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She never failed to surprise him. And in that moment, she did so by giving him a deep, wet kiss, lapping her own juices from his face.
He blinked, unable to believe this was real life. Here stood this bombshell of a woman on his top step, naked as the day she was born, her face still flushed from the orgasm he had coaxed out of her. Fucking hell, his fingers still dripped with her juices. Never for a second could he have predicted this scene unfolding in his studio apartment where he’d slept alone nearly every night for 10 years.
She moaned, breaking him out of his reverie. “Baby, I taste so good on your face.”
If he wasn’t flushing before, he certainly was now. “You…like that?” he stammered.
She pushed her tongue deeper into his mouth in response. He traced her shape upward from her hips, to her waist, to her arms and shoulders; finally, he framed her face. Slowly—so slowly, because this was either going to be really hot or really unwanted—he moved the first two fingers of his right hand to her lips.
“Do you want to…taste yourself…on my fingers?”
His heart pounded. Yoba, he had never, ever spoken those words to anyone before.
She met his eyes, and he felt like he could see his soul reflected in their depths. Without a word she leaned forward, running her tongue along the length of his fingers. She lapped him, wriggled her tongue between the two, and then, while still holding his gaze, took his fingers in her mouth.
He gasped, feeling the warmth and wetness of her tongue. He had never understood what people enjoyed about this act—until now. Oh, the suction she applied translated terrifically to the sensation of oral sex.
His cock was so hard it ached—the way it did when he’d go several days without relief only to wake from a tantalizing dream.
She pulled away, drawing her lips along his fingers. He watched his digits emerge from her mouth, feeling the blood drain from his head. He was grateful he had one hand on the banister for support.
“Harvey,” she breathed, her hands moving to the front of his pants. She fumbled at his belt, releasing its snake’s bite on its own tail, and shed his khakis and boxers. “Please fuck me.”
Her words turned his insides to fire. She reached for his cock, and for a moment he worried she would plunge him into her right there, without proper protection. He exhaled shakily. A deep, animalistic part of him ached to do exactly that—but his ever-present ability to reason knew those consequences were not ones he dared chance.
However, her urgency was starting to convince him that he didn’t need to walk on eggshells, as was his default. He brought one foot to the top step. She moved backward, providing him space. He rose, standing in front of her.
Bending now, he kissed her—hard. His tongue moved in her mouth, and his hands found the unbelievable curve of her ass. He gripped her, pulling her body against him, his bare cock pressed between both their bellies. Then he moved his hands, finding her breasts, squeezing that soft flesh between his fingers.
She gasped, and he thought he would lose it right there, spilling himself across the skin of their bellies. Hurrying now, he began shuffling, moving them toward his bed with her somehow still pressed against him. When her body met the mattress, he maneuvered her atop its surface. Suddenly she was beneath him, and his higher thinking began to shut down. A guttural sound escaped his throat, and he felt her shudder beneath him.
Stop, there’s still one step left. As though someone were speaking to him in a dream, he parted the seas of desire and reached for the drawer of his nightstand. He retrieved a condom, moving back to his knees, pulling it on faster than he’d ever done before. Her body followed his, sitting up in bed, and then her mouth was on him—on his neck, on his nipples. Her hands ran up his thighs, her fingers finding his testicles and tracing their shape where they hung.
Another sound escaped his throat. Oh, he wanted to fuck her wildly—to ravage her body as though it were the only salvation from the fog of desire that clouded his mind.
But of course, he would proceed slowly, respectfully, as always. As she deserved.
He placed a hand on her chest, pushing her back down to the mattress. He shifted, placing the length of his cock on her belly. He allowed himself to look down, to take in the lurid sight of her body spread beneath him, of his cock resting along her perfect skin.
The sight nearly drove him mad.
“Oh, Yoba,” he breathed. “You are…so beautiful.” Bah. Surely he could have managed something more descriptive, had his brain been fully operational. But she writhed in response, her hands running along his arms and chest, her hips rolling back and forth just the slightest bit, and he felt the fog fill his head.
He ran the head of his cock over the bud of her clit. He watched her face, noting her response, feeling himself pulse in anticipation. Then he guided himself down her vulva, moving to the place where he had just lapped her pool. He dawdled there, feeling her renewed wetness spread across him where he rubbed her.
He gazed at her beautiful face, feeling his heart match the somersaults in his belly.
