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He slid off the bed and headed for the door.
“Hey! Your feet!” I protested.
He flicked the door lock closed. “They’re fine. Truth-telling with you turns me on. My endorphins just shot through the roof. I’m feeling no pain.” He whipped off his sweatshirt as he walked toward the bed. Dropped the pajama pants.
He was naked beneath them. His long, thick cock stood up, magnificently erect. He stood there waiting, gripping his cock, stroking it. “Your move, Red,” he said.
I slid off the bed, tossed off the soft nightgown that Angela had left, and dropped my underwear. I was stark naked, in a locked room with my fantasy man, all hot, bothered and breathless, having made vague, extravagant promises about sexual pleasure that I didn’t necessarily know how to fulfill. That was Cass Clarke for you. Always stumbling around, way outside her comfort zone.
But that was just fine. It wasn’t comfort that I wanted tonight.
My move, he’d said. Well, then. I put my hands on his chest, stroking him. What was it Angela said? Steel cables wrapped around bent rebar. But something more. My fingers dug in, stroking, exploring his heat and power and vitality. He pulsed with it.
His hands covered mine, and moved them down, over his belly, lower. He wrapped my hands around his thick, hot cock, clasping over mine. Squeezing, moving on his stiff shaft. My thighs squeezed and trembled. I was already wet. Hot. Breathless.
The impulse just came over me. I sank down onto the discarded nightgown, gripping his cock in both hands, and took him into my mouth.
I was too excited to worry about my lack of technique. I was so turned on as I played with his gorgeous cock, and it made all the difference in how much fun it was. I felt hot and sinuous and uninhibited, licking him, swirling my tongue around his cockhead, memorizing every different surface and texture. Smooth and taut, velvety, suede, throbbing, hot, salty, musky, yearning.
I pumped my hands up and down his shaft, licking the pre-come that gleamed on the tip. Slippery, salt-sweet perfection. The sounds he made were encouraging. Breathless, gasping moans, choked off to not make too much noise. His hands, winding into my hair, guiding me. He was shaking with eagerness.
I took his cock even deeper into my mouth than I ever knew I could. Clutching his rock-hard ass cheeks as he thrust deep, stroking him with my lips and tongue.
He let me set the pace and the depth, fucking my mouth in a slow, pumping, sensual rhythm, his hands tightening… and he stopped, pulling away.
I murmured in protest, but he held me still, his body rigid, his gleaming cock pulsing in my clutching hands.
I leaned back, wiping my mouth, gasping for breath. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He grabbed me under my arms, lifting me effortlessly to my feet, and tumbling me onto my back on the bed. “I just want to fuck you. Right now.”
And suddenly, he was on top of me. He was so big and hot, and I ached with need, splayed out beneath him onto the bed. I shivered at the slow touch of his fingers over my mound, teasing my pussy slit, and he murmured in approval at what he found there. Slick and wet and gasping at every caress.
“Wow,” he murmured.
“Yeah,” I said. “I know. You drive me nuts.”
He settled on his knees between my splayed legs, bracing my feet against his broad, hard chest, and set himself to pet and explore, stroking my tits, my belly, then my pussy, with a rasping groan of appreciation. “Damn,” he said. “So beautiful.” He gripped his cock and stroked me with the tip, sliding it over all the slick, tender bits, concentrating on my clit, around and around… and it felt so good. I lifted myself against him helplessly. “Please,” I gasped out.
“You want more?”
“Yes. Yes. Please.”
But instead of pushing inside me, he slid down my body and put his head between my legs. I jerked up onto my elbows, startled. “Hey!”
“I want to taste you,” he said, between skillful circling swirls of his tongue and his caressing finger. “You have to come before I fuck you.”
“I have to? You have strict rules for this kind of thing, then?”
“Special rules. Just for you. I’m making them up as I go along.”
It felt so shockingly good. It terrified me, to feel it all like that. Everything so sharp and distinct and urgent. Shane’s clever, lashing tongue thrust and swirled, flicking and circling… then a slow, seductive, suckling pull… and the wave broke over me.
It crashed around me, through me, a chaotic, pulsing churn of utter bliss.
When I opened my eyes, I was shivering. Still damp with sweat, still panting. Shane had repositioned himself, and was nudging his cockhead between my pussy lips, pressing delicately. Rocking against the opening, without pushing inside.
“Ready now?” he asked.
