Him

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An accident flings them together, and they give in to desire
2.6k words
4.25
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All of a sudden, my hands were in his hair.

My slender fingers ran through each chocolate curl on his head just like I had imagined – no, fantasized – about every single day. His own digits, calloused from writing on the board and holding pens for much too long marking, found their way onto my back, holding me like a... lover. My body leant back and his shifted forwards, we were locked in a titillating embrace.

The distance between our bodies was miniscule, and the hold wasn't broken by either of us. We were too close and held each other too long for this to be chalked up to an innocent encounter. Good.

"Be careful, you almost fell," he murmured so quietly that my ears strained to hear, not wanting to miss a word. He attempted a smile, the sides of his eyes crinkling as his warm brown orbs, hidden behind immaculately clean lenses, stared into my black ones. But his grin faltered after a moment, and I wondered what was running through his mind.

"Y-yeah, I'm a klutz," I replied, attempting to play it cool. I laughed slightly, intending it to be smooth enough to cover up my stutter. Instead, I felt it came out awkwardly. I was sure my face was reddening by now, as it often did when he was looking at me.

His intense eyes never left mine, threatening to render me incompetent. Feeling the heat surge through my face, it became all too clear to me that the longer this lasted, the weaker my resistance and morals would grow. I had to do something, didn't I? So I moved first, attempting to remove the arm that was around his head, the hand that was buried within his locks.

He made no movements to stop me, and a pang of disappointment struck. My arm slowed in pace, almost comically so, begging for him to do something. Just as my limb released itself from him, when I was free for the briefest of moments, he stopped me.

The man in front of me, the one I had dreamed of touching and having him touch me, truly was.

His hand gripped my wrist just enough to hold me still, but not enough to be painful. The sunlight reflected off his frames as thoughts raced through my mind. Was this truly happening? Though a part of me wanted to look away, afraid that my true feelings were reflected in my orbs, I dared not.

He began to hesitate, as if he regretted our touch; for a split second, I was afraid that he would let me go.

But he didn't.

With the gentlest of movements, he lifted my hand to his impeccably soft, parted mouth. My teeth sank into my bottom lip anxiously as I watched him plant a kiss so light that if I hadn't seen it, I would have sworn it never happened.

I was too stunned to speak.

His eyes half-closed as if he were dreaming, he kissed his way down my fingers. He breathed deeply, taking in my scent as if it were ambrosia. Then, as if he couldn't take it any longer, he threw my limb behind him before wrapping both arms around me. His lips now only inches away from mine, I could smell the tantalizing aftershave he wore; it was intoxicating.

"Are you—" I started, instantly regretting that my voice sounded so breathy.

He didn't allow me to finish.

Instead, he lowered his head, and his lips met mine.

The instant our mouths met, the moment our breath mixed, it was as if something inside of us, perhaps the invisible barriers, shattered. With strong arms, he lifted me up onto the wooden surface. My free hand gripped the side of the desk as he pushed towards me. With my one arm, I clung to him, desperate, craving his touch.

His tongue searched for and found mine with ease. In a delicate tango, they danced together as our bodies drew even closer. Involuntarily, a moan escaped my lips, a light feminine sound that made him smile. Oh, how I loved that smile. I pulled away, inhaling a breath of air to steady myself as he watched me. I felt as if I would faint from the excitement.

To my horror, I saw the light grin disappear from his face before he extracted himself from my body. "I'm sorry," he muttered, his face hard as he turned his gaze downwards, staring at the floor. "I... That... That shouldn't have happened," he said, breaking my heart. A war was probably raging inside of his mind. Passion against morality, wrong against right. One similar had been in my head for months on end.

I didn't know how to respond, so I simply didn't.

His eyes burned with something that I couldn't decipher, but it was a look that had the hope inside of me shriveling. All I could hear was my heart beating, pounding like a jackhammer in my ears. My knees felt weak, and the knuckles on the hand that gripped the table turned white. I couldn't control the crimson that spotted my cheeks.

"N-no, it's my fault..." I managed to say, feeling the need to break the silence. "I shouldn't have... I..." My eyes flickered to his ring finger, where a thin tan line stood out, then back to him. I wanted to tell him that it was fine, that I was going to leave, but I couldn't. The words were caught in my throat, refusing to come out.

