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I don’t know why I was acting like I owned her, like she was mine, like I was claiming her somehow. But it felt right. It felt like a true thing. I’m making you mine now, I was telling her, just so you know, no other man can ever fuck you like this. You’ll have to be mine or else live with a disappointing imitation who doesn’t get you off. It didn’t matter if it sounded egotistical and crazy. I was both, and sure as hell crazy about her.
So I went for it. I shifted and laid her on the couch, draped her thighs over my shoulders and opened her with my fingers. There before me, every pretty pink whorl and fold was right there. I traced her with one fingertip, top to bottom and in and out of every curve and crease. I murmured praise words, told her how pretty she was, how plump and sweet and wet. My lips brushed her pussy with every word, and she started to tremble against my soft, patient mouth.
Slowly, kissing her inner thigh, the crease of her hip, I made my way closer and closer to her clit, where it waited like a perfect pearl. I closed my puckered lips around it and gave one soft suck, flicked my tongue along the underside and felt her start to shake hard, the moans I dragged from her body loud and pleading. I thrust two long fingers into her sex, deep and questing, my tongue unmerciful on her trembling clit. Her thighs hugged my face, her hands pressing as her hips rose off the couch and bucked into my face, riding me, demanding more and faster and deeper with the extreme arc of her body bowing up off the cushions. Then, like an electrical current ripped through her, Nicole thrashed and screamed as her pussy clenched around my fingers powerfully, wave after wave of tight muscle contractions and her helpless screams filled my senses. Her wetness poured over my hand. I felt the agony of restraint as I bit my lips, held my breath, trying not to come in my pants from the force of her climax. It felt so intimate, so personal that she had given herself to me fully, grinding into my mouth and clinging to me, letting me eat her out until she shrieked high and sharp and long with the pleasure of her orgasm. I felt like a real man, the best I’d ever felt in my life bringing her that kind of ecstasy. Her white-hot bliss was a drug for me, and the intoxicating sound of her screams and scent of her wet sex were enough to get me off.
Then I pecked at her lips, gave her teasing, gentle kisses. I knew she expected me to go hard, to be in a frenzy of lust. I was definitely aroused enough to do it. But I wanted something more decadent with Nicole. The luxury of taking my time and savoring her responsive body, her sweet mouth and filthy mind. So I caressed her, kissed her, and slowly led her to my bedroom. I spread her out on my sheets and moved over her, face to face, my body covering her. Every part of us matched up, my legs over hers, my stomach and chest pressed to hers. I laced our fingers together on either side of her head and kissed her. I felt a surge of romantic feeling, an unexpected wave of affection, of liking her despite the fact that we bickered and basically hated each other most of the time. And it was that affection, that fondness that I communicated to her in every touch and kiss, in the tender way I thrust into her sex, my eyes locked on hers. That gaze didn’t flinch from mine, didn’t hide from the intimacy. She was brave, this woman, and she felt like my match in every way. I rocked into her, never taking my eyes off hers, kissing her off and on, losing myself in the warm clutch of her body that felt so right. In seconds, I could have come, but I held off, wanting to enjoy every minute I was inside of her. It was by force of will that I lasted as long as I did, making sure she was trembling with arousal when I let myself drive into her to the hilt and pour out within her. She clenched around me at the same moment, her eyes fluttered closed, and her lips parted as she cried my name over and over. I kissed her, swallowed her orgasmic cries and rolled onto my side so I could cradle her against my chest. Right where she belonged.
Okay, that was a mistake. I jerked off thinking of Nicole again, and now the fantasies had taken a sharp turn into some kind of long-lost soul mates rom-com territory. This wasn’t a meant-to-be situation. It was a we-could-lose-our-jobs and we had to leave each other alone circumstance. Nothing romantic about it. Too bad I couldn’t convince my body and my imagination of that.
