The Bad Day Ch. 03

Disclaimer: This is all mine, please dont copy.

He paused at the last second and almost teasingly ran over the button as he continued to stare at me with his dark eyes. My body at this point felt completely liquid. You know that feeling after an intense orgasm where all your physical abilities seem to leave you and all you can do is lay there and absorb the feeling and catch your breath? That's where I was. He looked as if he was contemplating something deep inside of me that only he could see and maybe, just possibly begin to understand.

I hadn't had a lover in a long time. I hadn't had the time or really, the opportunity. I was working on my thesis and I had vaguely thought that once I had managed to finish it and land myself a steady job I would have enough time to go and find a prospective lover. I was young. I had all the time in the world. Besides, who needs to think about their own love life when you can absorb your entire being into something like Shakespeare?

Don't get me wrong, the Bard and I did not exactly get along, and I usually ended up hating him by the time I was done working on whichever piece that was my trial of the night. In the end though, you have to respect him. Of course, all of this hate and respect do not lead to a healthy style of living for someone like me. I'm sure that one of the reasons I looked as bad as I did was because of my continual haunting of libraries and spending too many hours bent over old texts which caused one to strain their eyes and breathe in too much dust. Just the other day I checked a book out of the library that was published in 1846 and had only been checked out once in 1876. I had nearly keeled over in shock at finding it still on the shelf and in circulation. To tell you the truth, I was contemplating finding a way to steal it for my own collection.

Here was another issue that continually blocked normal social interactions. I am a bibliophile. I almost feel like I should be attending meetings for it. If I started out with just one precious book at the beginning of any new school term, I ended up with two stuffed and crammed entire book shelves by the time term was over. I have often been found sitting with a new book somewhere, subtly breathing in the scent of new ink and running my hands through the pages. My friends, the few I still had, often mentioned that they worried about me. I don't know why really, I had just found that I preferred books over often awkward and tedious dates with boys that I knew wouldn't interest me.

Of course, existing like this, as thrilling and exciting as I found it to be, did not leave one with the opportunity to.....work out certain frustrations shall we say? I had felt the ache for the past several months. That ache that just begs for manhandling and gives one the desire to wake up one morning feeling sore and well used, of course it didn't help that I was living in a city with some of the most sexually alluring accents that I had ever heard. Accents that continually tickled my inner eye and made me think of dark bedrooms and sessions across my desk instead of sitting at it. What? Sorry, American, accents just do it for me, almost as much as books do, and that's really saying something.

He finally moved. I think it was because I whimpered. An after shock ran through my body, making me arch up, which pressed my breasts, still fairly encased in my bra to push up toward him.

He smiled. It was a smile that promised that he was no where near done yet. Swiftly he stood up, crouching back down to wrap his arms around me and lift me up. I was still enough in a daze that the feeling of vertigo that I suddenly experienced was nearly nauseating.

He paused for another moment and looked down the hallway. There are only three doors to go through off of it. One, which was to our immediate right, was the bathroom and since the door was open, it was fairly obvious. The next one on the right led to the living room and the kitchen, this too was obvious, since you can see the couch from the hallway. The door straight ahead is the bedroom, and after a moments contemplation, he took us there.

My bed was my crowning glory in this small flat. The huge size filled with the softest sheets I could find, a down comforter and too many pillows is one of my few aesthetic pleasures in my fairly meager student existence. I had to have a comfortable bed, it was my one huge requirement for any living space. I had almost forgotten that a bed was for things other than sleeping and reading. Tonight I was going to be made to remember.

He set me gently down in a sitting position, reaching behind me to free my breasts from my bra, laying me fully down as he pulled it off. He paused again, seeming to enjoy the view of my larger breasts free and my body sprawled across the white comforter. One big hand came up and gently cupped one in his hand, making me purr.

It seemed as if he had decided to go slow for this round. His hands slowly savored my body and all I could do was moan and arch and twist under his grasp. I wanted nothing more than to grab him to me and do exactly what he was doing to me, but I was still too fluid to really do much.

Sometimes, when you orgasm, there isn't any more energy for you to do it again. Things have too much sensation for your body to want to do anything again so soon, but that slow heat began building in me again. It has always amazed me how hot my body gets as it reaches higher and higher toward its final explosion. His hands continued to work their magic, his mouth running over places I didn't even know could produce sensation, such as the side of my knee, and my body began stringing itself tighter and tighter once more.

At this point I had my legs spread as wide as I could possibly manage, begging him to put his hands or his mouth back where I really wanted them, but he was not to be rushed. Liquid oozed out of my exposed vulva, showing him that I was ready for his touch. He gave me a slow smile and finally reached for his pants again.

