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He smiled warmly. “Good,” he replied as though I’d passed some exam.
I don’t know how things changed from there. We were awkwardly drinking coffee one minute talking about a lot of nonsense neither us was really listening to—I think we were communicating with bodies and the backs of our minds where a more honest conversation was taking place—and then suddenly, we were on the bed, stripping clothes away and becoming close, closer than we’d been. We kissed. We weren’t just ass to groin or ass to hand, but face to face and cock to crotch. My wanting was immeasurable, a seeking sort of desire that poured out on him. I was so ravenous I should have been self-conscious, but I don’t think men worry about a woman’s passion in the middle of sex. KC certainly had no problem with my unrestrained behavior.
Regardless of my own eagerness, KC was definitely in charge, exactly as I wanted him to be. He kissed me first before I kissed back. He struggled with my clothes before I searched to find his skin. He clutched my mound before I laid a finger on his cock. When I did find that hefty meat, my curiosity drove me down to explore it with my mouth and inspect it with my tongue. I drank its richness, tasted it potent salty, sweaty state, while my nostrils breathed the essence of KC inside my lungs.
Maneuvering my bottom end with his hands, he had me straddle his face while I worked his prick with my mouth. He teased my snatch with his tongue poking me so I was shrieking and everything in me spasmed. Still, he did nothing but play his heartlessly sweet game of cat and mouse with my anxious pussy. As his stalk grew proud and the head became engorged with blood, my insides seemed to cry aloud. Still, he kept me titillated feeling as though I’d die without that cock’s first strike.
When he finally pushed me around and we were mouth to mouth again, we locked so tightly in our embrace that I could hardly move. But I felt him firm between my thighs. He lay on top thrusting as my head fell back and my breasts arched to meet his lips, and I came, shuddering slowly. His ejaculation followed closely afterwards. Yes, this was like coming home, like finding who I am again.
KC’s apartment has the most amazing ceiling filled with a dozen theatre lights in the unusually high rafters. By daylight, there’s not much to see, not as lovers after sex lying side by side in a sunny room.
“What’s it like here at night?” I asked, fixated on the possibilities those lights suggested.
“You’ll see for yourself soon enough,” he answered
“Oh, that must mean I’m coming back,” I said happily.
“I thought we had that figured out,” he snapped at my remark as though he was annoyed I’d even asked.
I pulled up on one elbow so I could look at his face. “KC this is all really weird. I don’t do things like this and I’m not used to any man, let alone someone like you.”
“I didn’t start it, Gail,” he reminded me. I fell back against the sheets. Suddenly KC was on top of me, taking my hands in his and pinning them above my head. My crotch went off again, wanting him. As he bent down to kiss me, I don’t remember, ever, knowing such tenderness. I was breathing hard, feeling as though he’d sucked me into him, looking him in the eye and being scared.
“Tell me, Gail, who started this with you?” he asked.
“Who?”
“Who was the first man who spanked you?”
The question gave me instant shivers, tremors I’m sure he could feel with his groin locked tightly on mine. “That was a long time ago.”
“Tell me about him,” he insisted.
“I’d rather not say.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s in my past.”
“As though the past doesn’t live inside you?”
I felt as though I was on the edge of a razor ready to slip. “Why’s it so important?” I wondered as my fear increased and my breathing
grew more labored.
“Because I asked.”
Because he asked, I repeated to myself. After such nurturing, loving tenderness, he was tugging at me; pulling, tearing, wrenching me away with him back in time.
“You want to walk out on my questions?” he asked.
“No, I don’t want to walk out.”
“Then answer me,” he smiled rather charmingly, like a handsome pirate, “Besides, you’re in no position to bargain.” I should have figured that, flat on my back, his body bearing down on me, weight, strength, animal intent overpowering me. Finally, knowing he had me conquered, he rolled away. And moving off the bed, he took a chair beside me, saying with the same enchanting smirk, “Talk, Gail. Just spit it out.”
“I don’t know what to say.” I tried. I really tried, but the words forming inside my mouth seemed stuck, destined to remain garbled and crowded behind a locked door.
Seeing me hesitate KC talked instead, “I thought we had this handled. That we had decided what you want. I give orders, you obey,” he made his case calmly and I knew I’d already lost. “You want to argue with that, we’ll try the belt—it’s wide and leather and very effective. Or maybe a cane would get you talking?”
