Chapter Fourteen

Celia Fuck! I thought about Becky and what it would mean going back to the bar, but I felt as if I was in a trance as I followed him to his house. It was only just across the street and we walked up the set of steps. He opened the door and walked in, and I wondered if we were alone. Was this his house? How could he afford it?

But those things didn’t matter, I decided as I slipped my boots from my feet and padded along behind him.

“Care for that drink, I promised?” he asked and led me into an empty living room. There was a drinks cabinet in one corner, and he went there now. He poured two square glasses with a small amount of amber liquid and brought one over to me. I stood there, the glass in my hand.

“Try it, it won’t bite. Much.” His smile was amused but his eyes said he already had me undressed and on my knees.

I swallowed the liquid in one gulp and then gasped. I put a hand to my chest, where the heat was the strongest and tried to breathe. Air finally started to come through and I sat down on the black couch behind me. “Sorry.”

“No worries. Scotch takes a little getting used to.” He stood over me, his eyes steady, reassuring.

“Do you have it often?” I asked innocently, my head in a spin as I wondered if I should get away from him. Give myself a minute to think about this, but I couldn’t move. The tension was too much.

“Yes, on occasion.” He said it softly as he came to stand in front of me. “Mainly when I need to wet my throat before a long session of talking. Or other activities.” He knelt in front of me and spread my knees apart.

He was making my blood boil and he hadn’t even touched me. I hadn’t eaten at the diner, but I wasn’t that kind of hungry anymore. No, this wasn’t that kind of hunger, this was a kind I didn’t quite understand yet.

He pulled me closer to his body and my legs slid into place around his waist. I could feel the heat there, where my center came to rest on the bulge in his pants. I was his for the taking and there was no resistance at all. I thought, only hours ago, that being this close to him, to my mystery texter would make me nervous. That I wouldn’t know what to do. Instead, here I was, running on instinct, and sure that this was what I wanted to do.

His eyes raked over me, then down to the place where our bodies met. I saw his tongue flick out, and it made my core clench even tighter inside of me.

I felt something twitch where he pressed against me and knew it was his cock. He was as hard as a rock and ready for me in a way that was impossible to ignore. I could feel the heat of his desire as it radiated through our clothes. I wanted him to make me his. I needed it and his body responded to that need.

His fingers gripped at my hips tightly as he ground his cock against me in a way that left no doubt as to what his intentions were. The pressure was so exquisite, the stimulation so overwhelming, that I wondered if I was going to embarrass myself by getting off right then and there. I let out a low moan, but he heard and chuckled quietly.

“I was going to offer you something else to drink,” he purred his voice a low vibration that made my ears hum with fascination. “But I don’t think you need it.”

“I’m fine,” I whispered, unable to make more sound than that. His hands pushed up the hem of my sweater dress, his eyes glued to the places he revealed. He looked up into my eyes when he saw the faint hint of my light blue cotton panties. When I didn’t protest, he pushed the dress higher and then over my head. He threw it away, behind him somewhere, but right now, I didn’t care.

I was just glad I had on the plain cotton, light blue bra that matched my panties. They might not be sexy silk and lace, but at least they matched. His hand roamed over my body, teased at the edges of my panties for a moment before he slid his hands up my waist until he the bottom edge of my bra.

His fingers didn’t probe any further yet, but he did cup the large globes in his hands. He squeezed gently, just enough to feel the weight of them. “They’re so beautiful.”

I couldn’t say anything, not yet. I was too fascinated with the sensation of his hands on me, in so many places, including my breasts. Breasts that no other person had ever touched, not in my entire life. When his fingers stroked over my cloth-covered nipples, my hips jerked, and I looked up at him afraid that I’d done something embarrassing.

Instead, I saw a grin of satisfaction and knew it was the response he craved. He did it again, so I let nature lead me and ground down into his hips, my eyes closed as I groaned loudly.

We were in his living room, on his couch, with the door open. Anyone could see us, but he didn’t seem to be concerned, so I didn’t let it bother me. I just concentrated on Keith’s hands and the way he touched me.

His fingers gripped my breasts, and with an expert move, gathered the material of my bra until he revealed the dark red points of my nipples. I’d always been ashamed that I didn’t have the delicate pink nipples that so many authors write about or the shade that showed up in so many nude pictures of women. I had this gaudy, wanton looking red color, and I hated them. Or I did before Keith saw them.

