The Corner of H & L (13)

I twisted inside my shirt – my jaw, even the bottom of my nose was free through the neckhole, but the collar had hooked on my ears and I couldn’t see anything but white cotton and straight down, to the candle-lit curves of her legs and my own stomach.

Then her arms slid further around, tightening, and she pulled me to her, against her chest and between her breasts, into the canyon between them made even deeper and more crowded by her squeezing arms. Her hand slid up through the collar to catch the back of my head and press me into place. Her shoulders rolled forward and she leaned into me, rubbing and sliding and jiggling in that peculiarly absurd and sensual way that left me overwhelmed me with sensations of her flesh.

“Kiss me,” she murmured, and I did, greedily, closing my lips over whatever skin she offered. She guided me with the hand at the back of my neck, compelling me to trace along the outline of each curve, to flick my tongue against the crease where her soft skin folded on itself.

Then she was angling her ribs, moving the cup of her bodice against my nose, urging me toward the areola now just barely concealed beneath the leather. She didn’t help by freeing herself from the cup, so I struggled, like a calf trying to suckle, and succeeded finally in slipping my tongue between her breast and the bodice to just flick at her nipple. She sucked in a quick breath, then pulled her arms free and pushed me away. I fell backward, onto the bed.

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Cheating Life – 11.6

She stepped back from the rug so we could get a better look at each other, then rested her hands on her cocked hips. “See, I’m rather frustrated at the moment. I just got back from running our circus for a group of tourists, and let me tell you, I can put on quite a show.” She wiggled her hips and ran her hands down her thighs. “I start the crowd off, get them all horny and excited, and I keep them there when the ring shows change, but at the end of the night, they always want to leave with the girls in the acts.” She began to pace in front of me as she worked toward the climax of her monolog. “The lionesses and tigresses – they get their prey, the ponygirls get their riders, the clowns their prats, and even the acrobats leave with some balls and pins to juggle, if you follow. All I want is my … one … mark.” She stepped right up to me, a heel on either side of my hips sinking into the fur rug, and she thrust her satin-covered mons up against my face. “Someone to take advantage of. Uhh… mmm.” Her thighs squeezed over my cheeks and chin and she grabbed the back of my head for leverage as she slid down to my chest and up again, using my skull like a dancer’s pole. “Come on, baby, give me something. I need some friction.”

My hands found their way up the back of her legs to cup her ass, and after a few minutes of grinding, groaning, and gasping – of her leg hooked over my shoulder and around my neck to hold me in place – of nearly precarious balancing acts stabilized by a quick grab of her gloved hands, pressing my head ever harder into her, we both found our way back up onto the edge of the bed. My fingers had discovered a hidden snap placed conveniently at the bottom seam of her briefs, and my lips and tongue found no further barriers – instead a rather pressing invitation – behind.

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