With my hands buried in the bedding over my head all I could do was stare at him as he scooted out from between my legs and off the bed to tantalizingly slip his pants down over his hips in the most frustrating strip tease of my life.

The slow stripping of his pants revealed tight boxer briefs, which were strained enough to reveal the tip of his pressing out of the slit in the front. I have to admit a weakness for this, it always looks as if they are begging to have the tip of themselves sucked deep in my mouth to be swirled around like candy.

He managed to pull his pants all the way off without tearing my attention away from his boxers and his hands went maddeningly to the boxers, repeating the process until I was ready to scream as this time he bent over enough to push them off that I couldn't see what they revealed.

He didn't simply stand up either, but elegantly stretched his arms up, over his head, displaying his entire body with an athletic grace that most men cannot pull off in this situation. I think I was drooling at this point.

Like a cat he crawled onto the bed once I had had the opportunity to once again worship the lean lines of his chest and stomach and fully appreciate the long, thick, deeply red erection between his legs. I was gratified to see that it was leaking at the tip and I think that when I licked my lips as I stared at it caused him to finally come back to me.

My body ached and thrummed with unfulfilled needs. An orgasm brought by hand and mouth can be sharply amazing, but having a man's body fill yours and physically push through that ache and need over and over leaves one with a completely different sensation, one which my body was more than ready for. I love women as much as I love men, and there were times when I craved nothing more than a woman's soft hands and mouth running over my body, her breasts pushing into mine, but there were times such as the last few months when I wanted nothing more than a man's purposeful roughness.

He seemed to slither over me. I could finally manage to bring my hands up to cradle his face and run them through his hair and down his back to grasp his wonderfully muscled buttocks, pulling him into me, encouraging him to push himself into me. I could feel his erection, where he had it teasingly just brushing my lower pelvis. I pushed my legs even further apart and arched my lower body up, finally managing to feel his cock brushing against the top of my clitoris. I dug my heels into the bed and pressed higher, tilting myself until he was just at my entrance.

"Please...." I did not quite recognize the breathy, low voice as mine, but he smiled again and pressed my hips back down into the mattress, pressing his pelvis into mine and seeming to settle against me, braced on his knees and elbows, keeping me where he wanted me.

The tip of him was just outside of me, and finally he pressed inside, but only just, only just so that he had the wide, round tip of him pressed inside of my slick heat. I nearly came from that alone. The pressure he had by simply doing that much was superb. I wiggled, trying to get him further inside of me.

He looked into my eyes then and them began moving incrementally forward. The sensation was intense and exquisite. One of his hands reached up to roughly twist my nipple, sending a sharp sensation straight to my groin, making me jerk. His other hand reached down to gently press my clitoris, which was standing out starkly, just waiting for his full length to press into me far enough to hit it as he thrust in and out of me.

I don't care how many lovers one has, or how often one uses a dildo to stretch their body, the first time a man enters you is a new sensation. Especially, if like me, you haven't had sex in a long time. It feels sharp and fills you up in a way that no toy ever can. Your body feels as if it is brimming with sensation and your lovers size, no matter what, seems to stretch you to your limit. It is new each and every time you have a new lover.

It was like that with him. He wouldn't rush himself, just kept pushing through my straining muscles, pressing directly into that deep heat, that spot that isn't your g-spot, but that spot that is at the very back of you, where the most scorching fires burn. My hands were clenched in his hair and across the muscles of his back and I think that I was making nearly inhuman noises trying to force his body to completely take mine. I was blind and deaf to all else. Nothing else existed but his body and mine in this moment.

And finally he stopped. He pressed deep against my cervix and I could feel his heavy balls pressed tightly against my anus. His bush of reddish pubic hair crinkled against mine and I felt like I could feel every detail of him pressed into mine.

Leaning down, he kissed me, invading my mouth with his tongue as deeply as he did with other parts of his body, finally pulling far enough back to brush his nose against mine and smirk at me. I couldn't decide what the smirk was about until his body suddenly and violently jerked out of mine and slammed back in.

My hips bucked and I howled. He forced himself into me all the way again and made a circling motion with his hips, sending fireworks through my body some more, My eyes were completely crossed and glazed at this point and he did it again, and again and again. Building up a rhythm that seemed as if it might last all night long.

I didn't know if I would survive this or not.

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A/N: Thank you again for all the kind reviews, especially those of you who keep coming back. You have no idea how much you brighten my day when you do so. Hope this came a little quicker than last time. Please continue to let me know what you think!