Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Tiny Tale Tuesday: Intermission



It wasn't a movie. It wasn't slow and delicate with soft lighting and a full moon. It was the middle of the day on his lunch break and he slammed his body against me as soon as he stepped over the threshold. "Bed. Naked. Now."

Off I ran, tripping as I ripped out of my pants, left them in the hallway, my shirt on top of the dresser, my boxers flung across the room onto the TV. I fell backwards onto the bed just as he came in. He kneeled and lifted my legs by the knees, exposing my hole to the chill of the air conditioning. He flashed me a simple smile, then his face went down. Hot, humid breath washed over the tender skin. A warm, thick tongue pressed against my entrance, lapped at it, worked the muscles until I relaxed, opened up, let the warm, wet pressure slip inside. I bit down on my knuckle to try and keep from groaning. But it didn't work.

And when I groaned, he pressed even deeper, slicking the hole with spit. And, like always, he pulled away too soon. His tongue flicked against my balls, sending tiny fluttering sensations all the way up to my cockhead. I focused on them. Almost too much. I almost didn't notice his finger against my hole. It was rough, callused from working on cars. I squirmed lower, taking it deeper. I felt each knuckle pop into me, all the way down to base. He moved it inside me, warmth and pressure, massaging an ache I hadn't realized was there until he tried to address it. in and out, curling and twisting through folds of soft, sensitive flesh. There was no longer any point in trying to hold back my groans.

In with a second finger, stretching me open. I knew he didn't have time to go all the way, and I wondered. But this wasn't a book. I didn't spend my time worrying about the eventualities. It was the middle of the day and my man wanted me, and I wanted him to have his way with me. I wanted whatever he had to give me, and every bit of it.

I didn't get it. he slipped his fingers out and climbed on the bed, curled against me. His hard-on pressed the rough fabric of his pants against my bare flesh. He whispered warm words into my ear. "I have to leave. Don't get dressed. I want to think about you waiting while I'm at work."

It was just intermission.

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