"I can't control myself around you."

It was a simple sentence, but my heart skipped a beat. My breath seemed to stop, and I hoped he would continue.

"I want you. I need you," he admitted, as much to himself as it was to me.

For a split second, conflict appeared on his previously stoic face. But then it was gone, neatly filed away underneath a well-crafted mask. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his, waiting with bated breath, wondering what the hell was going to happen.

Suddenly, easing all my worries, he broke into a smile. He had made up his mind, it seemed. "Do you feel the same?"

Unable to find the words to articulate my whirring thoughts, I nodded.

Before I could react further, he was at my throat. Those sweet, soft lips sucked at my flesh, leaving delicate red marks along every edge of skin he kissed. His hot breath scorched me. His hands roamed, sliding down my body, and up into my pure white blouse. I trembled as his hand brushed across my stomach, moving higher and higher.

I couldn't help but pull him in closer, nestling my head in the crook of his neck. The fit was perfect, as if that gap was made for me. His scent once again engulfed me, and I couldn't help but relax.

When his hands hit the bottom of my bralette, I thanked the heavens that I had decided to wear something lacy and cute. His hand pushed underneath the stretchy waistband, his fingers reaching my breasts within seconds. He palmed one of them as I felt his lips curve against my skin.

"I overheard you that time you spoke with your friends about these..." He murmured, sending a tiny chill down my spine.

"Oh, God." I flushed and winced, feeling embarrassment radiate throughout my body. I recalled that certain conversation, where I had wailed on being teased about my small B's.

He chuckled, a low rumbling sound that I had grown to love. His lips were at my ear, sending the delicious laughter right into my heart.

"Little did you know, I wanted to show you right then and there just how perfect your breasts are..." He nibbled on an earlobe, sending tiny little pulses of pleasure everywhere.

With his left hand, he tugged lightly at my short plaid skirt. "You are such a tease... Every time you wore this, I wanted to rip it right off you." His hand slipped underneath the fabric, lightly running his fingers against the inner flesh of my thigh; the incredibly sensitive skin reacted to him pleasurably with shivers.

I finally realized just how much he wanted me, and the thought of that made the spot between my legs grow moist. I had never been so turned on before in my life, and I was terribly afraid that this was just a wonderful dream. I had never thought that it would be possible for him to feel the same way I did.

I spread my legs, giving him full access. I wanted to give him all of me.

And he was more than happy to take.

His fingers grazed ever so slightly across my cloth-covered sex; involuntarily, a tremor ran through my body. He did it again, and again, each time with only the tiniest bit of pressure. As his talented mouth toyed with the flesh of my neck, I clung to him. My breath came in short bursts, the excitement that coursed through me making it sporadic.

"More," I breathed out, the need in my voice painfully obvious.

With a swift tug at my panties, they were off, and thrown towards the ground. As the warm air of the room swirled around my clit, I felt his finger press onto the nub. With some sort of sorcery, he coaxed another moan from me as he drew a circle, just teasing, nothing more. But just his touch, the one I had craved for far too long, was almost enough to drive me to the edge.

His lips found mine once more, our tongues tangling together as the light scent of coffee wafted from him. That familiar scent was so comforting. The heat of my body grew like wildfire, something I had only thought happened in the romance novels, but now realized was frighteningly true.

"Someone's excited," he laughed, dipping his fingers in my wetness, coating himself with the sticky liquid.

It made me blush, even though I tried my hardest to stop it. "Can you blame me?" I muttered.

He smiled, and as my heart fluttered, he drove two fingers into me.

The cry I let out resounded through the room. His digits filled me almost completely, and my walls squeezed him tight. I was not a virgin, but by no means was I experienced. The way he pushed into me was slightly painful, but the pleasure overpowered any pain. He probed deeper into me, searching for my most sensitive spot, no doubt so he could punish me with it.

I had never experienced sex like this, so tender, so gentle, but still so sinfully delicious.

