Page 36 of Elusive

For less than a thirtieth of a second, I worry, but the thought may somehow “jinx” things, but it’s already formed — seems I just may affect her in mysterious ways as well — ‘cause I’d bet a limb she’s never taken any other man’s boots and socks off, while on her knees, before.

“Don’t get used to this,” she balances the act out with some of her sass. I’d expect nothing less. Actually, might feel ripped-off if I didn’t get all of what makes her… her.

Once she’s stripped me bare, I wordlessly offer her my hand. Unusually silent as well, she takes it, and my help, to rise to her feet. Keeping our eyes locked, lids now draped lazily over what are now my favorite shade of sultry surrender, I run a hand down her stomach.

“Sutton,” she gasps, squirming in place. “Hurry.”

“Ah, Sugar…” I pepper her breasts, throat, and mouth with kisses while working her pants open, “can’t think of too many things I wouldn’t do for you, but hurrying isn’t happening. Not this first time. Not after waiting so damn long to feel you again.” I guide her onto the bed, and her back, slipping off everything but the tiny patch of black lace tucked between those sweet thighs, then move up and over her, staring down at the only woman with power enough to make me stop and stare. “You’re beautiful, Presley.”

“Show me,” she whispers. “Show me that you mean it.”

Her lips are trembling when mine meet them, instantly parting for me. At first, I slowly sample her flavor as if brand new, and yet, setting forth a surge of memories… that left an unexplainable impact. And on its heels, another reminder flashes — I don’t want to lose her again — so I deepen the kiss, putting into it an urgency I pray she can taste. She seamlessly responds, her little noises growing frenzied, tongue wrestling wildly with mine, hands grasping at my head… legs parting for my touch.

“Wanna see,” I rumble more than laugh at her huff of frustration when I pull away from our kiss, rising to my knees. “Never thought I’d get this again, not about to miss a goddamn thing.” Inch-by-gradual-inch, I peel the panties down her legs, my inhale of appreciation whistling through gritted teeth. “Arms over your head.” I push her legs wide apart. “Nothing prettier in the whole world than you, splayed out for me.” Shifting to my stomach, I keep her thighs parted, I glide my tongue up one swollen, wet pussy lip, then back down the other. She bucks, body bowing, so I adjust — using a shoulder to keep one of her legs in place and my free hand on her stomach to pin her down. “I’m all out of hands,” I chuckle. “Know what that means?”

“No, what?” she wisps in fast reply.

“Need your hands. Spread this pussy open for me, Sugar. Want to taste every last inch of you.” Her low moan and quick hands are no surprise; she loves raunchy talk as much as I do. “That’s my girl. Just like that.”

Any man of the foolish disbelief that “all pussy pretty much tastes the same” is a disillusioned, unfortunate bastard who’s yet had the pleasure of tasting the one that doesn’t. Presley’s a unique, heady combination of sweet and spicy — like every damn thing about her — that I can’t get enough of.

And, I know I never will. Instinct, epiphany, whatever it is, I just know; struck by the fact the moment I met her. Almost like… actually, closer to exactly like a biological, chemical, animalistic and primal response. Meant to be beyond one’s control.

And yeah, I’m okay with my somewhat sappy, more so barbaric, musing, ‘cause my tongue’s coated in her… my manhood’s firmly intact.

Speaking of animalistic. “Don’t you move,” I growl the part, hand on her stomach seeking down, down, my finger drug deeper inside by her greedy muscles.

“Yesssssss,” she purrs, hips grinding.

I add another, finger-fucking her while I mouth-fuck her just as good, long licks, slow with sucks of her clit. Before I’ve had even close to enough — could eat her all night — the tell-tale clench, release, and again, around my fingers speeds up. She’sclose, so I let my eyes drift from one beautiful sight to another, to see her face… as she comes on mine.

“S… Sutton…” Crazed licks, brutal suction, nips turned bites, a few more flicks of my tongue, and she goes off. Explodes. Thrashing, in convulsive waves, coming for me. “Holy, oh my, Sutton, that was,” she rambles in incoherent gasps, as she relaxes back into reality.

I slowly slither my way up her body, all the good parts rubbing against each other, push her arms over her head and weave our fingers together. Just like this… trapped beneath me, nipples poking my chest with every deep breath she takes, hands clamping my hold on them, lust-filled eyes wide and begging me… catching her few and far between, makes all the chasing more than worth it. She twines those long legs I love around me, mouth hot and impatient on my neck. “Sutton, I need it. Need you. Please.”

One of these days — even if it’s my last, having died trying — I will hear those same words while she’s clothed. Fucking watch me. But for now, I’ll take what she’ll give.

I scramble off the bed and to my jeans in double-time, and oh my fuck… I’ve barely turned when she’s right there, followed me… dropping again to suck my dick while my teeth annihilate the condom wrapper. “Eyes,” I snarl, too fucking amped up for niceties. Looking down at Presley, looking up at me, with my dick in her mouth. Yeah, not asking; demand it. “You love sucking that cock, don’tcha?” She nods, pupils dilating. “You don’t want fucked? Rather have it in your mouth than your pussy?” I ask in knowing that the dirtier I talk, the more primed she’ll be. “You sure, Sugar? So fucking good, but I’m really wanting a feel inside you.”

She pops off me, a feverish hand replacing her mouth. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Show me,” I grunt her earlier words back at her. “Get on that goddamn bed and show me how you want it.” I glove up blindly, eyes set on her… bending over the side of the bed. “From behind, huh? Whatever you want.” Another know — what she’d pick — not a bit upset that it’s her favorite, ‘cause I could watch her phat ass bounce for the rest of my life and never get sick of it. I close in, grab those hips and bend over her to growl in her ear, “tell me, Presley. Tell me the rest, that you didn’t before. ‘You lay in bed every night’ and what?”

She too stays in the know, no hesitation or need to ask what I mean… picking up right where she left off… the rest of her sentence that’s been plaguing me. Head turned, wanton gaze binding to mine, she confesses. “Think of you. Close my eyes and picture you. Scream your name when I get myself off, come hard, like it’s you touching me.”

Fuckkk, yes she just said that shit. I nudge her ankle and she spreads her legs further apart. “And since me?” I need to hear more.

Her eyes instinctually narrow — I’m pushing my luck, but if I’m ever gonna get her to admit it, now’s the time — so I grab my dick and tease at her dripping core to soften the blow. It works. “N… no one,” she purrs, pushing back against me.

Primitive propriety takes over, rumbling in my chest, and I drive inside her, feeding on her wail. “No one but who?”

“You! Oh my God, you, Sutton!”

With a forceful hand on her back, I prop that ass higher in the air, and fuckingpound — months of starved frustration, and no explanation steering every ruthless thrust. She chants my name, taking it, loving it, anything but shying away from the savagery.

I can’t slow down, any faster impossible, lost to everything that isn’t Presley, hot, wet, and pulsing around my cock as she screams for more. “You gonna come for me?” I brace a hand on her ass, teasing the hole with my thumb, my other already between her legs, two fingers pleasing her clit. “Take me with you, Sugar. Come on my cock, long and hard. Want this tight-ass pussy squeezing it out of me.”

“Sutton, so good, you… you…” it’s an endless, moaned medley to my ears as she does it like only she can… and we crash over the edge together.

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