Pushing Her Limits

Pushing Her Limits

Copyright 2012
Mandoline Creme

This is a work of
fiction. Names, places, characters, or events are either the product
of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any
resemblance to persons, alive or dead, is completely coincidental.

****

To say that Brandy was a curious girl would be a fair statement. The
curse of youth is often that, to be intrigued by the unknown

But
she had her limits, and she was bold enough to verbalize them.

So,
then, how had she ended up debating with her friend Paul over the
very concept of anal sex?

“I'm
telling you, Brandy, you're being too bull headed here.”

“Did
you just call me a cow?” She scoffed, propping hands on her
slim hips. At 18 years old, she had a body ripe with natural curves,
yet toned from years of soccer. To that event, the sport had created
the perfect thickness to the muscles of her hamstrings; Thighs tall
and rounded till they dipped in, then out, to a gravity defying ass.
Solid yet soft, she was proud of her figure.

Paul
shook his head, palming his forehead dramatically. “All I'm
saying is that you shouldn't knock it till you try it.”

Rolling
her smokey grey eyes, the red head shook her long tresses and sighed.
“Whatever! You just want to do it with me, that's all. You
don't care if I'd hate it.”

Leaning
back in his chair, Paul grabbed the glass on the living room table
and tossed back a swig of the amber liquid inside. Straight whiskey
burned, but he preferred that over the sickeningly sweet mixed drinks
or bitterness of beer. “No, look.” He paused, considering
his words, before nodding at her own glass to suggest she take a
drink as well. When she only pouted harder, he groaned and took
another deep drink. “What I've been trying to say is that
you'll miss out.”

Brandy
stared into her cup, shifting where she had curled up on the couch
across from her friend. She had come over to study, but that had
quickly turned into a debate about how their friend Christina had
bragged about taking it in the ass to him as a tactic to get him into
bed; Something he was clearly not interested in, with her, at least.

“Paul,
the fact is this.” Adjusting on the couch, her smooth, sexy
legs crossing one over the other, she unintentionally caused her
skirt to crawl higher; Revealing a length of tan thigh. Tilting her
drink to her berry red lips, she swallowed and went on. “You're
just trying to talk me into it, so you can laugh when I complain
about it later, as I'm walking with a limp or something.”

This
caused him to start laughing, so hard he covered his face and curled
over on the opposite sofa. “What! Why would I ever want that to
happen to you?”

“Because
you like teasing me!” She shot back, tossing her hair and
glaring at the ceiling.

Her
friend calmed down, watching her quietly, as if trying to gather his
thoughts. “Well,” he began carefully, “I do tease
you, I guess. But it's not because of anything bad, or something. I
just...”

Her
attention went back to him, meeting his troubled hazel eyes. “You
just what?”

Instantly
he scrubbed a hand into his thick dark hair, standing up and pacing
towards the kitchen. “Nothing, never mind. Let me get more
whiskey.”

“Hey!”
She shouted, sitting up quickly; This made her head swim a bit, and
she considered that she might have had more to drink than she
realized in her anger. Standing, gingerly, she tromped on her
stocking clad feet after him into the small apartment kitchen. “You
just
what
, tell me!”

Turning,
with no where to go and his back to the kitchen counter, Paul
grimaced. Reaching out, he snagged her glass and held it still so he
could refill it. “Nothing, really. Forget it.”

Growling
in frustration, the red head yanked her cup roughly away, spilling
whiskey on both her thin green tank top and his hand; Drops cascaded
to the kitchen floor. “Tell me already!”

He
looked shocked, then annoyed. Setting the bottle and drink aside, he
snagged some paper towels and knelt to wipe the tiles. “Why is
it so important? Drop it.”

Cocking
her hip, her feet spread, she glared hotly down at him. “It
matters because I want to know.”

When
he glanced up, Paul found his eyes drawn instantly to the view of her
long legs, capped by her tight skirt that displayed her white panties
and delicious behind. Frozen in admiration, thinking slowly from the
alcohol, he stuttered. “I guess it's just that, um, I don't
know...”

