The weekend is coming to a close and so is our time together. To finally get to meet and see if 'this' is real, just to turn around and have to let it go. The push and pull of it all, is so bittersweet.
I let the cold water of the shower wash over me as I lean my forehead against the cool marble. I run my hands over my breast, down my stomach, and helping the cold water find my sex. I am sore, bruised and still as wound up (if not more than) as when I arrived.
I shut the water off and step out of the shower and walk over to the vanity. Last night comes rushing back: the wax, the strap-on, him inside me against the wall with my legs wrapped around him, and me bent over this vanity with him taking me from behind- watching in the reflection.
It was worth the wait to have him inside me. So achingly good to feel that first push of him, as he stood that the edge of the bed, me laying across it, with my ankles held at this chest, he never broke eye contact as he pushed every throbbing inch of himself into me. My body clenches and pulls just thinking about it.
I towel off and wrap my short silk robe around me to cut some of the chill from the temperature shift of the master suite. He is in bed still sleeping, tangled up in the sheets. I will miss this view- the man I adore with this powerful city as a backdrop.
I quietly make my way over to the bed. At the foot of it, I lift the sheet and begin to slowly crawl up over his body, letting my soft kisses graze his skin. I gently bite at his inner thighs, hearing him stir from his dream. Before he is fully awake, I take him into my mouth- wrapping him with warmth and wetness. I hear him groan in pleasure as he realizes what I am doing and feels me begin to suck.
I can't find the words to describe how much I love the feeling of him go from soft to hard in my mouth. I feel powerful with this tall, strong man, lost in sensation and need. He grabs my long. blonde, hair, and starts pushing and guiding the pace. I stop sucking and look up at him. My eyes, smiling, he looks at me desperate and pleading for me to continue, still trying to push and pull at me to begin again. I ignore his physical requests and slowly, so, so slowly, slide my mouth down over his shaft again, but stopping the moment he tries to control the pace.
Frustrated he pulls me off of him, his hand still grabbing by the hair, and gets up from the bed. He pulls me off the bed, my hands and knees hitting the floor. And he pulls my head up to look at him. He says nothing, but his free hand wrapped around his cock, tells me exactly what he is thinking. He pulls back my head so far that I have to open my mouth. He brings the tip of himself to my lips and rubs all of the pre-cum leaking across my mouth.
My nipples are so hard, and the robe is no longer leaving anything to the imagination.
With his hand still rubbing his cock over my lips, he growls, "I am going to let go of your hair, and you are going to stay kneeling, like a good girl, aren't you?"
