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“Then no more of that for you. It’s not time.” I slipped off the edge of the table but left one leg propped on the chair and tugged him toward me by his cock. “First, I punish you, then you get to come.”
“Fine, whatever you say.” His eyes at half-mast, the tiniest smile on his face, Chris wrapped his arms around my neck, as if he’d given himself over completely to whatever pain/ pleasure I might dole out. The sight of his surrender left me weak-kneed and achy.
“Move a little closer,” I whispered, giving another gentle tug.
He did as I instructed and I started a slow rhythmic pumping with one hand. We ended up forehead to forehead, whispering soft lover-talk to each other: Do you like that…Harder…Can I touch you…Spank me. A request I was happy to fulfill, smacking one plump muscular cheek while I continued to jack him off. I forced my eyes to stay open, forced myself to breathe, to stay in control despite my own growing need.
We stood there, our breaths mingled, the musky perfume of sex mixed with peaches and cinnamon and brandy. Chris’s long dark eyelashes fanned out under his eyes, his breath came in short huffs as he demanded I go faster, demanded I spank him again. Of course, that’s when I didn’t. Never mind that my pussy had grown slicker and wetter every time my hand connected with his bottom, so wet in fact, the tops of my thighs were damp.
I didn’t change a thing, not the speed of my hand on his cock, nothing, until he reached the point where he was begging. Begging for faster, begging to be spanked. All his earlier playfulness was now long gone.
“Relax,” I instructed as I fought the urge to give him what he wanted. Me.
“I can’t…I wanna come so bad.” His face was tight, his teeth gritted together and his body hummed with tension.
“Not yet, okay. Now relax or it’ll hurt more when I spank you. I don’t want to hurt you, querido.”
“I know you don’t, but if I relax, I’ll come,” he insisted.
The hand wrapped around his cock sped up. “Relax,” I hissed. “Breathe, Chris…breathe.” Under my other hand his right cheek muscle softened the tiniest bit and I smacked him again just as I released my grip on him, and he found himself thrusting into air.
“God!” He reared back, every muscle in his body tense as he sucked in a deep breath and fought for control. “Dammit, Fiona!”
“Touch me, lover.” I lightly fondled every inch of his erection with my fingertips. The head of his cock was nearly purple and the shaft swollen to delicious proportions.
His large, gentle hands wandered from my hair to skim the length of my back and caress the soft underside of my breasts, my shoulders, my arms, and my legs spread wide between us. Goose bumps popped up on my skin, and I hummed in pleasure as my nipples puckered even harder.
We kissed, wet, sloppy, breathless kisses until Chris came up for air, nipping at my earlobe and begging to fuck me.
I lay back on the table, closed my eyes, and handed him the reins, smiling as he jerked my bottom to the edge and thrust inside me with a rude grunt of satisfaction. I caught my breath at the sudden sharp invasion, then locked my legs around his waist and met every hard, hungry thrust. He’d definitely been more than worth the wait.
“You’re a…damned…tease…Fiona…” he insisted with each lunge.
“And you love it. Now c’mere.” I held out my arms and reveled in the hot, heavy length of him in me. Then slipped one hand between us. There was no way I could catch up with Chris, who was already beginning to climax, but I followed quickly, squealing and bucking against him and milking us both for all we were worth.
We lay there the longest time. Until the air-conditioned air cooled the sweat on his back and our heavy breathing had returned to normal.
Chris’s legs shook as he slowly pushed himself up on one elbow. “So what about Tennessee. Did you decide?”
I smiled but before I could answer, the oven timer went off.
The Salsa Connection
Anna Black
She moans beneath him as the rhythm of his hips matches the tempo of the music. Each thrust of his cock into her cunt goes deeper and deeper, like the steady beat of the timbales. Sweat coats his skin and hers, the bed creaks beneath them, a breeze, redolent with the smell of the ocean and of mariposa lily and the intoxicating sounds of the salsa band playing beneath their open window sweeps across their frenzied bodies. His hands grip her wrists, holding her firmly against the mattress, his lips sear her throat, his teeth nip at her skin. She feverishly rubs her breasts against his chest, the black, curly hairs strafing her throbbing nipples.
His moans echo hers and he punctuates them with fiercely whispered words in Spanish that she does not understand but the meaning is as clear as his pelvis grinding against her, his cock pulsating within her, his body possessing hers.
“Pay attention, Gloria.”
Startled out of her daydream by Eduardo’s words, Gloria twisted her ankle as she tried to turn where he was guiding her. She stumbled and was slipping toward the hardwood floor of the dance studio.
Eduardo quickly grabbed her, his arm snaking around her waist. She looked up at him. His dark eyes glittered with annoyance, his firm, sensual lips twisted with irritation.
“I’m wondering whether you and I are wasting our time.”
She squirmed away from him. “Wasting our time? Haven’t I been coming here every week for the past month?”
