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My first thought when I woke up was “Where the hell am I?” It was immediately obvious, as I tried to stand; that I was drunk… had probably passed out… so the logical answer to my question was that I must be at a party… Because if I’d gotten passing out drunk at home, I’d recognize the surroundings, right?
So, party. That part was easy, but I didn’t remember going to a party, and I didn’t recognize the place I’d woken up in. It was kind of quiet, pretty dark outside the one window I could see. I didn’t have my phone on me so I couldn’t check the time… and as I looked for the phone, I noticed I wasn’t wearing much of anything. Okay, maybe I’d come to the party with someone.
I am a master of deductive reasoning, you see? A real Sherlock Holmes. Course, anyone could assume from the tiny little slip of a dress I was wearing, with nothing beneath, was meant to attract attention… and since I wasn’t normally the kind to prowl about looking for a good time, it made sense to assume I’d had someone specific in mind.
I just couldn’t remember who… Which made it all the more annoying that I didn’t recognize or remember anything about the place I’d ended up in? Well, whatever. If it was important, they’d come looking for me. What I needed now was to explore. Why? Well, what else would you do in this situation?
So I figured if it was a party, there’d be music… but it was pretty quiet. Seemed to be a big house, maybe frat house or something, but I’d have expected more drunken idiots wandering around like castoffs from a zombie film…but there was just me… shuffling along…
I wandered up a staircase, and was about to wander down again, and outside in search of my car… figuring if I’d left it unlocked I could sleep inside until I woke up more sober and could ask someone where I was… That’s when I heard music, low, and a voice softly singing along… Either I was just out of range, or it was a song I didn’t know…
The latter turned out to be the case, as I found myself standing before a door that was slightly ajar, some light spilling out into the hallway. The voice was male, very low… One of those sexy mournful kinds of songs.
He was sitting on a bed, his back to the wall. The room had two lights… One of them from the computer monitor, and the other from a lamp beside the bed, shining directly down over him. He had a guitar in his lap, bare legs sticking out from beneath. A notebook beside him looked like notes had been scribbled in it, some of the words he was singing… Looked like he was writing something new…
Only, not quite… Because as I pushed open the Bostancı Escort door, fully intending to ask him where I was… I couldn’t help but notice that aside from his bright red t-shirt and sunglasses… he was naked… His hard on was pressed against the back of the guitar; I could almost feel the vibrations that would be running over him with every thrum of the guitar strings.
Was I shocked? Appalled? Aroused? I couldn’t tell, not really… I was too busy staring, open mouthed… and I couldn’t quite be sure I wasn’t drooling on top of all the confusion.
He looked up at me, or seemed to… I couldn’t quite tell whether he actually saw me from behind the sunglasses, or if I was hidden in the shadows of the hallway. Slowly he moved the guitar aside, resting it near the foot of the bed as he stretched out, propped up against some pillows that provided padding against the wall… He tilted the shade of the lamp so that it dimmed the light in the room a bit.
I meant to speak up, to say something, but I couldn’t… My mouth had gone dry; I could only keep my jaw from falling by chewing on my lower lip. My fingers were curled into my palms as I watched him…
One hand rested on his hip, just above the patch of carefully trimmed hair. The other moved toward, and quickly found, its mark. Not that it was difficult to find, mind you… Fingertips curled, stroked, moving slowly up and down. The second hand was creeping slowly, fingers caressing the sac beneath, rubbing it lightly even as the first hand began to move faster…
How long did I stand there watching, my hands convulsively opening and closing, a dampness growing in the neglected space between my thighs…? My hips were shifting, weight going from one foot to the other, and back again. My nipples were hard, and without knowing how it began, I was rubbing them against the rough plaster of the door frame, my breath coming faster now, my eyes glued to the action inside the room.
His hand was moving faster, both hands actually. The one I was more interested in was moving at a pace that covered and uncovered the object of my heated attention in the jerky motion of a cartoon flip-book or something… I knew the moment was coming, and I licked my lips in anticipation… and suddenly he slowed down.
I groaned, he smirked. He’d known I was there the whole time, the bastard. “Well?” he asked, reaching into a drawer beside the bed to pull out a condom, unwrapping it and holding it out toward me.
Did I hesitate, for even a moment? Nope. The door closed behind me and I had the disc in my hand, was staring down at him Kadıköy Escort from up close… Beautiful… His hand moved up my thigh as I put one knee on the bed and leaned over… I couldn’t resist taking just a taste, my tongue tracing the bright blue vein beneath, then circling around the head just once. Maybe twice… Then I rolled the condom down, slowly, my thumbs pressing lightly inward.
