You try to bite hard, but you’re still stuck between me and the wall. I force my cock down your throat until you’re willing again. When I feel I have been cleaned sufficiently, I allow you to stand. I lift one of your legs, wrap it around me, and I push my cock into your pussy. I don’t care if you’re wet or not, but you are. I drive your body into the wall, over and over, keeping your hands in mine, pressed. I fuck you until you come. I back away, your hands still in mine, bound without bindings. I push you on to the bed, and I fuck you again, this time, until I come.
And I release you.
Wolves again, but only one of us is licking wounds.
Dance of Desire
You hold my hand, a grip that’s gentle, yet there is no intent to release me quickly. I follow as you guide me up the stairs of your home and into your boudoir. It’s a brightly decorated room, and the sunlight from the windows illuminates you and your faintly predatory smile. I smile back, a touch of the predator in me too, for I know that soon I will be the one leading this particular dance.
You pull me in front of you, and our lips meet, slowly at first, but then our kiss deepens, and heat builds in our bodies. You break off, gasping a little, before pushing me onto your bed. I pull you to me, my hands around your waist and my face buried in your belly. Your hands run through my hair as I reach up to undo the zip at your back. I feel you shiver slightly as my hands reach under your clothes to touch your soft skin. I pull back to let your dress fall to the floor, then pull you onto the bed with me. You resist, not ready to let me lead you yet. You pull off my shirt quickly, wanting my skin to be as bare as yours, as you stand there in nothing but a pair of panties. You negotiate my buckle and zip quickly, but not hurriedly, not wanting me to know the depth of your desire, and yet showing it so well by the look in your eyes.
I pull you down, intending to have you land atop me, but you tease me still and lower yourself next to me. I prop myself up on my elbow to observe you as you luxuriate beside me. My hand traces your curves slowly, from your neck, down between your breasts, to the soft swell of your belly, and lower, to the edge of the panties that still inexplicably cover a part of you. I look into your eyes and lean forward to taste your lips again as I slowly remove the last part of your clothing.
My hand lightly brushes past the sweet pinnacle of your breast, and your resulting shiver affords me a glimpse of what you like. A longer caress brings more of a reaction. I move my lips across your cheek, towards the earlobe for which I’ve hungered for so long. I exhale in sweet bliss as I take that soft piece of flesh between my teeth, as your pleasure increases mine. My tongue leaves a moist trail down your neck as I start my journey, the journey I’ve waited so long to experience.
Despite your moans and urgings, I take my time, savouring, even though I crave taste of the centre of your sensation. I explore every pore of your shoulders, breasts, and belly, slowing further as I get closer and closer to my goal.
Your aroma is heady, intoxicating, alluring, I savour for a moment, just inhaling, before I slowly trace my tongue up and down the lips I’ve so longed to kiss. I taste your moistness, gently probing between your lips, finding the tiny tongue at the top, circling it before closing my lips around it, taking it into my mouth, where I can nibble gently to the sounds you make.
I angle my head downwards, allowing the roughness of my goatee to tickle the tiny nub I’ve released, and I finally, deeply, kiss the lips I’ve longed for, the lips I’ve never seen until this day, and they taste better than I’d ever imagined. I revel in them, probe between them, drink from them deeply, and deeper as your moans rise to screams, and the sweet song of your voice simply adds to my greed. I only pull away when you can scream no more; then, turning back to look at you, I ask, “What can I do for you next, baby?”
