The Race Back

John raced her back to his place, and of course, he won; but only because he knew the area better than she did. Elle licked her lips in anticipation and had the uncontrollable urge to touch his skin. They had come from the theater, where groping was de rigueur and she had rubbed him in just the right way to tilt his head back and get him to sigh deeply in that way that made her wet. She rubbed his thigh and kissed his neck in what was so natural a motion it seemed involuntary.

When they finally arrived at his place, they played out all the motions of civility, preparing drinks and small talk, but both knew what was the other was thinking, and that was almost exclusively skin contact. She leaned forward to look at his CD collection, and he took that time to kiss up her spine. She reacted by producing goose bumps and leaning into his kiss. He kissed up to her neck and pulled her down onto the couch with him. There they continued kissing, and she had noted with pleasure that he was quite adept. He knew how to control his tongue without darting in and out like a tease and how to move not fast nor slow, but as if their mouths were involved in a sultry slow dance. She loved it.

His mouth was wet with desire, but not overly so, and he tasted sweet without being sugary. She felt like she could chew on him forever if given the opportunity. She straddled him to kiss him more fully and ground herself into him. She could feel him even through the thick shorts he wore. She leaned into his neck and took a deep breath, and her nose was filled with the scent of him, and it was as if it were made of some addictive smell. She would go home later that night and shower, only to take the shirt she had worn and put it to her face, catching the faint familiarity of his scent where she had pressed against him.

“I’ve wanted to jump on you for so long,” she murmured when she caught a breath.

“I’ve wanted to taste you for so long,” he breathed back into her ear. She became wetter at the thought of it and marveled at how he could say the precise right thing to send her into bliss. She had been accused a few times before of selfishness, of liking to be pleased too much, but she felt the right lover, the one whom she was most compatible with, would want to sample every bit of her body, as she would his; and the “favor tally” would be abandoned forever. She kissed him again, enjoying the dizzying sensation that came along with it. He took over and laid her down on the couch (how she loved a man who took control), and leaned over her.

She closed her eyes as he slid down her. Her heart raced and her mind went numb upon first contact of his tongue with her nether regions. The fact that he had seems to want to taste her made him a thousand times more desirable than he already was. He moved lightly, but rapidly with a precision that seemed to find the center of her arousal and stimulate her, without over stimulating her or pounding her relentlessly with his tongue, like some men were known to do. She felt the familiar heat as she was about to come, and the uncontrollable twitching of her thighs and hips as she ran her fingers through his hair, more to stabilize his head than anything, to guarantee that he would not go anywhere until she was finished. She was about to have one hell of an orgasm, she could feel it swelling and peaking. She wanted to remain quiet, for fear of any nosy neighbors, but she just couldn’t help it. She wanted to remain still and appear to have some semblance of self-control, but that was gone too.

She thrashed and groaned and clenched her teeth in preparation for the shockwaves that were arriving. Tingling shocks shot straight from where he was nestled up to the very ends of her hair and into her fingertips and toes, and her hips had ceased to be under control as they twitched and bucked. Her thighs tightened and she felt the desire to howl, but managed at the very least to resort to squirming and deep ragged breathing instead. She went limp for a fraction of a second and then came that feeling that always followed being well served.

Her competitive side emerged and she felt the need to give as well as she got. She wanted to best him, and in this case, she knew that meant she would have to seriously perform. She regretted her fingers clumsiness as she fumbled with his buttons, aching to touch all of skin. They moved in one swift moment to the floor where her mouth hungrily searched out the cock she had only felt before under clothes. When she finally produced it from its bothersome clothing, she was surprised not only by the size of him, but also by his girth. She had always been curious if the old porn adage was correct that it wasn’t size length-wise (although he certainly had bragging rights in that area) but how thick it was that mattered.

She leaned into him, tasting him, and finding that she was enjoying him, she tried to swallow him whole. She formed a seal with her lips and created a vacuum, sealing him to her and she loved hearing the surprised sigh that followed. Her tongue explored the delicate yet tight skin the covered his sex and tried to playfully tickle him with it. When she began bobbing rhythmically up and down on him, he groaned and asked her to come up, which score another immense sexual point with her.

She straddled him and rode him, he guiding her hips and pounding themselves into each other. She felt like closing her eyes and enjoying her own orgasm, but fought it, as she was enjoying prolonging it and the view of his intense brown eyes and wonderfully sexy face was worth the delicious agony of delaying herself. His strong hands were clasped firmly on her hips and guiding her and she could feel his long fingers tickling her thighs. It was as if every nerve in her body had because extra sensitive to every groove on his fingertips, every inch of his skin that came into contact with hers ignited a fire where it touched. Her eyes slammed shut and she shuddered with her final orgasm, cursing herself for being so easily orgasmic. She would have stayed physically connected to him for hours were it even remotely possible. She was having more fun than she could ever remember. He came shortly after and she couldn’t help staring at the man who had enabled her to feel so much pleasure.

She smiled at him as his eyelids began to droop and kissed his forehead before returning her clothes to their pre-coital positions. He started to protest her leaving, but she wanted to preserve this perfect night in her memory so she held a single finger up to her lips, winked and slipped back into her car, racing the entire way.