His fingers brushed upward, an approving sound as he discovered a lack of barriers, and suddenly both hands were on my hips, lifting me easily so that my knees were on either side of him. He pushed, but not hard… Just encouraging… Not that I needed it.
I watched my reflection in the shades as I moved down slowly; holding my breath as he pushed in and I began to slide down over his length…. What’s that sword and sheath analogy? Velvet and steel, something probably corny… what mattered was it felt really damn good… and finally I stopped, letting out the breath as I reveled just a moment to the sensation of his full length buried inside.
He was Mr. Cool, Mr. Casual… James Dean in his shades. His hands moving up my hips to my waist, my ribs. The dress was too tight across the top to get much higher, and between us it found its way to the floor and his fingers tweaked at my nipples… One hard pinch, one soft twist…. The contrast alone was almost enough to send me spinning away, but I resisted… That wasn’t how I wanted to go.
I began to move, slowly at first… Testing his reactions and my own… how far could I go before he slipped out, how much would he arch as I sank down again… His hands wanted to go to my hips to guide me, but I shook my head. I wanted them to stay exactly where they were. I was done with that bit… now I was shifting slowly forward and back, moving along his body, twisting my hips just a bit as I sank back… I could tell by the way his fingers tightened, nails scraping, that he liked.
Good, so did I… and the playful part of the thing was done as I increased the pace, leaning forward with my palms flat on either side of his shoulders. My breasts were pressed against him now, so his hands were free to move again, and they did… Sliding down my waist to hips, and gripping there.
Gripping so tightly that I was pretty sure there would be bruises the next day. Hoping for them, even… His thumbs pressed either side of my spine, just above my lower back, his fingers splayed out so that he had plenty of leverage. My knee joints were popping as I moved faster, his hands jerking me forward and back, harder. I rotated my hips every so often, pulling him Göztepe Escort just a bit deeper, or at a different angle.
He groaned, I panted. My hair was falling into his face, almost blocking out the light, but I could still see my reflection in the sunglasses… why was that so fucking hot? I don’t know, but it was… Whether it was the fact that he had them on at all, or that I could see myself panting for breath, my breasts bouncing as we pulled apart just enough for him to pull me onto a thrust that slammed upward… More bruises, hopefully.
“God, god… Just a little…” My eyes wanted to close, but I wanted to see, it was like watching him watch me, maybe that was why, it didn’t matter… I wasn’t focusing anymore and suddenly… He yanked me downward, growling something as he pulled me down, then we flipped, and he was on top, and that was good… better even…
My fingers digging into his shoulders, nails drawing blood, didn’t care if he minded. He grabbed my ankles, propping them against his elbows, just above my waist height. I made sure the pillows were padding me from the wall, squirmed down another inch or so, tightened my everything… Hands at shoulders, knees at elbows and… yes…
He pulled back once, slowly, then slammed forward. My head hit the wall through the padding. A soft thump like a headboard would have made. I could see my reflection; see the gasp I couldn’t hear through the blood rushing between my ears. God, yes…
And then he was moving, hard, fast, deep… God… I could hear myself gasping with each thrust, each thump against the wall…even above the ocean in my head, I could hear his grunts, his growl. “Yes…”
More.. more… more… I had to turn my face away, into the pillow… Turned out all this time I’d thought I wasn’t a screamer… just hadn’t found the right situation… shrieks muffled by cotton or feathers or whatever was inside the pillowcase and then… God yes, and then…
His teeth against my shoulder, biting down in the most sensitive… how could he have known that was my… and then thought, gone… Nails clawed across his shoulder blades, digging into his biceps now. I couldn’t find my breath to scream as I felt like I was falling apart, shaking to bits, pieces… fragments… and I could feel him throbbing, pulsing, and then collapsing onto me.
We were both shuddering still, several minutes later. I still couldn’t breathe, panting; finally he rolled away, disposed of the condom in a nearby trash can, grabbed a blanket and pulled it over us. I could feel the bruises settling in, especially in my shoulder… I’d felt his teeth grinding against bone… that one would last a while…
The light was still on, I was drifting, barely awake, and I turned to look at him. I was smiling even as I fell asleep, absurdly amused.
He was still wearing the sunglasses.
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