Page 64 of Free Fall

He looked so damn gorgeous, with his brows scrunched in concentration, his hair falling loose over his cheeks. I needed him. Not just here, in this moment, but everywhere. Every part of my life, my body, my mind.

With my pussy now bare to him, his fingers found my clit as he used his other hand to free me of my vest and sports bra. It was undignified, messy, but it was urgent, freeing. I unbuckled his jeans and started shoving them down for him when he stood, got himself naked, and sank back down.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “This floor’s cold.”

“Try having your whole body pressed up against it,” I retorted, and he flashed me a look before twisting us again, settling on his back with my legs straddling him, my pussy landing on his warm skin. I flinched at the chill on my knees, and he winced. The hair above his dick tickled my already sensitive clit, and I writhed my hips, humping him just above the root of his cock, making his shaft run down my pussy and toward my ass. He was still pierced, the barbell was cooler than his skin as it rubbed on me.

“Shit, Zel, that’s amazing,” he groaned, his eyebrows drawing in as his hands landed on my waist. He stilled me. “But you’re right. It’s too fucking cold.” With impressive skill and strength, I was moving, scooped and hoisted into the air as he stood, one arm wrapped around my thighs and the other at my back to hold me to him. “To the mats!”

I laughed my ass off as he charged butt-naked across the room, his feet slapping on the wood as I burrowed my head into his neck. The windows didn’t have curtains, and his receptionist, or whoever that grumpy man was, was probably still here. As ever, Luca made me forget to care. It was always a thrill with him.

As we landed on the stacked mats, used for safety catches and first time climbers, he threw me further up onto them before crawling down my body, laying little kisses over my skin.

Kneeling, he ran his fingers over every inch of my pussy, dipping down to my ass, too, touching everywhere like he was reminding himself, cataloging the changes. He roamed, brushing over my clit, running through my labia and teasing my hole. He was watching his movements, concentrating, licking his lips. I cried out when he ducked down.

The first touch of his tongue against my sensitive skin had my thighs shaking. It had been so damn long. I felt myself gush fluid, and he moaned without care, lapping it up, pushing it back up into me with his tongue.

“Fuck me, Luca,” I begged. “I need you inside me, please.”

“Patience, puppet,” he said from between my legs, biting down on my clit, running his tongue along the section caught in his teeth. I made a sound halfway between a shout and a moan, throwing my fist to my mouth to stifle it. My voice echoed around the cavernous room, anyway, bouncing around before dissipating.

“Please.” I ground my pussy on his face, squeezing him with my thighs to get what I needed. Which was more. More of him. Of everything.

He laughed as he moved away from me, grinning when I whined and tried to pull him back. What the hell was it about this man?

His cock was rock hard as he stood to full height, pulling and tugging me into a new position so my head was hanging off the edge of the mats. It put my face about thigh height with him, and as I looked up, it was with the impressive view of his cock right above me, the barbell through his head shiny.

“You want me inside you?” he asked.

“Yes!” I’d take anything at this point. And his cock dangling next to my upturned face had me salivating. I didn’t wait for the instruction I knew was coming, I opened my mouth and thrust out my tongue.

He stuck his thumb in first, running it along my tongue and palate as though he was sampling. “Good puppet,” he told me. “Even now, you’re the perfect puppet.” The blunt tip of his cock pressed against my chin and I sucked it in, rolling my tongue over the head, getting used to the sensation and flavor again. He was hot and full, the skin taut and stretched like he was seconds from exploding down my throat already. I prodded around his piercing with my tongue, moving it and twirling it. He shuddered and took a deep breath when I gave it a little tug with my teeth.

Then he fucked my mouth, my throat. He held me steady, one hand just below my jaw to hold me, the other on my tit, massaging and pulling, playing with the piercings with almost too much roughness.

As I was getting lost in the motions, the movements and stretch of my cheeks, choking and gagging and letting saliva overflow, he pulled out.

“Shit, tell me the safe word,” he said, panting hard. “Tell me you know it.”

“I know it,” I said, reaching for him with my mouth. “Fucking cherry.”

“Tap my thigh if you can’t talk.”

He didn’t say another thing, only pushed his cock to the hilt inside my mouth again, slamming as deep as he could, letting his balls slap against my face. I reached for my clit to massage it, needing to relieve some of the pressure, and his throat rumbled in approval, pinching my nipples, tugging my whole tit up from the pointed tips.

When he let me suck in air, removing his fat cock for just a beat so I could inhale and splutter, my clit pulsed, on the verge of tipping over. I needed to come, to explode and lose my mind with him filling my mouth to the point of pain. I wanted to taste him, to drown in his cum and his body.

We were both so close, so ready to fall over together. I felt it in the tension of his thighs, in how drawn up his balls were. In my belly, my spine, all the way down to my toes. But then he changed the pace, pulling out and climbing onto the mat, settling with his legs on either side of my head.

His mouth latched onto my pussy as his hips plowed down, forcing his dick deeper into my throat again, fucking me hard and fast.

Most of his weight was on me as we licked and sucked each other. I didn’t care, I wanted him to smother me. He roamed with his fingers, scooping my legs up into the crook of his elbows to spread me wider. When he pushed a finger inside my ass, I detonated, screaming around his dick as he refused to relent, still flickering his tongue over my clit as I squirmed and fought him, the sensation an overload.

I was too sensitive; it was too much, but he kept going, holding his cock in my throat, depriving me of oxygen. But it forced a second orgasm from me in immediate succession. It was smaller, almost an ache. My eyes rolled back and my body spasmed, the pleasure near painful as it was wrenched from me without permission. When I thought I was about to black out from lack of air flow or the intensity of the orgasm, I was free, gasping breaths and moaning sighs. Oxygen rushed to my brain and made me even lighter headed.

Luca flipped over, sat his ass up, and moved me to land on top of him. I really did feel like his puppet as he shifted me about, draping my body over his in a straddle, before pushing me down onto his cock inch by delicious inch. My limbs were floppy and well-used. He had me malleable.

My forehead fell to his shoulder as he fucked me on him, lifting me up with his hands under my thighs, up and down. I was so full of him, so sensitive and tingling and spent, but it still felt amazing, being connected to Luca again, joined again. I twisted my head and nuzzled into his neck. He turned and met my lips with his.

---