“Now those look fucking delicious.” And he went on to prove it when he leaned forward and took each one into his mouth for a nice long suck.

He got the first taste over with, and then he greedily sucked on them in turn, each nipple was teased with his velvety soft lips and the sensual brush of teeth. His face was smooth against my skin, but the sensation of someone else touching me was a contrast that was deliciously different from the soft wetness of his lips.

As his mouth tormented my nipples, and me, his hands began to travel further, down to the edge of my panties. His fingers skimmed beneath the scrap of material over my hips, before they tugged the material down. I felt his knuckles skim across my virginal sex, but he didn’t linger. Not just then. I had to shift around to let him take the panties off, but then my legs came right back up, right around his waist.

“Easy now,” he said with a chuckle. “Let me make this good for you, Celia. Let me make you come.”

He slowly slipped his hand between our bodies and drew a single finger along my opening. His eyes closed as his fingers sank into my folds and he felt just how wet I was. I’d read enough erotica by this point to know that being wet was a good thing. Apparently, it was a very good thing if the look of intense pleasure on his face meant anything.

With a groan that was a sound of pleasure and pain, he moved. He pulled away, pushed the coffee table back, and put my feet down on the ground. He wasn’t done though, not nearly, because he then split my knees apart and moved his face between my thighs. With a sure movement, he slid his hands under me and pulled me right into his mouth.

I’d have screamed if he hadn’t immediately found my clit and stolen my breath away. It was so good, too good and my fingers clutched at his hair to hold his head in place. I lifted my right leg, just enough to get the right angle as his tongue flicked over my clit. When his lips closed over the spot and sucked, I couldn’t help but groan his name. Loudly.

“Don’t stop, Keith. Please don’t stop. That feels so good.” I’d teased myself before, got myself off, but this was something else entirely, something that set all of me on fire and made my nipples ache for his touch. I’d never felt desire or pleasure quite like this.

I could hear the sound of his mouth as he worked me higher, but it didn’t make me cringe, it was just another stroke of my senses, all of them. I could smell his manly scent, feel the silky strands of his hair in my fingers, the sensation of his body between my thighs, and the way it felt to have one leg wantonly thrown over his right shoulder. I could hear the sounds we both made, smell the scent of my own sexual desire, and it all just... exploded.

Something tightened in me, something that felt so fucking good, but then there was this explosion and things fluttered as waves of pleasure rolled up from where his tongue was on my clit and straight up into my brain. Keith had gotten me off, and that was all I cared about as my shoulders twisted back into the couch and my pussy soaked his face.

“I’m going to fuck you now, Celia. I want you to tell me that you consent to it, that you consent to me sliding my cock into this hungry little pussy of yours. Can you do that for me?” He wiped at his face as I blinked my eyes. I still had my bra on but didn’t care. I just wanted whatever came after that experience.

“Okay,” I agreed, knowing from our texts that this was the dirty Keith, the one that needed me to say the words he wanted to hear.

I nodded to make sure he understood because I didn’t want to wait one more second. I had waited long enough. Taking me by the hips once more, he positioned me at the right angle before he pulled me closer to him. His pants were gone, and so was his sweater I finally noticed. I wasn’t sure when he’d taken them off, but he must have, I decided as I glanced down to see his bulging cock. Seeing his cock in the flesh sent a bolt of lust rolling through me. I’d never wanted anything inside me so fucking badly.

Seizing me in a powerful grip, he plunged his shaft straight into my pussy, burying it all the way to the base in a single explosive thrust.

“Fuck!” We both cried out, but my cry was one of pain. It was sharp, a tearing sensation that was being dowsed with cold water came over me for a minute. He held himself still for a moment as if he knew I needed to adjust. When I could breathe again, and my fingers gripped at his hands on my waist, he started to move inside of me.

A slow slide out and then a powerful thrust back in. Over and over, steadily, until we were both panting for more.

“Please, Keith. I need more. Fuck me harder.”

And he answered with an animal cry of lust and threw himself into doing exactly what I’d asked. His fingers clenched into my hips, dug into the skin so tightly I knew he’d leave his mark on me, and all I could do was hang on for the ride. My legs wrapped around his hips while he ground into me and I tried to follow his pace.

