Fed But Not Sated

You're early. I'm just out of the shower, hair still wet, barefoot. I haven't even had time to button my shirt when you knock on my door, the linen clinging to my still-wet back. Things aren't ready, dinner's still cooking, I haven't set the table. I wanted everything to be just so.

I open the door and you're there, blinding and inviting at once. Jet hair that shines so darkly, blue-black against the streetlight outside. A short, loose skirt stops just where the muscles of your thigh begin to taper towards your knee. A shirt of dark satin, gossamer, so thin that I imagine I can see your breasts even though the fabric is opaque. Already, I feel a rush of blood downward and my fingertips warm.

I've barely opened to mouth to say hello when you step inside quickly, closing the door behind you with one arm. I step back, surprised and that shot of warmth into my groin spreads. You reach out one index finger, slowly but not tentatively, lift a bead of water from the hair on my chest, touching me so lightly I can't be sure you touched me at all. I turn my head, disoriented by desire, checking on the neatness of the room behind me. I'm already losing control. The candles glint in the ruby pools of the wine glasses. I turn back to you and open my mouth slightly, suddenly feeling as if my breath cannot come deeply enough.

Your finger, hovering on the thin gauze of hair, traces downward, never actually touching the skin, until it comes to rest in the open groove of the fly of my jeans. I've forgotten to button the top button and your fingertip is nestled in the "v" of the open waist, a fingernail bending the top of the waistband of my boxers. Another surge of warmth and a tingle in my cheeks. I won't hold out much longer.

You look up from your finger to meet my eyes and there's a smile peeking at the corners of your mouth. I swallow and watch the progress of your other hand as it lifts toward my face and disappears around my head, tangling your fingers into my hair. You bring my head down to yours and kiss me deeply without preamble, no testing pecks or coy brushes. Your tongue presses into my mouth and I moan quietly and involuntarily. I feel the tip of your finger slide into the waistband of my boxers and trace a light back-and-forth path. The dam breaks.

I clasp you to me, mouth searching, and your arms encircle me, the satin of your blouse maddeningly smooth against my stomach. Tongue darting, circling, lips pressing, I find your ear, the hollow of your throat, your temple. Already, your hand is sliding into my boxers and a fingernail brushes the tip of my cock. I grasp your wrist and stop you. My knees are shaking but this is my show now.

I twist the arm behind your back, pressing it tightly to the small of your back. You arch your neck and inhale sharply. I look into your eyes for a second, holding them, before returning my mouth to your skin. My other hand works the buttons of your shirt as your arm continues to grip my back tightly, the other still held firmly behind you. I open your shirt and unclasp your bra with my free hand and push them both off until the dangle in a clump from the wrist I've pinioned to your back.

Your nipples contract and you lean forward until the fine hair that paves a path from my chest to my crotch whispers over your nipples. Now you express moans over which you have no control. The zipper of your skirt falls to my dexterity as well and before you even realize it, you are wearing only your panties, your skirt an untidy heap at your ankles.

Releasing your wrist, I turn you around and, leaning my body into yours, pressing the bulge now straining at the fly of my jeans into the curve of your buttocks, my weight pushes you slowly, inexorably, into the wall. Your breath is coming as quickly as mine now and you lift your ass slightly as your palms press flat against the wall, your will no longer your own.

I jerk your panties down and lift your feet to free your legs of their feathery weight. You are gloriously nude now and I pause to admire you, the shallow furrow of your spine, the swell of your hips. You start to turn your face to look over your shoulder at me but I stop it with a firm hand on your cheek.

"No." It's the first I've spoken, the first word uttered by either of us. "Don't look. Just listen."

I pull the tab of my zipper down excruciatingly slow, so that each tooth announces its freedom. I whip off my light shirt and return to my jeans. As I lean forward to draw them off my legs, my face is brought within an inch of your ass, my nose at the cleft where your thighs begin to join again into that beautiful delta. I can smell your arousal now and I shudder again.

Boxers follow jeans and I'm on you again, mouth exploring your neck, my hands covering yours on the wall. I bend my knees and push my hips forward. When I stand again, my cock enters you in one quick, unexpected motion. You gasp and lift onto your toes then sink back and your ass circles, tiny orbits around my shaft. I pull out until the just tip is inside you. I pause and you groan and your husky moan is like a tide of hot water over my body. I press forward again, arching my back, sinking into you.

With undulations of my hips, I begin moving in and out of you, my pelvis rocking in a wave and I almost stop in amazement at the sheer wonder of your back, now dewy with sweat, the luxurious blanket of ebony hair that flows down it.

I lean back and grasp your hips. Our cries mingle now and become more animal with each stroke. I'm moving faster, my thighs burning, my hands traveling over your back and hips and ass. You press back to meet each stroke and I can feel you grip me, a silky vise that envelops me. I feel your flutter and you gasp and your fingernails scrabble against the wall, your body shaking with climax.

Your moans through clenched teeth spark a familiar tingle deep inside my groin. A quicksilver stream of fire races up my spine and down my legs and my thighs clench, my hands squeezing the velvet soft flesh of your hips and my mouth opens and cry out your name in a choked tone, pleasure strangling me, I push into you, deeper, my eyes squeeze shut, and I come and come and come.

The waves of terrible ecstasy finally fade and my head drops forward. I can hear you breathing heavily and desire screams at my flesh to awaken again. Dinner can wait.