The Visit
She looked at the contract in front of her and read it. She curved her lips inward and licked them as she read the final line: "the undersigned party thus relinquishes full sexual control over to the primary party of this contract."
She looked up to her right as she felt the gentle touch of a massive hand on her lower back. As he looked down on her with warm, brown eyes, she felt herself gravitate towards the canopy of his broad shoulders. She had become accustomed to the feel of his hand on her back as he'd taken her shopping, but it was the smell and size of him that she seemed to get lost in each time he got close.
They had talked about the former as she'd tried on a little black dress. "You just smell... clean," she'd said. "Like, just so fresh and sweet. I don't know." She punctuated the latter statement with a nervous giggle. His eyes twinkled and never left her as she twirled in the dress. He'd chuckled and smiled in response; the sharp lines of his jaw and a heartwarming set of dimples illuminating his face as he did.
She had laughed when he'd said it was probably his cologne, but as she edged closer to his chest, the top of her head barely reaching his chest, she knew there was something else to it. There was something naturally sweet and clean about him that betrayed the great breadth of his dimensions.
She had thought he was just tall from his photos, but there was a commanding presence to his wide shoulders and steel-like posture. He had often joked that he needed to go through doors sideways when they'd talked over the phone, and a part of her hadn't believed it until she saw how he had to maneuver his melon-sized biceps through doorways. It was this wide presence that made her feel like she could lean on him, and that he'd just catch her by being there. That was how she felt now under his arms.
She looked up into his warm eyes, smiling shyly.
He cocked an eyebrow and smiled his welcoming, bright, white smile. "So?" he said.
She sighed comfortably; her head securely nestled in the center of his chest. "Do you have a pen?"
Her eyes barely left his body as she curved her signature onto the white paper. With one hand, he put the contract into his desk drawer while gently grabbed her arm with the other and led her to the edge of his bed. He sat down; his long legs spread invitingly before her. She fought the urge to squeeze at the vastness of his muscular thighs beneath his jeans. Instead, she settled onto her knees before him. She placed her hands above her waist, feeling warm as her body moistened in anticipation.
"Unbuckle me," he commanded. His eyes had changed from the moment he'd sat down. The sudden shift almost scared her until she recognized that warmth she'd felt all day with him hidden behind an overwhelming, lustful gaze. Under that gaze, her hesitation slipped away as she unclasped his belt buckle. Whatever fear she'd felt before had been replaced with an undeniable urge to please him. Throughout the day, she'd felt her heart leap as he made her feel like the only thing that mattered in the world. Now, she felt it beat throughout her body as she became the ultimate instrument of his pleasure. Each command ascertained her submission and sexual servility. As she pulled away his jeans and his bright, red boxers, she saw his veiny, uncut manhood stand tall, waiting to be played with.
He reached out, gripping the whole of her hair into his fist, and held it up. He didn't pull, and she gasped at both the sudden tightness and his ability to be so gentle yet so firm. She whimpered, looking up from his cock to his face. His statuesque jaw was a block of strength as she saw the edge of his mouth turn upwards. Any longer and she would have begged to pleasure him.
"Grab the shaft with the top of your grip just below the crown and pull down gently," he said.