He seemed to be starving for me, something he had hidden very well before. My legs trembled as my nails dug into his skin; my orgasm was rising so quickly that I couldn't keep myself still. "Sorry," I moaned out in a voice that was so full of arousal I could hardly recognize it as my own.

"Don't be."

The climax came over me in a sudden rush.

He watched me intently as I came, and it never even occurred to me to be embarrassed. My sex was throbbing, pulsing at a rate I had never felt before. My heart was just as fast, pounding against my chest as if it wanted to fly out. The noises coming from my lips were primitive, unintelligible.

As my orgasm ebbed, he extracted his fingers, and keeping his eyes on mine, he slipped the digits into his mouth. His tongue licked, lapping up every last drop of me. "It's just as I had imagined," he uttered with a trace of a smile on his face. "Delicious."

It was then that I noticed just how thick the bulge in his pants protruded. It strained against the zipper of his black bottoms, begging to be released. And it would definitely be my pleasure to do so. My hands reached for his waistband, for the dark belt. My hands were shaking slightly, a mixture of excitement and nerves.

The belt clattered to the ground as I methodically undid the zipper, and when my fingers brushed past the obvious bulge, he let out a sound that made my blood boil. His briefs and his pants were soon discarded onto the floor, and oh, what a sight it was.

The smoothly curved dark phallus, the lighter-colored tip shiny with the first dribbles of pre-cum, was rock solid, the veiny shaft raring to go. Though I had imagined many, many times what his cock would look like, it was nothing compared to this magnificent rod. Just at the sight of it, the powerful longing within me grew; I needed to feel him pulsing inside of my aching sex, and I needed it now.

The surge of arousal must have been apparent in my eyes as he smirked, simply rubbing his length against my aching sex. I stared at him accusingly, and saw nothing but humor in his eyes. God, how I could get lost in those eyes...

"Please," I whispered, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip, my whole body calling out for him. "Please!"

He leaned forwards, capturing my lips with his. And with one smooth stroke, he pushed himself in.

A very audible gasp passed through my lips when I felt him penetrate me for the first time. I had been waiting for it for so long that it felt like being electrocuted. A jolt of pure bliss shot through me, travelling at the speed of light towards every nerve in my body.

The smacks of flesh upon flesh were punctuated by our moans and grunts. As that long length slid into me, one steady thrust after the other, there was nothing I could do except cling onto him with all of my strength.

His hands roamed my body, finding their way onto my behind and cupping it, squeezing as he slowly lifted me higher and higher. Not a single doubt entered my mind when I had reached a substantial height; I knew he would make sure I never fell.

He was burying himself so deeply inside of me, hilting himself completely as his cock twitched. A bead of sweat dripped down his brow as he practically flew with speed, the concentration sexy on his soft features. Each thrust seemed to only increase his need for me, and mine for him.

He was nearing his climax; I could tell as his cock expanded, pushing, straining against my rapidly tightening walls. "Oh!" I uttered, feeling the first tingles of the second orgasm wash over me, a feeling I had truly never experienced before. This climax was hard and relentless, intent on removing me of all rational thought or function.

The shaft jerking, he allowed my behind to touch the now-warmed desk surface once more. He leaned down, and the words he spoke were the final nail in my coffin. "You. Are. Mine."

With a flurry, my juices poured onto his length, coating it completely with the clear nectar. As my sex pulsed and vibrated, he let out a sharp gasp. His breathing grew increasingly ragged, even more so than before. His length was as hard as stone, and oh, it was so, so amazing.

A flood of white-hot cum spurted into my womb as my body trembled, my pussy moulding to his shape. He leaned forwards, holding my body in an intimate embrace. He was still inside of me, and though his body sated, he didn't extract himself. Instead, he stared deep into my eyes, and simply smiled.

"You've no idea how long I've waited. No idea."

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  • COMMENTS
2 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousalmost 8 years ago
Good sex scene

This is just a vignette but a good one, although the characters themselves are cloaked in mystery and there is no context. But the writing is mostly sound and I encourage you to build it into a story.

trigudistrigudisalmost 8 years ago
Graphic Sex Alone...

Romance does not make. Anonymous (why some people here won't reveal even their site names is beyond me) is right.

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