his eyes. Cum shot out of the end of his dick like from a fire hose, splashing against the back of her throat while she continued to work his cock. Harsh groans and raunchy language were wrenched from his lips as he shot stream after stream of cum down her throat.

“Yeah, baby, that’s right.” He gripped her head, unable to let go, and thrust himself farther into her mouth. “Suck my fucking cock dry.” He watched as his dick disappeared into her mouth. “I’ve got so much cum for you, baby, swallow it all. Fuck!” When he saw the semen sliding from her lips and down his shaft, his eyes rolled back in his head and he let his head drop back onto the sofa.

She sucked until the last drop was gone and his dick was too sensitive to even touch. When she pulled away, licking her lips and looking up at him shyly, a surge of tenderness swept through him nearly as intense as the orgasm that had nearly made him pass out.

He grasped her under her arms and jerked her into his lap, tucking her head beneath his chin and wrapping his arms around her gently.

He kissed the top of her head and rested his cheek against her hair. His body was relaxed to the point of feeling boneless, and he closed his eyes for a moment.

When Chris woke up, he looked around for some indication of the time. It was still dark outside and in her house, except for the entryway light spilling into the living room. It was too dark to make out the numbers of the clock on the wall, so he shifted Callie’s limp weight on his lap to check his watch. Two thirty a.m. She stirred slightly and snuggled her bottom more firmly against his crotch. He grimaced. He’d come twice in twenty-four hours, thanks to his pregame before their date, and the growing erection beneath her was actually
painful.

Callie sat up suddenly, squishing his balls in the process. He yelped and his knees came together against the pain.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” She ran her hands over his chest and said, “What is it? Am I too heavy? Do you have a cramp?”

He fought back a surge of irritation that she thought his current dilemma was a result of her weight and gently moved her from his lap. Her dress was still around her waist, and his dick and balls were still hanging out of his pants.

“You’re not too heavy,” he assured her. “You just smashed my nuts against my leg.” He tried to smile at her through the pain while he held on to the throbbing orbs.

“Oh.” She looked around, still groggy. “Oh! I’m sorry! Do you need some ice or something?” She fought back what looked suspiciously like a giggle.

He looked at her accusingly as he gingerly tucked himself back into his pants and fastened them. “Are you laughing at me?”

She burst into nervous laughter then and he lunged at her, tucking her beneath him on the sofa. “Because if you’re laughing at me, I may have to spank you.”

“Whoa, there.” She held up a hand to call a halt to their play. “I’m not into that bondage and whips and chains stuff. I can’t handle that.”

He laughed and rubbed his nose against hers before settling his lips warmly against hers. He pulled away and said, “Neither am I. I was kidding.” He sat up, pulling her to a sitting position as well. “I know someone that goes for that kind of stuff.” He glanced down at her, appreciating the view below the waist. “Not my thing, though.”

She tugged her dress down to cover herself and said, “Well, I guess…actually, I don’t know what we’re supposed to do here. Do we go to bed and have the awkward moment tomorrow morning? Or do you go home now and we have it later?”

“How about this,” he said, running his fingers lightly through her hair. “We skip the awkward moment altogether. I’ll stay and cook you breakfast in the morning. And I’ll be gone by noon.” He held a finger to her lips to stop her from speaking and continued, “Not because I want to be. Because I’m on twenty-four-hour duty starting tomorrow at sixteen-hundred. By the time I’m done with this shift and get some sleep, it’ll be time for the wedding. And even though I know I’m your escort already, I’d really like to be your date too.”

She smiled up at him shyly. “I’d like that.”

He tugged her hair gently and pulled her closer for a kiss. He brushed his lips against hers slowly, softly before he pulled away and murmured, “Where’s the bedroom?”

She stood and tugged her dress into place and despite the dim light, he knew she was blushing.

“This way,” she muttered.

Chris took her hand and followed her to the bedroom, his heartbeat a dull thud in his ears. He hadn’t expected this. Hoped for it, yes. Expected it, no. He frowned in disappointment when she closed the bedroom door and immediately started opening drawers. She wasn’t going to sleep in the nude. He watched her silently for a moment before unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off.

She turned to him with clothes in her hands and looked him over. He couldn’t help it. He preened a little. She liked what she saw, he’d known at the pool, and that was worth the hours he put in at the gym each week.

“I’m just uh…gonna go put this on,” she whispered and dropped her gaze from his chest. She scurried off, opening and closing a door behind her that he assumed was a bathroom.

