Red Lights 2016

"Beautiful, wonderful Emma. Your turn." I backed away from him so he could stand and...finish stripping?



He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor. He stepped out of his shoes and took the rest of it down with it, and there he was, naked and unbelievable and mine.

I sat back and just watched for a bit as he got down on his knees and crawled over to me. He pushed me flat on my back and pulled my legs open, hooking his fingers in the sides of my panties and unceremoniously yanking them down and off. They were flung off somewhere and I was completely exposed. He stroked down my thighs, savouring the differing texture of my skin and my hose, before diving right down into me. He inhaled deep and slipped his tongue between my lips and I almost snapped my legs shut right on his head. He held my legs open with those big hands and drove me absolutely insane, going from long, languid strokes to barely touching me. 



He came up for air, stopping to wipe his chin. 



I took that opportunity to sit back up and kiss him. I didn't care that his face was drenched with me, I just had to have him. I held his face in my hands and kissed him like he would disappear if I stopped. He raked his hands down my back and held my ass, and it fit perfectly in his hands. We broke for a second to breathe, and I took a big chance.



"Please?" I said, terrified he'd say no.



"Yes, yes, oh my god, yes." He laid back against the carpet, pulling me up on top of him and taking my mouth with him. I had to be careful how I maneuvered; he was hard again.



I really didn't like being on top, but to get him inside in the first place, it would be much easier on me to control the depth and speed. Oh man, this was going to hurt.



I supported myself on my hands and raised up, giving him the room to guide himself into me. His head hurt a little, and to be honest, I was a little tight from disuse. But once it popped through, the rest slid in easily and holy mother of GOD he felt incredible. I loved the stretching, the need to contort my walls to be able to fit him in. I sat up on him for a minute, just getting used to being filled again after so long. I moved up, wanting to torture him as badly as he'd done to me the entire night. My descent was agonizingly slow, for both of us, I'm sure.



We continued like that for a bit. He became impatient and tried to move with me, grinding his hips up into me again when he was almost completely out. That felt good enough that I didn't mind he was trying to take my control. As fun as it was, what I really wanted was for him to stay on top, to keep being the Sir he'd become in the last few hours. 



"Take over?" I said.



He smiled and held tight to my hips, moving me as he wanted.

Still slow, but harder. 



That still wasn't quite what I wanted.



"Get on top," I said, trying to catch my breath.



"What was that?"



"Please, sir, please."



"I don't think I understand what you want. Now, what was that?"



He pulled almost all the way out and then just stopped. It was fucking maddening.



"Please, please fuck me. I've been good all night, please just fuck me."



Oh, that bastard loved it.



One more long, slow thrust up, and then he was out of me and giving me space to climb off. I switched places with him, laying flat on the carpet enough that my back popped a good four or five times. Oh my god. I spread my legs wide for him, absolutely dying to get him back inside.



He kneeled between my legs and teased me mercilessly, dragging his head over my opening, barely sliding inside. I bit my lip and waited. He just wanted to watch me squirm. Satisfied with making me crazy, he slipped back in, and it felt even better than when I was on top. At this angle, he hit all the right places and it was almost perfect.



He leaned down and kissed me, wrapping his arm around me and supporting himself that way. It crushed me close to him and this wasn't at all what I was expecting. We'd gone from destroying each other to whatever this was in a matter of minutes, and it was intense enough to bring fresh tears to my eyes. I don't know what it was, but something changed and we weren't just fucking anymore.



We kissed and touched and moved together slowly and deliberately, but it still wasn't quite getting it for me. I reached down between our bodies and rubbed, finally finding what it was that I needed. As good as it felt, it was a little hard to concentrate because I was still trying to memorize every inch of him that I could get my hands and mouth on. 

I gave up. Surely this wouldn't be the last time we'd do this. I had plenty of time to learn his body. Right now, I needed relief.