“Harvey,” she breathed, breaking him from his trance. “I want you to do something for me.”
He exhaled. “Anything,” he promised. Anything.
She raised her chin, her lips exquisite in the dim light of his apartment. “I want you to fuck me however you want.”
He stammered, feeling like he might literally collapse. “Wh…what?”
Her eyes held his gaze; behind those emerald pools he saw an ocean of lust. He was just a tiny boat bobbing in their great expanse, hoping the waves wouldn’t capsize him.
He could drown in those eyes. He could drown in her.
“Fuck me,” she repeated slowly, “exactly how you want.”
She watched him hungrily and moved her hands to her breasts, squeezing them between slender fingers. Then she moved one hand to her clit, stopping just inches from where his rock-hard cock was twitching at her entrance.
"B...but what about you?" Her pleasure came first. She couldn't possibly mean to...to just let him...
She rolled onto an elbow and placed a hand on his chest. "This is what I want," she said softly. Still, he paused, unable to allow himself to take that leap.
Her eyes met his, and she repeated herself. “This is what I want.” She spoke so softly; something squeezed at his heart. "Okay?"
He gazed at her for a moment longer. Then he gave himself over to the depths of those emerald pools.
"...Okay," he breathed.
…But, still, he couldn’t quite bring himself to proceed, to just…use her for his own pleasure. At least, not until he...
He leaned his torso forward, covering as much of her as he could while still holding his cock aloft just outside her entrance. Then he tucked his face into the crook of her neck and breathed into her ear.
“I love you.”
Her head swiveled, her lips catching his—soft but strong. He could feel himself relenting.
“I love you so much, my sweet Harvey.”
He closed the door to his higher thinking and descended into the fog.
Hinging his hips, he pushed himself at last into her tight, wet space. Oh Yoba, the way her body made way for him threatened to send him over the edge right there. They moaned in tandem, and he let his chest rest on hers.
Her muscles parted for him, working his shaft as though pulling him into place. She was intensely warm and wet. It was the most perfect sensation he had ever experienced.
He pushed further. Their bodies were familiar with each other by now, and fucking her felt like going home, like scratching a deep itch. He placed his head in the cradle of her neck. She moved beneath him, her hips pressing into his, her arms wrapped around his back. She reached down, finding his ass, and pulled him deeper into her. He moaned, feeling the head of his cock hit the end of her. If he wanted—oh Yoba, if he really wanted—he could roll his hips and press even harder. But it didn’t take a medical degree to know she would find that uncomfortable.
So instead he pulled back, revealing several wet inches of his shaft, before slamming himself back in her.
She yelped, and he flushed; he had never fucked someone like this before. Always the slow, predictable Harvey he’d been—moving patiently, earning trust, stuck inside his own head. But here he was, pulling back again, tensing his transverse abdominis, and thrusting himself into the deepest reaches of her pussy. Again. And again.
Her pussy gripped him the entire way. He drew a shuddering breath.
She ran a hand up his chest, coming to rest on his neck. Then she spoke, her voice almost supernatural.
“Is this what you want, baby?” she whispered to him, her voice kind but searching.
He grimaced, the sights, sounds, and smells of their coupling coalescing into an indistinguishable primal experience that seemed determined to take him apart at the seams. He let out a growl that surprised himself, and pulled his upper body off hers. Her eyes shimmered, and he swore she could see completely through him.
Without a word, she told him that he was wanted, desired, and welcomed. With just the movements of her body and the pitch of her voice, she told him that her desire matched his own, that no wish of his would turn her off or push her away.
He pulled his cock from her, grabbed one of her ankles where it lay against his mattress, and pulled it across her body, using the leverage to flip her as though she weighed nothing.
She yelped in surprise, but aided his movements. Her smooth back spread before him now, her legs parted where his knees rested between them. That primal part of his brain took another step forward, moving into the space where calm, competent Doctor Harvey was always exquisitely in control.
He reached his hands under her hips, pulling them upward, breathing hard. Her ass pointed skyward, her torso splayed on the bed.
Fuck, she was presented fully to him, her pussy wet and pink where he had just been fucking her.
Is this okay?
He almost spoke those words, but allowed himself to trust her—to believe that she wanted him to fuck her just the way he wanted. For the first time—ever, probably—he permitted himself to ride the wave of carnal lust and animalistic desire that coursed through him.
