Page 60 of Light As A Feather
“We don’t have time for all of this,” she says through a moan, unable to let go of her anxieties. Clearly, I’m not doing a good enough job at distracting her from the group that waits for us downstairs.
Itskand Sol whimpers at the absence of my mouth. “Well, now we’re just going to have to make them wait. I can’t have you thinking that anything is more important than worshipping this body and making you feel good.” I grab her ass and give it a little smack. “Pick that book back up.”
“What?” Her voice is breathy; it makes my dick throb.
“The Phantom of the Opera. Bring it to me.” She stares at me for another moment, confused. Instead of clarifying, I wave toward the general vicinity of where she left it. Reluctantly, she retrieves it, and I get to admire her gorgeous, dimpled ass. The distinct markings are constellations that I could gaze at all night. My hand slowly slides up and down my shaft as I take a seat in the window and watch her.
After what feels like too long with her body away from mine, she hands me the special edition of the gothic horror novel.
“Have a seat.” I shift my legs open a bit further.
“On your lap?” She hesitates.
Patting my thigh, I make my meaning clear. “On my dick, Solaneen.”
Her wine-purple lips pop open, but I simply lean back and tilt my head to my waiting dick that stands proud, a throne awaiting its queen. Bracing her hands on either side of the window, she slowly lowers herself.
With the impatience of a man who’s waited over a decade, I fit my hands between that crease of her lower stomach and thigh and pull her down onto me. Her hot cunt flexes as she stretches around me to accommodate the sudden intrusion.
“Ah—” she gasps out in shock before attempting to sit forward.
My teeth grind at the sudden loss that exposes several inches of my dick. “Where are you trying to go? I hope you’re not trying to run away again.”
“It’s too much,” she whimpers. “Besides, I’m crushing you like this,” she insists.
“When I said I wanted you to sit. I wanted you tosit. Your absence has been unbearable. I want to feel all of you.” One hand presses on her lower stomach, forcing her back onto me. “I want to feel myself inside of you as deep as I can possibly go.” She attempts to stand, but with my attentive finger on her clit she reconsiders. “There we go. That’s nice, isn’t it?” Muscle by muscle, inch by inch, she relaxes against me. Even the walls of her pussy unclench just slightly, allowing me to slip in even farther. “Fuuuuck. Sol, you’re so fucking perfect.” Stroking her hair, I try to soothe her as she adjusts. “Now, why don’t you pick up where I left off? ‘Know that I am built of death’, I think it was.”
“Know that I am built up of death from head to foot…” Her voice is breathy as she gasps at the fullness. “And that it is a corpse that loves and adores you and will never, never leave you…” Even though the trailing words are hardly audible in the fog of her lust, the truth of the quote is an echo of my own devotion.
Her hips twitch as she attempts to shift upward, but my hand snaps around her thigh and squeezes. “I don’t want you to fuck me.”
“What? Why? What do you want then?”
“I want you to sit right here, just like this. I want your pussy to welcome me home. I want to enjoy the long-lost feeling of what it’s like to be buried deep inside you, right where I belong.”
“What if you’re wrong? What if Ivan comes in?”
“I hope that he does see us like this. He’s having a hard time understanding that you’re mine. I think this would be a good mental image to have burned into his memory as we go into this tonight.”
Her nails dig into the tops of my thighs. “You’re going to anger him. It’s going to make things worse. You don’t know him like I do.”
“Will it make him angry to see you being such an eager little cock-warmer for me? Sitting here so willingly while I fill you so wholly; stretching around me like you’ve been waiting for too long; shivering with the delirious need for me to fuck into you. What about when I spin shining webs of my cum all over these pretty tattooed tits?” Her pussy grips desperately around me.
“Yes. You have no idea.”
“Was he angry when you brought the others into your bed and screwed them on those stiff motel mattresses?” She tenses, uncomfortable. “I don’t give a fuck. I have a better question, actually. Did you think of me when you were fucking them?”
“I—” Her hips also stutter, slowing to a standstill.
“Shhh.” I lean down and kiss the top of her head. “It’s okay.” I thrust hard, just once, my hips meeting her plump ass, and it bounces deliciously back onto me. “I’m not mad. I just want you to tell me…did you think of me when you closed your eyes and used them?” She cries out as I repeat the motion.
“Yes,” she nearly moans.
“What was that?” Slipping my hand under her chin, I tilt her head back so I can see the truth of it in her eyes, not just those pretty lips.
“Yes. I thought of you. Always.”
“I know you did. I know you thought about how much better my dick would fill you. How good I taste. I know you missed how my cum would leak out of you, nice and warm down your thighs.” Running my fingers along her bare back, I admire the spider repelling down her spine and the gothic designs that hug each cheek. I can’t wait to get her on her knees and get a better look at it while fucking her.