“You feel amazing.” I heard him say, and my eyes fluttered open.

“You’re so big,” I said, my voice broken and quavering, amazed at what it felt like to be fucked by him. His cock stretched me out in a way I’d never known was possible. In a way I knew I could never give up, even then.

He thrust deeper into me and I moaned with the fullness of it, every muscle cinching around him, savoring the pressure. He responded by wrapping both powerful hands around my shoulders and yanking me closer, giving him more leverage to grind himself against me. He fucked me with the desperation and ferocity of a man with one day to live.

Keith wasn’t only taking, he was giving. He drove me higher, into my orgasm but he was also taking it from me, demanding it from me so that he could claim it for himself, and he did it with such intensity that it should have been frightening.

That intensity ignited something inside me, a kind of deep-seated desire I’d never known before and it scared and excited me at the same time. I realized while the couch was rocking, and I was screaming as if my life depended on it that he wasn’t kidding. He was doing more to me than anyone had ever done. He was claiming me.

My muscles clenched tighter still as my body began to stretch and tremble with new pleasure.

“I’m not done!” he growled, making me wonder what he meant. What did he mean by not done? His awareness of my body was almost inhuman. “I want to fuck you on your hands and knees.”

With a grunt, he pulled free of me, leaving an aching emptiness between my legs. Seizing me by the thighs, he flipped me easily onto my stomach on the couch. He moved me as if I was an object, roughly not caring about anything but just taking me.

I closed my eyes and let my head rest on the arms I’d folded under my head. I clutched at the couch, breathless and quivering, as he fucked me, hard and fast. Crouched there, coated in sweat, he was wild and mine, if only for the moment.

“Keith,” I gasped his name as he slowed his pace to something that didn’t boggle my mind so much.

Leaning in close, he whispered to me in that spectacular voice of his. “You’ve earned this.” He pushed himself back into me and began rocking back and forward, reaching out with one hand to stroke my clit. “This is what you’ve been waiting for with all those texts.”

My body started to heave as another climax took hold. The whole world appeared to shatter before my eyes. The strength of it was so overwhelming that I couldn’t speak. The only thing I could do was scream or hold on to the side of the couch to stabilize myself.

As my pleasure began to subside, his movements grew faster. The noises from his throat became more guttural, his thrusts longer and harder as if he was lost in his own world and in what was to come.

I was still sensitive from the intensity of what had just happened but having him burst inside me was so enticing the sensitivity barely registered. My body wanted more of him as if knowing that I was making him lose control gave me all the pleasure that I had ever wanted. Knowing that he was in control physically, but I was in control mentally.

After a few more seconds, he shuddered and went rigid. “Celia, I don’t know what you’ve done to me.”

“What?” I asked unable to move. Still holding on to the couch for dear life. Wondering if he was going to take me again. I lifted my head up and saw the couch had moved closer to the wall.

“I’ve never lost control like that.”

I wondered if he was talking to himself or confessing it to me. I stood up so that I could face him. He was shaking his head as if he was trying to shake some sense back into himself.

“You’re still hard.” I stood naked, facing him, and I could see his obvious erection.

“And you’re still wet.”

I reached out and ran my hand softly up the length of his slick erection. Slick from my juices. “Take me again,” I pleaded with him, whilst looking into his eyes wondering if he would be able to resist.

He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. “Save some energy for later. I have plans for you.”

Part of me was intrigued and then there was this other part that felt like there was nothing else to do. We could fuck and sleep in between. Nothing to fill up our time in between. “It’s not like we have anything else to do.”

That came out completely wrong. The reason I wanted him inside of me wasn’t only so that he would fill me up and treat me like I was the last woman on Earth and he needed to be with me so desperately.

No!

I wanted more of what we’d just had. I wanted to feel like I was a part of him, and he was a part of me. I wanted to feel like I didn’t exist again, and only he could give me that, I thought.

“Stop teasing me. You’ll get so much more later…” he said, stroking me between my legs delicately.

“Is that a promise?”

He stared at me for a second, as if he wasn’t sure he should make a promise, then nodded his head. “For now. Right now, I think we both need something to eat and a cold drink. Later, we’ll decide how long this is going to last.

Suddenly, the mood had turned serious. I wasn’t sure if he was going to keep his promise. I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be at his house, but I knew he’d fuck me again. At least one last time before he sent me home.