The doorbell chimes a second time and tutting loudly you rush downstairs to confront the unwanted courier. And thinking Lord help them if it’s the Jehovah Witnesses or a politician’s minion out canvassing votes!
The rain hails against the windows, and knowing the state of the roads you’re surprised that anyone is out today. You approach the door with curiosity and indignation.
Door opened, just a bit, and the man standing in the gray world outside offers a small, but real, smile.
You know who it is. But you wait…
“He could hear you.” he says.
“Who?” you ask.
He steps up to the door and you are opening it without thought, too startled to think of a reply. In fact, in the time it takes for you to bring your thoughts back together, the door is full closed behind him and his fingers are under chin, lifting your eyes to his and exposing your throat to the light.
Leaning in, his next words are spoken against the slender heat along the pulse in your neck, his lips so close they taste the warmth of your arousal and breathe it back out as words.
“He heard your heartbeat.” And with a nipping kiss he nips at your throat, “Here.” His hand rests lightly on your hip, then trails down to your thighs, “And here…”
And then there is no room for words, or thoughts, or anything, but his fingers finding ways to open you, to expose your skin.
His leather jacket dropped, his jeans undone, his shirt opened, it takes minutes, seconds, too fast, too right. Your green dress hoisted, the cold hard metal ridges of the old Victorian radiator pressing to your behind. And his lips are on your skin, really on your skin, and he doesn’t have to speak the words for you to feel his hunger.
He slides to one knee, hooking your leg over his shoulder, and he draws your panties aside, his head tilted up to draw you in, to drink you, his tongue finding your clit, a pearl between his lips, and he teases until your fingers grip the long mane of his hair.
~ VI ~
My cock feels so hard behind you. Your fingers fumbling to press your toy to your sex. Your new green dress pushed high up on your slender waist. Your knees spread wide, pushing down into the white shag of your bedroom rug.
My fingertips return to tug at the bronze loop. Bitten in the jaw of that naughty skull. Teasing us both as I test your resistance, the new pleasures we’re unlocking as the myriad of nerves pulse with glorious sensations, tingling, turning us on, from all around the inner rim your sweet tight virgin anus.
I tug a little more and marvel at the sight of your anus yawning open, revealing more of the smooth polished silver hidden inside. I revel in the pleasure of watching you open and close as I tug the plug from the inside to the out, then watch, mesmerized as your tiny muscles grip to draw the steel back in.