Site icon Cara Thereon

A Grip

Ever have a story pop into your mind when you’re doing something that makes it impossible to write it down? I’m driving when this story, this first line popped into my head 5 hours ago.

She loved the weight of him in her hands. The color, dark with blood brought on by lust teased her. The heat, the dark scent of him at the base of that heavy stalk where the hair curled wild always made her mouth water. Just the sight of his hand at his waist during simple conversation drew her eyes and made her think about his taste. God, his taste was a salty treat she loved. Her hands would itch to undo his pants so she could suck the hard length of him down her throat. The twitch of his body as she toyed with his balls always sent a wave of pleasure through her. She couldn’t concentrate when her mind wandered there.

“I recognize that look.” His hand settled on his belt buckle and her eyes refused to move away from the bulge pressing against his zipper.

“What look?” Licking dry lips, she pulled her gaze from thick temptation.

While laughter flickered in his eyes, desire rippled there as well. He knew her to well, could read her after so many years of indulging her fantasies. She wasn’t fooling anyone, not even herself.

“Uh uh. You have to tell me what you want or I won’t give it to you.” Her face colored from arousal and embarrassment.

He toyed with the buckle, watching as her eyes dropped to his crotch again. His dick seemed to pulse under her hungry stare. When she looked at him like that he could barely keep himself in check. Because that look always ended with her kneeling before him, worshipping his cock with her mouth.

She vibrated with need, her teeth worrying her lower lip in that way that drove him crazy. He’d never been with a woman who loved sucking him so much. The wet warmth of her mouth could drive him to the edge so fast he had to stop her so he could sink into her cunt. She didn’t know how much control she had over him when those pink lips wrapped around him. The depth of her pleasure, written like a blush on her cheeks, added to his pleasure.

He’d give her anything in those moments of bliss.

“Well?” He sat in one of the kitchen chairs, thighs spread as he stroked the zipper of his jeans.

Asking was hard for her. He wouldn’t let her come close until she said those words that only rolled off her tongue when the need overwhelmed her. It was reaching the critical point already, pushing her propriety out the door as want of him sliding along her tongue took center stage in her mind.

He yanked the worn belt from the loops and dropped it to the ground. She took a step without even realizing. The button popped opened, and then the room filled with the erotic sound of his zipper lowering. Her heart tripped before it sped into a frantic gallop as she caught a glimpse of his black underwear tenting out just a little.

“Please.” The word slipped out as she took another step.

“Please, what?”

He wouldn’t give that easy. Even as she began to pant, even as the sound of her begging shot straight to his cock, he forced himself to remain relaxed and waiting. Waiting for her to admit who she was to him.

Her cheeks flushed a light pink beneath her tan skin. She shifted, her eyes trained on the ground, throat swallowing reflexively. He almost wondered if she’d overcome her latent repression to express her need.

“May I please suck your cock?” Whisper soft and full of embarrassment. The flush deepened, spreading down her neck.

“And?” He pushed his pants and underwear down to his thighs. Her eyes snapped up as the object of her desire jutted out.

She closed the distance between them and sank to her knees before him. Thick cream soaked her panties as she let her eyes take him in. He threaded his fingers in her hair and tugged her head back, forcing her to meet his eyes. “The rest or I’m walking away and you get nothing.”

They both knew he wouldn’t, but the possibility… “I’m a dirty girl who loves your cock. May I please suck it?”

The moment he loosened his grip she leaned forward and held the length of him in her hand. She savored the heat of him for only a heartbeat before she swallowed him down. They moaned in unison. Taste, texture, and glorious sensation swamped them both. Her mouth stretched around him, of filling and being filled. Hollowed cheeks, wet heat, dribbling pre-come, connected gazes…

And when he gave up the salty treat that she loved with a violent thrust of his hips, she flew herself without a single touch. Pleasure rippled through them from the simple act of letting go. She loved him, loved that he let her give so she could receive. Loved that he let her love his cock.

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