Page 65 of Sideline Play

Gliding my hand up between her sweat slicked breasts and over her neck, I grasp her chin and pull her mouth open, saying, “Here, taste,” spitting some of her delicious and heady essence on her tongue.

Scarlet’s eyes close as she savors and contemplates her flavor before swallowing.

“Remington Tate, you are absolutely filthy.”

Bending down and kissing her, I growl, “And you fuckin’ love it, don’t you, my girl?”

“Mhmm,” she hums. “I do. But your buttercream is still better.”

“Then you can suck it from my cock if you love it so much.”

“Oh, I plan to,” she says, biting her lip against her smile.

Sweeping her errant flyaways and growing frizz back, I cup her face and pull her up to meet my lips, groaning, “Fuck, you’re absolutely perfect for me,” before plunging my tongue into her mouth, the moan she gives as she sucks on me betraying just how much she enjoys tasting herself secondhand.

We kiss, dancing between slow and sensual and fast and desperate, my hands mapping paths along her sternum, stomach, and up her sides back to her breasts, only breaking apart when I feel her hands grow bold on their travels. Soft fingers caress up and down my ribs, further learning the ridges and valleys of my muscles, each pass bringing her lower and lower until her fingers are curling around the open waistband of my jeans and attempting to tug them and my boxers off my ass.

“Scarlet, baby, what are you doing?” I tease, obstinately not helping her to remove them.

Instead of answering, she releases me and pushes her shoulders back, opting instead to work her hands into the space she created. Then coming back out, she reaches up to the straps of her bra and begins peeling them down her arms, her small breasts that I love overwhelming with my much larger hands,falling free, nipples darker and more proud as they await my attention. Holding it out for me, I take it from her, my fingers caressing the warm lace, as she whispers, “Too many clothes still.”

Looking at her still in her bunched skirt, I agree, moving back off the bed. Hooking my hands into her waistband, I start to carefully work the mass of delicate tulle down her stomach, the damn thing forever seared in my mind as seeing her in it immediately had my dick and heart jumping over the idea of her as a bride,mybride,my wife. When I reach her hips, she easily lifts up for me, allowing it to pass over her butt. Then it’s with methodical, precise movements that I guide it off her legs, leaving it in a graceful heap on the floor. The image of its fluttering layers in the candlelight making me momentarily wistful for the not too distant future when it really is her wedding dress decorating our floor.

Stepping out of my boots and socks, I push my jeans and boxers down and free myself of those as well. Then crawling up the bed, I prowl after my girl as she scoots back toward the headboard.

She’s stunning like this. Her dewy cheeks highlighted by the dim, warm light. The flickering shadows around the room reaching out to caress and lick upon her curves. Her waiting innocence accentuated by our white linens and pillows. Blonde hair like a golden halo as it fans out across the sheets. And just beneath her angelic surface, streaks of naughtiness play peekaboo as her gaze regularly drops to my veiny cock, her pink tongue darting out to lick her lips with every look. Bit by bit, her knees open and her hands reach for me, calling me home to the place where I fit between her thighs.

Lacing my fingers through hers, I close what remains of the space between us by settling into the warm, smooth cradle of her toned body. Her knees close around me as she hooks her calvesover my thighs, rocking up to tip my weight onto her. I do as she bids and reach between us to position my eagerly jutting dick so it nestles between the lips of her pussy. A soft hum vibrates from her chest as I glide through her wetness, slowly lowering myself until I cover her completely. Finally, I let go of her fingers and scoop my arms under hers, resting my weight on them as my palms hold her shoulder blades.

Scarlet’s fingers gently dance along my spine, flitting about from vertebrae to vertebrae and up to my own shoulders before unhurriedly making their way back down, all the while looking deep into my eyes, shy vulnerability causing hers to repeatedly flutter close. It’s as they close again that I lean in and steal a kiss.

Taking my bottom lip between hers, she pulls on it, her giggle wickedly mischievous as I groan only for her sounds to turn into a gasp as my hips respond to the action by rocking forward, my cock gliding over her clit.

The longer we kiss, the harder I find it is to pull away from her. It’s slow and unending. Each caress and touch of our tongues lingering and melting into the next. Each breath softly exchanged between us, my inhale born from her exhale with my own returning back to her. Each time we try to pull apart in order to seek more elsewhere, we’re drawn back like magnets.

Our fingers and hands have even calmed to match our languid pace. One of mine comes free to whisper along her side where I reacquaint myself with the peaks and valleys I map and memorize each day. I trace my path down to her hip and curve with her as I hike her leg up higher on my back. Underneath me, it spreads her out, allowing my cock to more easily rub and move with the cresting rolls of her hips.

In turn, Scarlet’s shimmery golden pink nails lightly rake down my back. It’s an echo of how she scratches and claws just before she comes, the gentler version igniting goosebumps and calling the fine hairs along my body to attention. I all but purrfor her when her touch sends shivers down my spine. Sweeping around my waist, she retreats her action, drawing it up my abdomen and across my chest. At the flat of my nipples, she circles her thumbs outward, her palms taking over the motion before climbing up. Over my shoulders and around my neck, she links her arms, using the leverage to pull herself up on me, her lifted state deepening our kiss as her head tilts further to the side. And bracketed around my body, her legs hold on, hips grinding and rocking, their pace beginning to increase.

It’s as her clit continues to rub along my shaft that the charge in the room begins to shift. The longer she uses me, the more wet she becomes. She’s hot and slippery, plush and puffy. My own arousal grows and mingles with hers, my body desperate to aid her and keep her attention where it is. To have her chase down her release and further soften and relax her for what’s to come.

My girl’s kiss grows hungry. Her breath turns into short, quick pants. Her pulse increases. Tearing away from my mouth, her head dives back into the pillow, neck long as her mouth parts on a breathy mewl.

Moving with her, I lower my head to run my tongue along the stretched column of her throat. Finding the sweet slope of her neck, I seal my mouth around the spot and bite, making her cry out my name as she grips the back of my head and holds me in place. Soothing the sore with my tongue, I turn to sucking at her skin, bidding her rushing blood to rise to the surface and mark her.

“More…” she whimpers, nails digging into my hips as she tries to leverage herself further. “I need more.”

Coming off with a quick nip, I look down at her sweet face. The tiny beads of sweat have returned, rolling back into her pretty hair. Her brow is pinched in frustrated concentration, cheeks warm with color and kiss-stung lips parted. Tracing herlower one with my finger, I warn, “Hold on,” rolling to flip us the moment I feel her muscles lock around my body.

With a quick squeal she’s in place on top of me, hands slamming down on to my chest to keep balance. Grabbing her hips, I lift her up to prop myself against the headboard, lowering her back down with a slow caress over my cock.

“Stop teasing,” she pants, her words delayed as I’m already letting her go and turning my attention to her breasts. Engulfing both with my hands, I keep my eyes trained on her as I knead her flesh. Then as she starts to rock and grind along my length, I bring my mouth to her erect nipple, flicking it with my tongue before sealing my mouth on her and sucking at her puckered areola as I pinch and pull on the other, providing her the echo of pleasurable pain she craves.

Head falling back, hair long and brushing my thighs, she shouts, “Fuuuck!” her hands coming around to hold onto my legs as she begins to give short, upward thrusts that finish on a bounce.

“Remington?”

“Yeah, baby girl?” I ask around her breast. It’s there in her hooded eyes; she’s ready to come. Teetering on the edge, her movements growing faster and losing rhythm. Releasing her, I bring my hands down to her hips and help her keep her pace, asking, “What do you need, Scar?”

---