He briefly admired her body from this angle, then lined himself up once again and pushed inside her. Once again he parted her skin and muscle, sinking his length into her, feeling how their position had changed her body’s pressure against his cock. He groaned, finding himself pushing past tight places that were previously open to him.
The cries she sent into his mattress told him the pleasure was shared. He dared to place his hands on her ass cheeks, to sink his fingers into her skin and use the leverage to aid his movements. He looked down, watching his cock emerge from and then sink back into her.
Fuck, what had he done to get so lucky?
He fucked her harder, snapping his hips with a strength and speed he never before would have allowed himself. His hands crept forward, gripping her hips, pulling her onto him as he met her backward thrusts with forward thrusts of his own.
Her voice drew him from his reverie.
“Harvey,” she called over her shoulder.
Oh shit, is this too much? He paused his primal movements, guilt and shame settling into his gut.
“Yes? Are you okay?” he panted, feeling his cock pulse despite the sudden stop.
Her position didn’t allow her to meet his eyes, but he watched her lips as the words fell from them.
“Fuck me. Exactly. How you want.”
Yoba’s light. He groaned and relinquished his last grasp on control.
He spread his knees wider between hers, aware that his bony joints dug into the flesh of her inner thighs. Then he sank his torso along her back, resting his full weight on her.
And he pushed.
He reached the bottom of her pussy, and still he pushed. He rolled his hips into hers with all his strength, knowing it would be uncomfortable for her, but trusting her, believing her when she said…when she had said...
He was an animal, using her for his pleasure, taking exactly what he wanted.
She cried out, and to his shock, he found himself reaching a hand to her face, covering her mouth. To his shock, he muttered into her ear.
“Hush. Don’t want Pierre to hear us next door, do we?”
She moaned into his hand, and he fucked her—oh, he fucked her hard, burying himself in her in a search for salvation from the fog. Pleasure clouded his head, and he spread his legs even wider, spearing her on his cock, aware that he’d feel guilty later for using her like this, allowing himself to lose his damn mind in the meantime. His weight and hands held her in place, and his hips moved as though they belonged to a demon.
He felt himself getting close to that blissful release, felt himself grow even harder. Her cries fell into his palm and told him that she could tell he was close. He pressed the side of his face into hers, meshing his body as close to her as physically possible, feeling the muscles of his abdomen burn as he thrust himself as deeply as possible into her.
Oh fuck, he was close.
Oh fuck, he was close.
Oh fuck, he was—there.
He groaned, feeling his testicles spasm, feeling the fiery come move through him, and spoke the words that ached to be released from his throat once again, bookending their bestial coupling:
“Baby, I love you.”
He groaned again, his cock pulsing, her body writhing beneath him. “Baby, I love you,” he repeated, his movements no longer smooth, but stiff and feral.
He removed his hand from her mouth, and she picked up seamlessly. “Fuck Harvey,” she moaned, “it feels so good when you come in me.”
Perhaps it was the fog, but he could swear her pussy grabbed him, milking him as though his body couldn’t be trusted to empty itself fully. It made him groan again, made him twitch again inside her, and drew a stream of nonsense from his mouth.
Slowly the fire in his cock cooled, and his movements eased. His mind felt numb—like it existed somewhere between unconsciousness and unwillingness. All he could process was a great relief, like a tremendous burden had been lifted from his body after monumental effort. He wasn’t sure if he had ever felt so relaxed, so removed from the expectations he never even realized he was perpetually saddled with. This…this was bliss. This was a gift—a gift of pure, unfettered release from the crushing weight of responsibility.
Then he felt her wriggle beneath him, and all the consideration he’d set aside at her insistence came rushing back.
He lifted himself off her, feeling air cool the sweat that had collected on his chest and legs. “Sorry. You probably want to…breathe,” he said, a breathy laugh escaping him. Giddiness and relief eased the incessant criticism he usually lobbied against himself.
She laughed with him. “Damn, baby. That was…delightful.”
He readied himself, then slowly extricated his softening cock from her. She gasped as he pulled his length out, and he held the condom in place, intensely relieved, once he fell out of her, to see that it had held during his revelry. He allowed himself to roll onto his side, feeling as though gravity had suddenly gotten more greedy.
She rolled herself to face him, their bodies just inches apart, his comforter absorbing their sweat. He felt her hand meet his cheek, and he closed his eyes, reveling in this tender touch.
“I love you too, Harvey," she said, her eyes shining in the fading light. "So much. So very much.”