He grinned and stripped down to his boxers and folded his slacks and shirt. He tossed half a million little pillows off before climbing into her frilly bed. Her sheets were the softest he’d ever felt, and her comforter was fluffier than anything he’d ever slept under. He felt silly lying there among the ruffles and flowers, but he shrugged it off. He laced his fingers together and tucked them behind his head, settling in to wait.

Callie emerged scant minutes later, the light from the bathroom creating a halo around her that, in the darkness, made her look otherworldly, almost ethereal. He swallowed in an attempt to speak, and then he gave up and simply held his arms out.

After a brief but nerve-racking hesitation, she flipped off the light, climbed into bed, and moved into his arms. He tugged her close and pulled her head onto his chest.

“Good night,” he murmured softly against her hair.

“Good night,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes with a smile and slipped into a peaceful sleep.

Callie woke the next morning to the most wonderful sensation of fullness. Before she even opened her eyes, Chris’ warm lips circled her nipple through her nightgown and suckled, pulling wetly at the soft tissue until it firmed.

“Ahhh…” She moaned and stretched, too happy to question the sensations.

She arched as his long fingers thrust into her pussy in a slow but steady rhythm. Chris nuzzled the underside of her breast with a whispered, “Good morning.”

She opened her eyes and smiled up at him, in awe of how he could look so refreshed and…well, just
hot
first thing in the morning. It just wasn’t fair. He gave her that half smile as she whispered back, “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“I slept fine. Better than I have in years.” He thrust his fingers back into her, eliciting another moan from her. “But the best part was waking up.”

He circled her other nipple with his lips and gave it the same attention. “Now, you have a couple of choices.”

“Mmm, ’kay,” she murmured, arching into him.

“First, I can keep doing this,” he nipped gently at her nipple for emphasis as he thrust two fingers deeply inside her. “Or,” he lifted his lips and pulled his fingers out to spread her wetness over her clit. “I can stop, and you can eat the breakfast I made.”

She lifted her hips and grabbed his head, pulling his lips to hers. “Breakfast later, definitely.”

He grinned at her and pushed two fingers inside her again, rubbing the heel of his hand against her clit. “See, the thing is, last night, I wanted to taste you. Today, I want to see you. I want to watch your face when you come for me. And…” He paused and bent his head to pull her nightgown up with his teeth. “I really want to see these beautiful tits. They bounced around all night last night, and I never even got to see them.”

She grabbed the hem of her nightshirt and sat up, tugging it over her head. His gaze immediately zeroed in on her breasts, and despite her shyness, she arched her back and tugged his head down to her breasts.

He didn’t put up much of a fight, but lowered his lips eagerly, licking and sucking her puckered nipples. There was something so erotic, she mused dazedly, about watching him kiss her breasts while he had his hand buried beneath her panties stroking her to orgasm. The slow thrust of his hand kept her constantly on the edge, but never moved fast enough or pushed hard enough to send her spiraling into orgasm. He worshiped her breasts with his lips, tugging on her nipples until they were more sensitive than she could ever remember.

Finally, when she was ready to beg again, his lips traveled up her throat to whisper in her ear, “Are you ready to come for me, Callie? To squeeze that tight little pussy and cream my fingers?” His hand sped up and increased the friction against her clit while his lips tugged on her earlobe. “Come for me, baby. Come just for me. Think about how my cock will feel crammed in that tight pussy, stuffing you full, fucking you until your legs shake and you’re hoarse from screaming my name.”

She dug her nails into his back, her arousal increased by the dirty words he whispered and the erotic images they conjured. She arched her hips as he plunged his fingers into her faster and faster. He added a third finger and the fullness caused a twinge of pain combined with an unbearable pleasure that sent her careening into orgasm.

His name fell from her lips as he continued his assault on her dripping pussy. “That’s right, baby,” he said as he leaned up to watch her face while she came. “That’s right, come for me. Drench my fucking fingers, baby. God, you’re gorgeous when you come. So fucking sexy.”

She heard his words but was so lost in her pleasure that they barely registered. He continued his husky words and thrusting fingers through the spasms until they began to fade.

The tremors of her orgasm eased, and he slowed his hand but didn’t completely stop. When she was painfully sensitive, she reached down to stop him, but he grabbed both of her hands in his free one and jerked them over her head. “No. Come again for me.”

He resumed his previous speed, three fingers thrusting rapidly into her. She twisted her hips and cried out at the overly intense sensations, convinced she wanted him to stop but unable to speak the words that would stop him. She wasn’t sure if she was capable of forming coherent words through the intensity of the sensations.