“What!”
She demanded, hands tightening around her glass. The whiskey stain on
her shirt was making the outline of her nipples visible, and Paul
swallowed. Standing slowly, he took his whiskey and sipped it, then
gave it a swig, trying to think of a way out of this. Finally, he
turned his gaze back to Brandy in frustrated defeat.

“Fine.
I just like you, is all.”

Stunned,
she lifted her brows and stared. “You...like me?”

“Yes!”
He cried, moving to try and slip around her in the tight quarters.
His chest pressed into her shoulder, and she turned to try and let
him pass, but only ended up unbalancing the two of them. In shock, he
spilled more drink, but grabbed for her to steady her stumble. In
that moment, he gripped not her arm, but her lower back. Arm
encircling, he held her close while she gasped.

Baffled,
off guard, the soccer player tensed. Grasping her container, she
stared into his face which reflected her level of surprise. “Paul,
I, um...”

She
smelled like spices and strawberries, he noticed, before becoming too
aware of how she felt in his arms. Carefully, he let her go, and
stepped back into the living room. “Sorry, sorry,
really
pretend I didn't say anything dumb just now, ok?”

In
a swift motion, she downed the contents of her glass and slammed it
onto the counter, her eyes lighting in an even angrier glow than
before. “You LIKE me, Paul? You like me, and you think I didn't
know that?”

The
young man frowned, unsure how to handle this reaction. He felt a
twinge of shame, but buried it with his own rush of irritation. “If
you knew, why did you ask?”

“I...”
Doubt flickered on her face, something Paul caught and found curious.
Chewing on the bottom of her lush lower lip, she found the floor
suddenly very interesting. “I don't know. No reason, probably.
Forget it.”

Laughing
with a hint of sarcasm, he took a step towards her where she stood in
the kitchen entrance. “Oh, no, that's not fair. You got me to
respond, you can't cop out.”

Brandy's
cheeks were heated like crimson fire, and Paul noted this all too
well. Standing a bit straighter, he moved once more, until he was
close enough to smell the whiskey on her shirt. His voice was low,
rolling like soft thunder.

“You
like me too, don't you?”

She
snapped her head back, hair flipping, hands lifted as if to protect
herself from some onslaught. “What! No, that's...”

But
he was sure, now, and whether it was fueled by alcohol or some
strange sense of revenge for being cornered earlier, he pressed
himself closer; Causing her to step back. “You do, you DO like
me. You just never said anything... Why?” He cocked his head,
following her retreat until she bumped into the counter with no where
to go. Her eyes flashed with trepidation, her chest raised rapidly
with her breathing. “Tell me what you were worried about.”

“It's...”
Her voice was hushed, breathy. For a moment, she darted her gray eyes
around the tiny kitchen, as if seeking some answer, or an escape.
Inevitably, she dropped her gaze back to Paul, taking in the wild
tinge to his own light orbs. Not for the first time, she noted the
flecks of gold in his eyes. “I was nervous.”

“What?”
He blinked, clearly not expecting this. “Nervous of what?”

“Earlier,”
she mumbled, fixing her attention on the wall to her left
uncomfortably. Her arms folded, shifting her round breasts into an
even more prominent position. “I was planning to get drunk with
you tonight, and just sort of hook up and let it happen, you know?”
Turning her head, she gave him a questioning glance. “But then
you wouldn't shut up about all that anal stuff, and so I got scared.”

At
first, he said nothing. He watched her face, studied the look in her
eyes. With careful deftness, he swallowed the last of his whiskey,
set the glass on the counter, and moved his head closer to hers.
Their foreheads almost touched, his palms resting on the counter on
either side of her; A human barrier. “I think,” he
whispered, low and dark, “that you were curious, too.”

“No!”
She gasped, smelling his warm scent, feeling his closeness. Every
little detail of his lips were visible as he spoke, as he smiled
slightly. “I'm not...”

