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Kissing.
It’s a simple physical act, but sometimes it can be so much more. Just like putting down words on a page, or slowly moving a brush over a blank canvas…it can be an art form. How it is expressed really depends on the artist.
And this kiss…
Blake’s mouth fits perfectly on mine like our lips are matching pieces of the same puzzle, and I just close my eyes and surrender to him. His hands are on my waist as he pulls me into him, our bodies pressed tightly as I use my tongue to part his lips and explore his mouth.
He tastes differently from all the other men I’ve kissed; his kiss is brimming with desire, but there’s also a certain softness to it as well. The two blend together into something wonderful and pleasurable. Like two contrasting colors mixed beautifully together to create something new, something unique.
Our tongues dance around one another softly, and I feel myself getting wetter with each passing second. The fabric of my thong is already sticking to my skin, my fluids drenching it as desire takes over me.
I’ve never been a naive woman – I’m a writer, after all –but I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a man this much in my entire life. It’s as if there’s something special about Blake, something that tells me he’s so much more than meets the eye. There’s an aura about him, one that envelops and subjugates me without a word passing between us.
“Katherine,” he says, my name hanging heavy in the air around us. I stare into his eyes, my mouth slightly ajar as my heart starts drumming a wild song of lust and sin.
“Take me,” I find myself saying, the sound of my voice coming out of my lips sweet as honey.
I don’t think I’ve ever been this direct with a man but, with Blake, I just know small talk isn’t necessary. We merely exchange a glance and we already know everything there is to know.
He doesn’t reply –he just smiles, his lips curling into a satisfying grin, and then kisses me again. His hands go around my waist and then down, over the curve of my ass cheeks, and he pulls me into him harshly.
I thrust against him without even thinking, needing to feel my crotch against his; there’s something big there, something long and thick. I can feel it pulsing with a raw hunger that makes my insides clench.
I place one hand on his chest and slowly slide it down his shirt, only stopping when I find the hem of his pants. I feel his leather belt under my fingertips, and I bite my lower lip as I open my hand wide and prepare to go for his crotch.
He responds silently, grabbing my hand and, all the while looking into my eyes, places it over the hard shape pushing back against his pants. I bite harder on my lower lip, realizing that his cock is far bigger than I thought it’d be. I try to curl my fingers around its thick shape, but I can barely hold it with just one hand.
“It’s so…” I start to say, lowering my voice until it becomes just a whisper, but I don’t know how to finish my sentence. It’s so what? Big, huge, enormous? For a writer, I’m suddenly at a loss for words. He’s all that and some more, and I can’t wait toreallyfeel it.
My heart is beating so fast now that I can barely think straight, but my unconscious mind is still working; letting go of his cock, I go for his belt and unbuckle it. Then, taking a deep breath to steady my hands, I undo the top button on his pants and pull the zipper down.
His cock is making an impressive tent in his boxer briefs, and I can’t help but look at it. With one finger, I trace its contour, going from its root to the tip. Oh, Jesus, he’sreallybig.
I grit my teeth and, moving fast, slide my hand under his boxer briefs and, turning my wrist, I grab his thick shaft. The warmth of his cock spreads to the palm of my hand, and that’s all it takes for me to become a truly wet mess. It won’t be long before my fluids start dripping down my legs.
“Enjoying yourself?” He asks me, grinning, and the look in his eyes tells me he already knows the answer.
I just nod, running my tongue between my lips. Holding my breath, I start moving my hand up and down, stroking him softly as the hunger in eyes keeps on growing.
“Yes…yes, I am,” I admit, suddenly feeling dizzy as I imagine his thick cock trying to push its way past my pussy lips. Is that even physically possible? How will it feel? I don’t know, but I’m sure as hell willing to find out.
You know, maybe it’ll inspire me. And God knows I need some good inspiration.
“I’m right here,” he says, leaning into me and brushing his lips against my ear. A shiver climbs up my spine as his deep rugged voice caresses my eardrums. I stop stroking him and just tighten my fingers around his shaft, feeling it pulse against the palm of my hand.
With one hand on my waist, he pushes me until my back’s against the wall, and then he takes one hand right to between my thighs. He flattens the palm of his hand against my pussy, bunching up my dress in the process. I gasp as he does it, but then I moan as he takes his hand off and slides it under the hemline of my dress, his fingers finding their way to my drenched thong.
“Fuck, I need to have you,” he says, rubbing his fingers back and forth over the wet fabric, fondling my pussy lips. My muscles tense up under his touch, and it feels like his fingers are made of fire and electricity. There’s something magical to his touch, that’s for sure.
“You seem tight,” he whispers, that grin of his widening until it becomes devilish, “are you tight, Katherine?”
“I…I…” I mutter, but I don’t even know what to tell him.
“Don’t worry, I’ll see that for myself soon enough,” he says, and that image of his cock pushing its way past my drenched folds bubbles up to the surface of my mind once more.
He presses harder on my pussy and I gasp again, my insides clenching with anticipation. Clasping his hand on the fabric, he pulls on it, and I close my eyes as I feel my thong leaving my wet pussy. He pushes it down my legs and, once it falls in a bunch at my feet, I just kick it off.
His hand is back between my thighs in a heartbeat, and this time it’s a moan that leaves my lips, feeling my naked pussy burning at the touch of his fingers.