"I'm getting close," he said. His breath was hot and ragged on my neck. I was getting there too, but not as fast. "Where do you want...?"



"Just...don't worry. I have an IUD, it's fine."



"God, Emma...oh my god..." he sighed, burying his nose in my neck and completely coming apart.



I could feel him coming, from his erratic movements to the heat that was rapidly filling me, but he didn't slow down. It wouldn't take much, I just needed to get up over that edge.



"Come on, you've been such a good girl, you deserve this." His voice was soft and sweet but there was that edge to it, that seductive note that made me want to do whatever he asked.



"Come for me, Emma. You're so close."

It didn't seem like much, but it was enough. The world exploded and I saw stars—I could hear him talking, but I don't know what he was saying. I removed my hand and raked it up his side, just wanting to touch everything at once.



I came down. He stayed inside, but barely. His arm trembled a little, probably exhausted from having to hold his weight. He climbed off me and came the rest of the way out, moving instead to lay next to me and fold me up against his chest. We didn't speak, but then again, I don't think we needed to. I listened to his breathing, to his heart. The music was still on in the background, seemingly following the mood and flowing into a quiet acoustic cover of Dancing In the Dark. 



I didn't want to fight it. I wanted to lay back and surrender to the waves of feelings taking me over. For once, I wanted to run towards somebody instead of running away. I could feel myself attaching, perhaps even falling in love. Never before had I actually felt it happen. But the gradual shift in my chest and brain was very much there. 



Fluid seeped from inside me to stain my hose. I didn't want to ruin his carpet, so I crossed my legs and pressed them tight against his own. I followed the trail of dark hair from the tangle on his pubic bone up to his flat belly, to his chest. His heart thudded steadily under my palm and I hoped against all reason that it was as traitorous as mine.



He broke the silence first.



"I think maybe we ought to wash up and turn in," he said, though he made no move to rise from the floor.



"I think so. I feel disgusting," I giggled, suddenly both nervous and aware of the various sticky fluids that probably covered my whole body.



"Come on. My shower is huge," he said, rising, then extending a hand to me. I took it, and was immediately grossed out that my own hand was slimy.



I followed him through the house to his bedroom, and the master bath attached to it. He kept his own room dark, so I couldn't see much of it, but the bathroom was luxurious. Red and gold, clean lines, plush crimson towels. He started the shower and let it heat up. "I'll go grab your bag," he said, and it occurred to me perhaps he was trying to give me some privacy. I took advantage of that.



He returned with my bag and some clothes of his own. I waited for him, stepping in the shower after he did. He closed his eyes and stuck his head under the water, flushed from the heat. He got himself saturated and switched spots with me. I relaxed under the stream but it stung on my back. He must have worked me over better than I thought if it still burned. The scent of his soap filled the stall—warm and musky, patchouli and citrus and something else that I couldn't quite figure out. He passed me my own soap, which was vanilla and sandalwood. The scents mixed well.



We changed places again, giving him room to rinse. He slopped conditioner through his hair and rubbed it into his scalp. I'd never seen a man take such care of his hair, but then again, he'd been the first I'd met in ages that didn't have a short cut. He left it in and stepped back. When I took my place under the water, he turned me to face him and gently took my face in his hands. He tilted my head back into the stream and ran his fingers through my hair. I sighed, just enjoying the feel of him touching me like this. 



He washed my hair for me. The tenderness of this act surprised me. It didn't feel like we'd just met for the first time tonight. He dipped my head back for the third time, rinsing out the conditioner. When my head came up clean, I pulled him under the water with me and held onto him. He was fine with that for a bit, but ended up shuffling me to the other side to rinse himself off. I stepped out of the shower and rolled up in one of the huge squashy towels, reveling in the difference to my thin, overworked ones at home. I held his open for him when he stepped out also. God, he was a glorious sight nude. It was like some Greek statue come to life.



I changed into a tank top and satin shorts. He was so charming in just his plaid pyjama pants.

