She heard the knocking on her door as she stepped out of the shower. Quickly turning off the water, she wrapped her hair in a towel, pulled on her robe and padded wet footsteps across the carpet through the apartment.
“Great timing,” she muttered under her breath, wanting to focus on getting ready for her dinner date.
Knock knock knock
“Yes, I'm coming!” she called as she moved along the hallway and reached the door.
“Not yet, you're not,” came the low reply as she pulled it open.
Standing at her door, one hand against the door frame, wearing jeans, a black crew neck sweater and a devilish grin. He was here. Her breath hitched as their eyes met.
Why was he here?
“Hi,” she managed to get out, before stepping back slightly to allow him entry. “You’re here!”
He stepped across the threshold closing the space between them, still locking her gaze with his own.
“I am,” his voice low.
“I thought - “ but before she could finish her sentence, the door was closed and his hands were on her, causing her to gasp.
With one hand at her throat, he moved her backwards until she was against the wall of the hallway. His other hand began tugging at her robe.
“You’re all wet,” he observed, his mouth now over hers, his warm breath against her skin. His lips gently grazed against her cheek, her earlobe. She heard him inhale her fragranced skin, her breathing becoming more rapid, more shallow. She swallowed, her throat rising and falling beneath his hand, her cheeks heating as her body responded to his sudden presence. He released the tie of her robe allowing it to fall open before tracing his fingers across her parted lips. He pulled at the towel, releasing her still wet hair to her shoulders, the towel falling to the floor as his mouth moved to the curve of her neck, his teeth gently nipping her skin making her moan softly.
His hand moved upward from her throat until he gripped her lower jaw between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head back, his lips now hovering above hers, sharing the breath in the millimeters between them. He allowed their lips to briefly meet, before quietly saying,
“How can I sit across a table from you…”
His mouth met hers again, his tongue running over her lower lip,
“... knowing that you are what I want to devour?”
She whimpered as his mouth took hers again, his tongue hungrily pushing between her lips as his other hand slid beneath her robe. She lifted her hands to the back of his neck, pulling him even closer to her, her fingers in his hair, dragging her nails across his scalp.
Their lips parted, leaving her breathless for a second. Taking her hand, he walked slowly backwards toward her living room, leading her forward to follow him. He stopped at the end of the sofa where he sat on its arm, pulling her closer before lifting his hand to her shoulders. Sliding his fingertips beneath the fabric of her robe, he guided both sides of the garment over her shoulders and her upper arms, allowing it to fall away from her body.
He moved his hands over her thighs, the curve of her hips to her waist. Droplets of water escaped her hair, lazily running over her skin. He traced the path of one from her collarbone with his fingertip, using the moisture as he circled her hard nipple before he grasped it between his thumb and forefinger, pulling and rolling her flesh. The sensation caused her to shudder, like a jolt of current through her body. She gripped his shoulders as her head fell backwards.
“Look at me,” he instructed, pinching her nipple harder and moving his other hand between her legs. She looked down at his uptilted face, her vision slightly distorted as she tried to focus. His other hand was now cupping her cunt, his finger slowly tracing her folds which she could feel were wet beneath his hand.
“How can I think about dinner…”
The heel of his hands began grinding against her still-hooded clit, his voice becoming husky.
“... when you are what I am hungry for?”
Two fingers entered her and she felt herself pulsate around them, his hand still pressing against her clit, her nipple still taut in his grip.
She felt her hips begin to move against him in an attempt to increase the friction, her legs starting to feel unsteady.
He moved his attention to her other breast, enveloping her nipple with his mouth, his tongue swirling around her nipple before taking it between his teeth. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she moaned, as his fingers inside her moved against the walls of her flesh. Her hips ground harder against his hand, wanting to find her release. But before her body peaked, he removed his hand abruptly and released her breast from his mouth.
“Fuck!” she whimpered, meeting his grinning eyes with her own, filled with want.
She felt like the room was spinning as she stood, holding onto his shoulders for stability.
He ran his hand through her drying hair which now fell around her face, tucking shorter strands behind her ears.
“Open your mouth.”
She parted her lips, and he ran the two fingers which had just been buried in her cunt across her bottom lip. She met them with her tongue, inviting him to let her taste. He pushed them further into her mouth, her tongue eager and hot against them, sucking all traces of herself from them.
