Page 11 of Saint
She slumped on the chair. I stood and gripped my shaft which had already started to harden again. I ran my hand up and down my sensitive piercings. I wanted so bad to be inside her again, but I’d give her a brief moment to recover.
She turned over and sat in the chair, gazing at me wide-eyed like she couldn’t believe I was still hard. I let go of my shaft and propped her legs on the arms of the chair. She was wide open for me. I got an eye full of her body, while she hungrily eyed my cock.
Her shaved pussy glistened under the fluorescent lighting. Her large breasts weren't perky like most women I'd been with. Her stomach wasn't flat, and the skin was covered with faint stretchmarks, and all of it only added to her beauty. All of it made me want to fuck her more. Fuck her harder.
I gripped my dick tighter. It was hard as steel, a bead of precum shining at the tip. “You are so fucking beautiful.” I squeezed my cock, my eyes briefly closing from the sensation moving through me. “Do you see what you do to me? Touch your tits, Oya,” I said, my command laced with nothing but desire for the sexiest woman lying in front of me with her pussy there for the taking.
Her hands moved to her breasts, then she tweaked, and twisted her taut nipples between her fingers. I groaned, moving my hand up and down my shaft, a shiver passing over me each time my hand grazed my piercings.
“Touch my pussy,” I commanded.
“Your pussy?” she asked, with a small smirk as she slowly moved her hand down her stomach, until she reached her center.
“Yeah, sweetheart.” I moved my hand faster as I watched her play in her pretty pussy. “Mine.”
Damn, I didn’t think she could get any sexier, but watching her touch herself was some erotic shit I’d never experienced.
“Make yourself come, babe. I want to see how your pussy clenches around your fingers.”
My voice was raspy, low, and so full of want I barely recognized the sound as my own. She had me sounding like a possessed man.
She dipped two fingers in her channel, then brought them to her clit. Her eyes closed.
I jacked off harder, faster watching her face morph into pure bliss. “Open your eyes, Oya,” I ordered. “I want you to see what you do to me.”
Her eyes opened, and her tongue darting across her lips had me wishing it was the head of my cock.
“Fuck I’m close,” I admitted stepping closer to her. I wanted to make sure I covered her magnificent body. “Can I come on you baby?”
“Yes,” she moaned as she rode her fingers. “Come on me.”
I stroked my length faster passing my hand over the pierced head of my cock. That was all it took to send me over the edge. My body tingled and shuddered as my orgasm barreled through me. “Fuck Oya,” I hissed.
Cum landed on her tits, stomach, and her bare glistening pussy. I continued to stroke myself until there was nothing left. While getting my breaths under control I watched in pure fuckingdelight as she ran her finger through my cum, then licked it off her finger. She groaned like it was the most glorious thing she’d ever tasted.
"Are you fucking trying to kill me?" I asked as she dropped her legs from the armrests of the chair, laughing.
“You started this, Saint, not me.”
I took a few paper towels and handed them to her so she could clean my seed from her skin, then I took a handful, and cleaned my cock, shuddering from the sensitivity. She handed me the soiled paper towels and I tossed them in the trash, then reached for her outstretched hand, helping her from the chair.
I pulled her to my frame and gazed into her eyes. “What?” she whispered.
“I don’t know.” I squeezed her a little tighter, her breasts touching my chest. “I’m feeling all kinds of shit.”
A smile blanketed her face as she hooked her arms around her neck. “Me too, but you know this can’t happen, right?”
My heart slammed against my chest. “You ever had a moment where shit just aligned, and you felt nothing but peace?”
She nodded.
“This is what happened the first night I met you.”
I closed my eyes and took in a couple of deep breaths, to calm myself, then opened them. She waited patiently while I got my thoughts together, and I was grateful. I wanted to be upfront. I wanted something with her, even though I wasn’t sure what I exactly wanted.
“I haven’t had it easy, Oya,” I said, and her eyes saddened, but I wasn’t looking for her pity. “No. No. Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?” she asked.