"I'm grabbing something to drink, do you want something too?" he said, making his way towards the kitchen. He dropped his towel in the bin outside the door. I followed suit.



"That sounds good. My throat's getting dry," I padded after him.

In his fridge, he had good beer, plenty of meat and fruit, and some very questionable cheese. I smiled at the ten cans of instant croissants as well. We did have that in common. 



He poured me a mug of non-alcoholic cider and one for himself. Both of them went in the microwave. I walked across to the living room to look out the big bay window I didn't notice before. It was really coming down now, the snow was fat flakes collecting on everything outside. It was beautiful. I felt a hand on my shoulder.



He brought me my mug and stood behind me, wrapped his arms around me as I took a drink. It was so sweet and warm and good. So was he.



"Come to bed with me?" he said.



I nodded.



He pulled the cord of a lamp on his nightstand, illuminating the room. It was all warm woods, reds, gold, and luxe. Thick curtains like in the office, many surfaces and I could see all the nefarious uses for them. He peeled back the duvet with its plush red quilting and gold vine filigree. The sheets under were so soft, but there was only an impression on his side. It broke my heart to see the very obvious shape of his body curled over on one side and then just...bareness on my side.



I climbed in and settled under the blankets. He got in next to me and pulled the light out. I snuggled into his side, laying my head against his arm. I trailed my hand down his chest, trying to find a nice place to lay it while I waited for sleep. I think I had the direct opposite effect I was hoping for, though. I felt the sheets become disturbed and he turned to kiss me. I'm sure he had designs for a chaste, soft goodnight kiss after a wonderful night, but that's not what happened. Before I had time to figure it out, we were winding around each other and kissing and touching and smouldering. 



"Oh my god," he laughed. "We were going to bed, right?"

He snaked his hands down my thighs from behind and I was bought and paid for.

This time he got me naked first, getting into my slick shorts and leaving my top alone. He slipped his hand between my legs and began rubbing soft circles that drove me nearly crazy. I reached for his pants, but he swatted my hand away. "Just enjoy, don't worry about me," he said.



So I did.



He curled his fingers up inside me and stroked up, beckoning me to come hither, but I wouldn't, not just yet. The tissue under his fingertip swelled and grew, and the feeling was so intense. I felt myself get a little too close.

"Okay, okay, please stop. Now," I said, wiggling him loose and turning over on my belly, getting up on my knees and bending over. 



He stripped off his pants and pitched them over the side of the bed, moving up to find my opening. One hand holding himself up, the other resting on my hip, he pushed in. It hurt so much more this way, but the pain was the same thing as pleasure, in a way.



He felt thicker like this. I knew it was an illusion, but it didn't bother me in the least. I buried my face in the bed and reached between my legs. I stopped for just a second to feel the two of us connected, and it made him hiss through his teeth. I didn't realize that would feel so good. 



It didn't take long before I was spasming around him and crying out, which pushed him to the same edge. Once again, I felt myself fill with heat, but this time, I just got immensely tired. He pulsed, slowly pulling out and falling back on his haunches. I turned over and laid on my back, holding my legs together tight, lest I cause a mess on these lovely sheets. He dug around on the floor on his side of the bed and flung a hand towel at me. I crammed it between my legs and waited. He pulled his pants back on and stretched out flat, spread-eagled down on the bed. When I was confident the dripping had ceased, I discarded the towel back onto the floor and redressed myself. I laid in the crook of his arm and inhaled deep, loving the scent of soap and sweat and skin at his collarbone.



"Thank you, John," I sighed. I kissed his jaw. He held me close into his side and popped his back, settling back into the sheets.

"No, thank you. Sleep for real this time?"



"Please, god."



I yawned and he caught it from me.



We drifted to sleep, curled into each other's bodies, completely at ease.

All this time later, even though I wear this collar every day, I still feel just like I did that first night.