Finishing What You Started

This is my first attempt at a story, and I would appreciate any feedback. This story builds gradually but becomes quite intense, with some violent cocksucking. It was inspired by my friend, Refresher_bar.

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You first noticed him on that afternoon as you glanced over your shoulder in the park. You had been walking with a bounce in your step and enjoying the bathing warmth of the sun on your bare shoulders. In celebration of the spring weather, you were wearing your favorite sundress--bright yellow against your golden skin and dark hair. Its cut flattered your high, softly-rounded breasts; the swish of the knee-length skirt kept offering enticing glimpses of your athletic legs to all the other park-goers.

He seemed to be watching you as he leaned nonchalantly against that tree. You raised your hand to shield the sunshine from your eyes as you turned to look back across the pond you'd been circling, and his obscured figure captivated you. The branches of the tree shifted continually in the March breeze and cast shadows around him in various patterns. He wore dark pants and a shirt in Oxford blue. You couldn't quite make out much of his olive-toned face, but you saw the gleam of his eyes, and you noticed how quickly they returned to his newspaper as your head came around. You knew he had been watching you; you knew he wanted you. As you followed the path along the pond's edge, you turned twice more only to see the same response in the distance: your turn, a flash of his eyes, a dramatic shake of the newspaper. Each repetition brought a thrill to your breast and a rush to your pulse.

You arrived at the park gate sooner than you expected and you turned back one more time, half-hoping to see him following you. You were disappointed to see he had disappeared altogether, and you briefly wondered whether you had merely imagined him. As you turned out of the park and down the street toward your home, you let your mind wander and indulged your fantasies. In your mind's eye, you saw him staring at you across a dinner table and sitting quietly as you removed your black heel and ran your foot up his thigh to his hardening dick. You saw him grabbing you, pressing you against the wall of an alley, and running his hands down to your panties to find them drenched in your arousal. You saw him bending you over your living room sofa to inspect the glistening lips of your pussy and to take in that intoxicating scent.

Lost in your thoughts, you find yourself on your doorstep. You pause to search your shoulder bag for your key, and you suddenly feel a pair of strong heavy hands on your upper arms. You are momentarily frightened, but a blend of excitement and arousal holds you in place. "Don't turn around yet," you hear. He stands close enough that the warmth of his breath cuts through the breeze and tickles the back of your neck. Your wispy hairs stand up on end and send a shiver down your spine as you listen. "I know you saw me. I couldn't resist following you, and I can't let you walk into that building without me. I need you." As the music of his voice echoes in your ears, you unconsciously lean back against his hands and relax until you feel your upper back pressed into his chest. "Do you want me to come in?" he asks. Your slow nod leaves no doubt.

You unlock the front door and enter. As you walk up the stairs, you cross your arms across your chest. You cover his hands with yours and ensure that they do not leave your body. Arriving at the landing, you lead him into your living room and turn him around in front of you. Your fantasies haven't betrayed you this time; he is exactly what you thought he was. You push him insistently down on the couch and look up into his brown eyes as you kneel before him. Your hands grasp his knees and push them apart before slowly caressing along the seams of both legs. When your hands reach his crotch, he inhales quickly and gives an involuntary jump before releasing his breath in a deep sigh.

You continue upward and run your fingers teasingly over the bulge you feel through the material of his black pants. You lower the zipper; you open the pant flap wide to reveal a pair of white boxers. You bring your nose down to them, inhaling his scent as you nuzzle and nibble playfully. You reach up to his waistband, he raises his hips off of the sofa's surface, and you pull pants and boxers together until they rest in a heap around his feet.

You examine his dick and see an instrument of average size but of great beauty: 6.5" of light brown flesh, crowned with a pearl of precum. You grasp it by the base and move it about, peeking from one side to the other and feeling the soft burning skin of his shaft. As you look, you feel his left hand rise up to the back of your head and grasp your hair in a determined hold. A small tug turns your head upward and at an angle toward his face. A sense of mild apprehension comes over you, but the passion of his look reassures you. He grips the base of his cock with his right hand and points his cockhead toward your curved lips. Before you know it, you are parting your lips slightly as he smears his precum over them, the slightly-sweet taste meeting your tongue.