He stood in front of her, slowly removing his fingers from between her lips. She ran her hands from his shoulders, across his chest, its rise and fall rapid, and down to the waistband of his jeans. He moved his hands to her hips, turning her body around so that her back was to him. She tried to close the space between them, arching her back so her buttocks met his crotch, his arousal obvious beneath his jeans, but the contact was interrupted by him pushing her forward to the wall. Lifting both of her arms above his head, he held them against the wall with one hand. She rested her face to one side against the coolness of the wall, her breathing quickened, her pulse racing. She felt his other hand tracing the length of her spine before his palm came to rest on the round flesh of her arse. Massaging her buttock, he leant against her so that his mouth was next to her ear, his warm breath against her skin. She licked her lips as she felt his hand move from her buttock to between her legs. She could feel his cock beneath his jeans pressed against her as he moved one finger between her folds, before tracing her wetness up between her arse cheeks.
“Is this ok?” he asked, his voice a throaty whisper.
“Yes,” she replied, a barely audible gasp, as she pushed her hips back to him.
He released his grasp on her arms, leaving her leaning heavily into the wall, and moved his hand across her pubic bone to the top of her thighs His other hand behind her, teasing her tight arse with her own arousal, began pushing gently against her opening. She lowered her body against the wall, moving her legs apart and arching her back, pushing her buttocks against him. As the finger at her arse began moving inside her a little, his other hand had begun a steady rhythm against her clit.
The familiar heaviness in her abdomen began to swell, a heat coursing through her body as the pressure built. She couldn’t stop herself from moaning as her hips fell into rhythm with his hands, building and building. She could feel him leaning over her, his mouth on her skin as he ran his lips and tongue across her shoulders.
She brought her own hand down from above her head, massaging her breast and taking her hard nipple between her fingers. Rolling and pulling at her own flesh she felt that jolt of current begin to make her shudder, tipping her body into freefall, crying out into the wall. Her legs buckled as her hips ground against him, and he breathed at her ear,
“Fuck, you’re beautiful when you let go.”
Her arse tightened around his finger as his hand continued its rhythmic circles at her clit, continuing until she moved her hand to his to still his movement. Slowly, he removed his finger from between her buttocks and pulling a wipe from his back pocket, he cleaned himself.
He pulled her gently from where she was still leaning against the wall and guided her over to the sofa so that she was standing where he had stood earlier. She looked up at him with slightly glazed eyes as he brushed the hair from around her face. Holding her hair in his hand, he pulled her face to his, meeting her lips with his in a slow, languorous kiss, his tongue exploring hers. He pulled away, whispering to her,
“I’m not done yet,”
before turning her and gently pushing her forward so she was lying along the back of the sofa, bent at the waist, her arms stretched in front of her.
As she lay against the plump cushions of the sofa, still reeling from her orgasm, she heard him removing his sweater and it landing on the sofa next to her, unbuckling his belt and the zipper of his jeans being opened before they fell to the floor. Then his hands were on her hips, strong and possessive, kneading her flesh and pulling her toward him.
“Spread your legs,” he instructed, gruffly.
She moved her feet further apart, knowing he was now looking at her exposed flesh; her swollen lips, the wetness of her arousal spread over her upper thighs. The thought of him looking at her caused her to groan, her body starting to respond to the anticipation of him.
He pulled her closer to him, and she felt his hard cock pushing against her buttock before he guided the head of his erection, allowing his tip to tease her. He pushed gently at first, parting her hot flesh so she would open for him. His hands came back to rest on her hips, pushing her down into the sofa so she was unable to move.
He moved further into her with each thrust, their intensity building, quicker now. His fingers gripped her flesh harder. She tried to move her legs further apart, just her toes touching the floor, allowing him to thrust deeper into her core.
His breaths were escaping as grunts, animalistic, deeper.
She grabbed onto the cushions, white-knuckled fists, as her cunt took him further and further, moving against his flesh as he tightened within her.
His fingertips dug into her flesh as he thrust once, twice, hard, before stillness.
“Fuuuuck,” he groaned, his cock still inside her as he steadied himself, breathing hard.
A little shakily, he withdrew from her and lay himself on the sofa, pulling her down from its back so she landed on top of him. Smoothing his hair, she planted her lips against his cheek, his jaw and his lips, allowing his breathing to settle into its normal rhythm. He pulled her to him, settled her head on his chest, wrapping his legs around hers, stroking her hair.
“You hungry?” she asked, her words murmured into him.
He tipped his chin downward, kissing the top of her head softly.
“Not anymore,” he replied.