Page 58 of Triple Threat

It was touching heaven, her nipple firm under the sheer slick fabric. It was easy to liberate her shoulder and then she was bare to me. I cupped her breast and traded her lips for a taste of neck, and a brush of my lips across her collar bone. I took her nipple in my mouth and kissed it. Her hand was in my hair, the other still against my body, trapped between us.

Her moan was silk against my ear. “Conan, yes.”

“I should tell you—” I started to speak, but she pulled my face into her chest, silencing me. I wanted to tell her that it had been quite a while, and that I didn’t know how well I might do. All the worries and insecurities were close to the surface, only held in check by how much I desired her. Those unwelcome thoughts faded from my mind as I succumbed to her scent, and my own want.

Did I dare?

I thought of how quick Lach had been, how inconsiderate.

Ididdare.

The movement was nowhere near as smooth as I wanted it to be. I moved down her torso, my lips going to places my hand had been moments earlier. I kissed the dip of her hip and then lower. She turned, and it was to make herself more available to my attentions. I pulled the hem of her gown up, sliding it across her thighs. The material made a nearly silent whisper against her skin, and it was the only thing I was aware of.

My heart was pulsing in my fingers and my face, I felt the skin of her thigh against my lip and I kissed it. Had I been this excited my first time?No.The first time I had been an arrogant cocky bastard, convinced I was the dog’s bollocks, and spent entirely too long thinking that those first few minutes of urgent thrusting and a panicked attempt at pulling out in time ranked me in the same bracket as Casanova, Romeo Montague, and a VHS porn star. More experience taught me my flaws and conceits, and that was well before the roadside bomb removed half my leg.

My breath caught in my throat, I had expected to find lace or frills, at least one pair of her panties had a bow on them… There was nothing beneath my lips, no satin, no silk, no lace, just smooth skin and a brush of hair. She had nothing on under the nightgown. I shuddered.

I kissed, my lips slowly, patiently, seeking her secret pleasure.

I found smooth skin and then the sacred cleft, and then I tasted her.

Which was sweeter, her pussy or the moan she released, I couldn’t guess.

I went down on her with a passion, seeking both the parts of her that made her cry out, and the parts that I was sure that weren't shown the attention they deserved. Her fingers gripped my hair, and it didn't take much attentiveness for her to have her hips moving to put my tongue, my face, where she wanted it.

I ached for her.

Her pussy clenched and released, she sang out a one note song, and then she came. I looked up to see her breasts heaving and a dreamy look in her eyes. My cock strained against the front of my lounge pants and she looked from me down to it and then back. She nodded so slightly that if I had blinked, I would have missed it. I yanked the drawstring loose and pulled the waist of my pants down, finally freeing my aching cock.

If her previous gestures had been minimalist, this one was a surprise. I was fully erect and as I was released from the confines of underwear and pants, I could see a streamer flowing from the head of my raging hard-on. There was a curious look in her eyes, a touch of fear, a measure of awe, and no small amount of desire.

“Wait, let me first,” she gasped softly. I felt a moment of confusion until she reached down and wrapped her hand around the base of my cock. “My God, look at this thing,” she said almost to herself.

“You don’t have to,” I stammered. I had intended to mount her, gently, slowly. Now I was giving up ground, and she was rising, still gripping my pride firmly. I felt a churn of emotion in my guts, she didn’t have to go down on me. Part of me didn’t want her to. Some of that was my own baggage, and some of it was simple vanity. I didn’t want her to see the scars, the ghosts of stitches, or the stump.

She stroked me slowly several times, and I tried not to groan, but I couldn’t help it. She made a soft sound I couldn’t describe and then I felt her tongue on the head of my cock. I groaned again, and this seemed to amuse her.

“This is certainly impressive,” she said before going down on me. I had to stop her after what felt like an embarrassingly short amount of time. I felt like I could be seconds away from climax and the last thing I wanted to do was give her a rude blast in the face. My bollocks tightened, and I begged her to stop.

She came off my shaft and rested her head against my truncated leg. Her face inches from the ugly stump where flesh ended and only phantom sensation remained. She slowly stroked me, and I could almost feel her gaze on my cock, she had barely managed to get half of it in her mouth, maybe less. Her hair moved against my thigh and I knew that she was looking at the scars, the things I had worked so hard to hide. I hadn’t let any lover previous see what she was looking at. I felt a knot of tension draw tight below my breastbone, and then there was the softest touch above my knee.

She was kissing my ugly scars, her beautiful lips against my ruined roughly healed flesh. I couldn’t do anything, her hand around my shaft had me all but paralyzed. “Sadie,” was all I could manage. My eyes stung and I could feel tears starting to well up at the corners, then run hot down the sides of my face.

I felt like an emotional train wreck. I couldn’t have been any further from my normal stoic self that I was at that moment. She took me in her mouth again, and I felt a hot streak of tear run down my temple. I was glad she couldn’t see that, what would she think? I wiped the tear away.

“I can’t go all the way down on it,” she said. “There’s more there than I’ve ever seen.” Her statement ended in a bravely nervous laugh.

“You don’t,” I said, my voice raw. “You don’t have to, what you’re doing…” She went back down on me again, and gave my balls a firm massaging grip. “Oh God,” I groaned. She bobbed a few more times, trying again to take all of me into her mouth.

“I can’t!” she gasped, releasing my cock with a loud wet noise. I shuddered. She looked up at me, and gave it a few strokes, squeezing on the upstroke. “Maybe with a little practice.” She smiled and giggled sweetly.

“Maybe.” I gave her a weak laugh, but it was damned hard to think with her tugging on me like she was. “Why don’t you roll over on your side, and we can do something a little more like cuddling?” She smiled at me, gave my cock one last, extra firm squeeze, and then she did as I asked.

“Like this?” she asked, turning her bottom toward me.

“Aye, just like that.” I put one arm under her neck, and with the other took a hold of my cock, it was slippery wet with her attention and my need. I rubbed my head between her legs, feeling how slick and hot she was, she was so very ready. She lifted her leg slightly and kissed my arm where her face rested against it.

I eased the tip inside her. She groaned into the flesh of my arm.

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