Coffee and Sympathy

She turns once more to face him. "Bill..." He puts his index finger against her tender lips.

"Karey." Their eyes lock, then his flick to the wall behind her. "Look there," he points over the doorway to the stairs, "'Abandon hope, all ye who enter here'." He pulls her against him, burying his face in the sweet meeting of her neck and shoulder. "Seems pretty clear to me," he mumbles against her ear. "And I'm ready..." He pulls her hips into his. Such a lovely fit. "More than ready." She hesitates only a moment, filled to bursting with the desire he has ignited in her.

"So let it be done..." She turns, clasping his hand to her left breast and ascends the stairs before him. His free right hand slides between her thighs as they climb the stairs, his insistent fingers finding her moist center and pressing in so accurately that her legs buckle on the third step from the top. "Oh, god, Bill," she twists to smolder up at him behind her, "you got some kind of gps gizmo in those fingers or what?" He moves his hands to her waist and lifts her over the two remaining steps.

"No more lollygaging, young lady," his voice is low and growling. "You have a date with destiny." He joins her on the landing and smoothly lifts her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. In three strides he is at the door to her bedroom and pushes it open with his foot. Draped over his shoulder, she is gasping for breath from laughter and pressure and lust.

"Rhett! What are you doing? Put me down!"

"Scarlett, you're going to get what's coming to you." He throws her down on the comforter-covered bed. Her breasts literally heave as she tries to recover her breath. His face is highly colored from exertion... and his plain desire. She lies watching him, loving the feeling of helplessness at the strength standing before her. His hands move to his belt and pulls it tight to release it. Then he stops and takes in the woman lying before him.

His hands leave his waist and move to her knees bent over the edge of the bed. He kneels between them and slides his hands up the outside of her thighs. Hooking his fingers in the waistband of her leggings, he pulls slowly... gently but inexorably. Her hips rise to aid his end. The leggings descend and he peels them off her feet. He pauses.

"Oh god." His fingers trail lightly over her hairless mound. "Oh my god, you're so... smooth." Without taking his eyes off of her lust-engorged pussy, he pulls her hips toward him and the edge of the bed. His dark head descends. As his cool lips meet her feverish womanhood, she buries her hands in his hair - not pulling, not pushing, but translating the delicious movement of his head to her shoulders and aching breasts. His tongue barely touches her delicate petals but he breathes deeply of her scent and his nose explores the top of the cleft - touching her hardening clit in maddeningly light pressure. After a moment of exploration, his tongue thrusts deeply into her juices, truly flowing now.

He straightens suddenly, looking hard into her face. He seems almost angry and her heart skips. His fingers wipe the moisture from his lips and he sucks them clean. What is he thinking? He stands, towering over her. She is gripped by fear for a moment. He has changed his mind, she thinks. He's overcome by guilt. I'm a Jezebel and he's going to do something awful. As she lies quailing he bends, hooking his powerful hands under her arms and pushes her up onto the bed. With an animal growl he pulls the translucent blouse over her head and throws it across the room. His weight descends on the full length of her body, his belt buckle cold on her bare midriff. She gasps.

His teeth grasp the edge of the lace that covers her breast and pulls sharply down, exposing the rigid nipple of her left breast. Her eyes shut tight, her body rises to meet his mouth and fear is quenched in the tide of heat that flows through her. The electric current that his mouth engenders bolts to her pussy, creating a rush of moisture. His weight lifts from her and she feels bereft for a moment. But in a flash he returns to her breast and she feels the skin of his legs against hers. His mouth leaves her again and when he returns she feels the fur of his massive chest against the smooth skin of her belly.

She peeks through her lashes to see his nakedness above her. He is looking right at her and she knows her trepidation and heat radiate from her into his eyes. "I'm going to fuck you" he whispers down at her.

"Yes," her mouth makes the motions, but no breath comes. She feels that "top of the roller coaster hill" feeling and spreads her knees, running her feet up the back of his powerful, silky-haired thighs and crossing her ankles behind his waist. Her breath returns in a rush and her breasts swell up to meet him. "Please." Her eyes are his captives.

He reaches one hand down to guide his as-yet-unseen manhood to the gate of her swollen lips. He rubs the tip of his hardness to part her labia and distribute the moisture that has been gathering. He breathes in deeply and holds it, never looking away. He enters her slowly and she realizes that he may be the largest she's ever accommodated. Her eyes widen and he watches her carefully. Her head curves back and she breathes in, their eyes meet again as he completes the effort. A perfect fit.

"Wow," she manages to breathe. He stills inside her, then moves slightly. "Bill." She smiles directly into his eyes. She pulls his head down to kiss him. And kiss him again. "Who would've thought?" She giggles and squeezes his cock with her internal muscles. He gasps and then laughs.

"Oh, I've always thought," he murmurs, pushing in just slightly, but enough to make her gasp again. With that, he slides out slowly. The very action of his cock makes her legs fall aside. She is a vessel for his manhood. All she can think about is the sheer fullness of him - of her. He pulls out entirely, again rubbing the tip up the length of her slit. She lies with bated breath, waiting only for the return. And he returns, faster and somewhat harder this time. "God, you're like a glove," he mutters as he slides again to touch the very top of her tunnel. He rolls to his side, pulling her leg over his hip. They lie face to face, looking at each other when they can, rolling against each other slowly, slowly.

After an indeterminate time of this slow exploration of the simple mating of their perfectly suited forms, she rolls him onto his back and without ever loosing him from her velvet grasp, mounts his hips. She posts to their trot, like a trained English rider, withholding the depth of her then dropping down to push him deeply and deeply inside of her. His hands cup her breasts, covering her to her collarbone, her nipples peeking between his fingers. She curls down to meet his lips.

She rises after a moment, him buried deep within her and not a muscle at work in either of them. Eyes locked, she clenches her inner muscles tightly around him. His eyes widen then close as his lips part and his hips thrust up wordlessly. She nestles down upon him and bends to take a nipple into her mouth. With a gasp, he fills her with the coin of his desire. Their centers pulse in perfect synchronization. She falls to the side, exhausted and glistening with the coming together of their two irresistible forces.

Silence descends on the forms that appear as if fallen from a great height. The snowy landscape casts a brightness into the room that picks up the moisture and contours of each sated body. Hands move slowly to pet and soothe and explore. Breathing matches, parts, and matches again. His breath catches and hers beats his to the punch. "Sleep," she whispers, "sleep."

He breathes out, relaxing all of his muscles in response to her direction. As she loses consciousness, she thinks only of waking. And of coffee.

-end-