You extend your tongue as he manipulates your mouth up and down the outside of his shaft. You open your mouth to take the expanding cockhead in and stimulate it with the rapid flicks and slow circling motions of your tongue. He begins to control your head more aggressively, driving his dick deeper and deeper into your welcoming mouth. With each stroke, your saliva coats more and more of his shaft until his cock begins to tickle the back of your throat. When he meets resistance, he holds your head in place, groaning as you drool uncontrollably down onto his balls.

He removes his dick from your mouth, stands up from the couch, and unbuttons his shirt. You sit back on your heels and pull your dress up and over your head, casting it aside. Your eyes meet his as you reach behind your back and unclasp your bra. You watch his eyes widen as you lean forward, shake the straps off your shoulders, and throw the bra alongside your dress. He steps up to you again and grasps you by the hair once more. He yanks your head back a little more forcefully now, the intensity of his gaze threatening to bore into your skull, before he thrusts your compliant mouth back onto his cock. The head tickles the back of your throat as he holds you in place for a second and he pulls your nose forward into the short hairs above his shaft. Your eyes water, and the trickle from your tear ducts joins the saliva that by now extends in streams from your mouth to his balls. He finds a rhythm, and the sound of cock hitting the back of your gullet echoes against the bare walls. He pauses after every few strokes to push the tip of his dick past the curvature of your throat and to watch you gag. Your shoulders roll forward as your throat spasms to expel the invading organ.

Your hair begins to catch in clumps against your tear-soaked cheeks and saliva-laden chin. Your eyes fill and your vision blurs. You keep raising your hands in a protective instinct, but he casts them violently to the side. Finding them idle, you can't help but work them down to your rapidly warming cunt. "Hands off, slut!" he instructs you, "That pussy is mine, not yours." In response, you open the lips of your mouth widely enough to moan and whimper around his flesh, and you lock your hands behind your back. You rock back and forth on your hips in rhythm to his thrusts, hoping to steal some contact for your aching clit, either from your thighs or from the floor below them.

You give yourself to his cock with abandon, closing your eyes and becoming hyperaware of every nerve in your body. On occasion, your rocking brings the flesh above your pussy enough pressure to promise pleasure, as you draw your thighs together and contract the muscles of your pelvis, but you are mostly aware of the absence of direct contact. The slow trickle from your cunt adds itself to the many fluids collecting on the surface of your body. You feel that something is frustratingly lacking. You need a finger, a dick, a tongue, fuck it... a spatula, anything to get your bunch of nerves the stimulation they need.

He pauses a second to slap your wet cheek gently and to command you to open your eyes. "Look at my face," he groans, "and watch what you're doing to me." You struggle to keep your eyes fixed on him as he closes his own and throws his head back. You feel his shaft moving against the inside of your mouth as his hips and knees begin to lose strength. You recognize the tell-tale signs and you redouble the vigor of your efforts, adding a regular groan that sends waves of pleasure to his sensitive cockhead.

You lunge forward and back on the throbbing pipe of flesh, feeling it twitching more and more violently in response. While maintaining your devoted attention to him, you shift your concentration to the center of your body, where you contract and release the muscles lining your pussy, transforming yourself into a gasping, gagging, stuttering mess. He opens his eyes again and presses his hands hard into your shoulders before nodding to you in warning. His impending explosion sends a thrill to your nether parts as the heat in your cunt crests. You begin to moan in climax just as the first taste of his cum coats your tongue and as his hips spasm forward uncontrollably. Contractions in your abdomen and thighs contort your body, and you do all you can to keep your head high, your mouth open to his advancing cock and the spurts of seed that coat your hungry lips. As his orgasm fades, he leans forward, keeping his balance by placing both hands on your shoulders. Doing so, he feels the last few shivers of your pleasure-wracked body.

You look up to him, and your glazed eyes meet his. You absent-mindedly allow his cum to follow the rivulets of saliva down your chin, to cascade down the contours of your chest, and to settle in the crease formed at the junction of your legs and abdomen. Catching your breath, you ask: "Same time tomorrow?"

"That'll do," he responds, "that'll do just fine."