“You
are,” he stated, factual and cold. The situation, the power
shift, his blood pounding with desire and predatory need, mixed with
just enough whiskey.

He
was feeling amazing.

“You're
curious, you just don't want to say it. But,” he said, cutting
off her pouted response, “how about this.” He rocked on
his feet, bringing his teeth close to her left ear, voice a hush of
silky arousal. “If you think you're not, then take a bet with
me. If I can get you to want it, you let me, ok?”

Brandy
was baffled, but her head was swimming. The alcohol was making her
dizzy, confused, or was it his nearness? She had always found him
attractive, always enjoyed his witty words and the way his mouth
could make some of the most sly grins. His whole form was
intoxicating then, what should she do? If she said no, would he back
off? Did she not want to at least play around with him some? Hadn't
she confessed to planning that? “I...” She began, softly.
“I guess that's...um...”

Promptly,
he brought his teeth to her ear and nibbled, light and firm, but
sudden. She wasn't prepared, she gasped audibly and leaned back into
the counter with a moaning shiver. When he chuckled around the flesh,
vibrating her skin, she felt goosebumps rise. His tongue was soft and
warm, circling the shell like shape of her ear, down to her neck. His
mumble was almost quiet enough to miss.

“I'll
take that as a yes.”

****

Brandy
lay on Paul's bed, pressed deeply into the pliant blankets by his
firm, warm body on top of her. They had quickly stumbled from the
kitchen after a moment of brief necking, but he was insistent.
Crouched over her body, he continued to kiss her neck a bit more,
before making a trail with his lips up her jaw. Despite herself, she
was moaning constantly, wiggling under him with eagerness. Her
thoughts were blurred, she knew she had wanted this, and she couldn't
recall why she had been so hesitant earlier. When his mouth captured
her lower lip in a gentle nibble, she pressed back on him to turn it
into a full blown kiss.

Sensual,
sweet, raw and rough; Paul was an animal she had never known existed.
His fingers dug under her, forcing into her back to cause her to arch
her chest into him. Tongues danced, Brandy was barely able to breath,
and she didn't care.

He
had managed, she realized suddenly, to unhook her bra without her
noticing. With precision, he slid her shirt over her breasts in one
quick motion, freeing the round orbs to bounce softly in response.
Her eyes burned with passion and pleasant surprise at his
forcefulness, and red tresses tossed when he lowered his lips to her
left pink nipple.

Rolling
her head, she cried out helplessly, diving down into the wonderful
sensation. He pressed her up, deeper into his face, licking perfect
circles around her nub. Leaning over, he moved for the lonely
opposite tit, suckling rhythmically. His free hand took over on the
original wet nipple, thumbing and rubbing it in such a way she could
feel her body instantly react.

Shifting
with a wanton groan, she rubbed her thighs together; Feeling her quim
soaking, her clit beginning to swell. Losing track of time, all she
could focus on was her body budding with a growing fire, an
insatiable flame of passion. Clawing at the blankets, she cried out
when she felt his teeth, ever so lightly.

But
Paul was not done, no. He could tell her body was ready, if he had
wanted to fuck her then, he didn't doubt she'd thank him. However,
this was not his goal; He had made it clear earlier, he wanted to
prove to her what he could do to her, and she had agreed to giving
him the opportunity.

Lowering
himself, still toying with her lovely rosebuds, the man brought his
face to her bare stomach. Kissing, licking, he made a path ever so
slowly down to her quickly spreading thighs. Her scent was strong,
desperate and sweet with musk. Tugging her skirt away, bit by bit, he
revealed the tops of her hips, as well as the edge of her white
panties. Perfection, he marveled, making out the shape of her
womanhood. The pale cloth had become sodden, liquid making them
almost translucent where they touched her. The line of her slit had
nearly pulled the material inside, and he could easily see the
outline of her delicious womanly nub. That little button, begging to
be touched.