Page 71 of Afternoon Delight
He chuckled and rolled me beneath him.
“They weren’t as funny,” he assured me. “And not a single one of them ever brought me a butt plug.” His tongue flicked into my throat. “None got herself off behind a door, leaving me to think about that for days and days and days.” His breath bathed my ear. “I think about it all the time, Meg. I’m going to need to see that today. I hope you don’t mind.” He slid his hand to possessively cup my mound.
I whimpered, going molten under the weight of his hand. I searched for his nibbling lips with my own.
We both groaned as we kissed the way we’d been building up to—wet and uninhibited, with suction and lots of tongue, deeply involved. I liked how he kissed: hungry and demanding, like I was something he wanted to devour. It turned me on, along with the weight of him half on me and the way he smelled of wood and wind and laundry soap. I liked how his hand rubbed between my thighs, then roamed up and down my side, getting to know my shape while I learned the planes of his back, the shallow valley of his spine, the bristles at the nape of his neck, and the strength of his shoulders.
We started to loosen clothing. I got my hands under his shirt and explored his chest, finding a light mat of hair and his pebbled nipples.
He lifted his head and looked at me through slitted eyes. His hand popped the button on my jeans, then slid the zipper down.
“Too fast?” he asked.
I shook my head. “It’s cold. Maybe we should undress and get under the covers.”
It wasn’t that cold. I was actually pretty hot, but we rolled away and pulled our clothes off. My nipples stung as they tightened under his appreciative glance. I took in an eyeful of his nude form—winter-pale but neatly muscled. His cock stood out proudly from a tidy shave.
I self-consciously slid under the blankets.
“I suggest you pace yourself on your shyness,” he teased, joining me beneath the sheets. Our cool skin brushed and warmed, and we kissed again.
This time, when our hands cruised and searched, it was against bare skin, making it that much more powerful. More pleasurable.
“This feels really good, Meg.” He pushed his elbows into the mattress on either side of me, surging so his body slid along mine. The damp tip of his erection painted my upper thigh, then my stomach. “Better than I imagined.”
“It does,” I agreed, taking hold of his cock, fondling and exploring the heft of him, the textures of his shaft and the velvety tip. When I closed my hand around him, he pumped into my fist, eyes closed.
“I’m not going to last if you keep doing that,” he said shakily, pulling from my grip. He guided my hand between my own thighs. “Show me.”
I might have hesitated if I hadn’t been so horny. He had the gall to shift away, throw the covers back, and push my leg open so he could see better. But I wanted to turn him on as much as I wanted to ease the ache building inside me. I toyed with my clit, gathering and spreading my juices, then slowly and deliberately penetrated myself with a finger, watching his intent expression as I did.
He stuck his finger in his mouth, wetting it, then pushed it in with mine, covering my hand and trapping it tight against my body. He swept his head down to kiss me, deep and messy. Our hands could barely move. I was full, very aware of his finger inside me alongside mine, causing that extra stretch, sparking renewed flushes of wetness that made the shift of our fingers feel slippery and delicious.
Slowly, he eased his finger out of me and drew wet circles around each of my nipples, then tasted them with sloppy, wet sounds. When his eyes met mine, my hand was still over my pussy, my fingers half inside me. I felt drunk with lust.
“Are you ready for some ass play?” he asked in a deep, sexy voice.
I nodded. I really was.
He rolled away for the lube and plug, then shifted to a spot farther down the bed.
“I’d empty this all over you, but I want to taste you when I go down on you.” He squeezed a generous line of lube onto the plug like toothpaste onto a brush, then spread it to coat the silicone. He set the cool tube of lube on my belly, startling me into sucking in my stomach. I was so distracted by that, I didn’t protest when he folded my thigh up against my boob, exposing my ass and pussy.
“Play with yourself again,” he said.
I did, running two fingertips on either side of my clit while he teased my taint and asshole with the slippery tip of the butt plug. I appreciated that he wasn’t just jamming it in. He rimmed and rolled, giving light presses, each time with a little more insistence.
I was growing goopy around my asshole while my pussy didn’t know whether to clench or relax and let this happen.
“I should’ve fingered you here first.” The tip pressed a little more insistently against my hole. He rubbed lube around and around my sphincter, relaxing it with gentle pulses of the plug, easing it deeper and deeper. “You think you’d ever want my cock in your ass, Meg?”
The plug was pushing and pinching, making me start to think it was too much. Too big. As I drew a breath to say so, the stretch stopped. Relief washed over me as the ring of my asshole pursed around the narrow neck of the plug. The sensation inside me was dark and foreign and taboo. Filthy in the best possible way.
“Okay?” he asked, tracing and soothing where the plug was inserted. The motion tapped and twisted the ring, sending erotic vibrations through my pelvis.
“It feels really good,” I breathed, rolling my fingertip across my swollen clit. When I clenched internally, I felt the firmness of the butt plug. Orgasm hovered, threatening to break.
“This is really fucking hot, Meg.” He caught my hand, lifting it off my spread, pulsing pussy lips. “But this is mine now. You can rub your nipples if you want to, but I get this.”
