tagRomanceYour Turn

Your Turn

bystarkhadre©

I woke up alone. We'd only been together for a few months, but I found I could miss him rather quickly in the cold dark of night. He was becoming a writer, possessing a kind of violent brilliant that stunned me every time I read one of his pieces. Seeing him put such astonishing thoughts on paper seemed incredible, like some sort of magic. He worked at night, when the mood or the inspiration struck him, and he slipped from my bed to answer the urge to create magnificent things about dragons and sorcerers and elves. I usually lay in bed while he worked, listening to the quiet clicking of the keys as he wrote. Then I would welcome him back into my bed when the words had gone dry and he fell exhausted against the pillow.

But tonight I was restless, full of dark and brooding energy. I stepped from the bed and went to the window, looked out over the snarling city toward the smug, fattened moon. I folded my arms across my chest, enjoying the smooth satin of my short nightgown as it shifted against my cool skin, shivering a little as the lace at the edges of the low cut neck nipped at my arms and pressed against my breasts.

Tonight I missed him badly. We'd both been busy at our day jobs, hadn't really spent all that much time together in almost a week. I watched the traffic in the street under the window, wanting him badly, the channel between my thighs aching for him. I slid my hand slowly over the slick, creamy satin and cupped myself, pressed my palm against my vulva until I could feel the solidity of my pubic bone behind the soft flesh, feet the heat of my need burning me through the cloth. I cupped and squeezed my left breast with my other hand, pinched the hardened, tingling nipple and tugged at it as he liked to do. I bit my lip, beginning to breath hard, almost desperate for him now. To hell with his work, I wanted him, and badly.

I padded barefoot down the hall, and then paused for a moment inside the doorway to his office. He was a breathtaking sight, six feet of lean man hunched determinedly over a keyboard, his dark hair tousled and wearing only dark blue boxers and thin, silver rimmed glasses. I grinned to myself; seeing him in his glasses makes my mouth water, and he only wears them very seldom. I felt a quicksilver flash of mischief, a sudden urge to break his control and concentration, distract the hell out of him.

I stepped silently across the carpet at his back, but I needn't have bothered to be quiet. He never notices anything when he's working, even me. I approached his chair, a really oversized wooden one with a hard back, and then slipped into it behind him, pressing myself against his back. He jumped, turned his head to the side.

"What—" he started.

I covered his mouth with my hand and leaned forward, bringing my mouth to his ear. "Don't mind me, baby, just go ahead with what you were doing."

He frowned, and then grasped my wrist, pulled my hand down gently. "I'll be done in a few minutes," he said, and smiled at me. "Then I'll come to bed."

I returned his smile, wrapping my arms around his chest. "I'll wait."

He nodded absently, already thinking about his book again. I smiled, watching him turn back to the screen and begin to type. I waited a moment, pressed against his back, breathing slowly and deeply, feeling his own chest expand and contract inside my embrace. I tucked my chin over his shoulder, watching his fingers on the keys. Then I slowly slid my hands down to the waistband of his boxers.

His breath caught, then returned to normal, either suspecting nothing, or too preoccupied to care. I ran the tip of my tongue up the center of the back of his neck, and smiled as I felt him shiver slightly. I slipped my hands into the fold of his shorts, and idly stroked his rapidly hardening cock with my thumbs. I heard his fingers stop on the keys for just a moment before the soft clicking began again. I wrapped a single finger around him, just under the head, squeezed slightly, moving the circle slightly up and down, ever so slowly. He shuddered against me. I grinned to myself, and remained still again until I heard him begin to type once more.

I brought my hands together and trapped his quietly throbbing cock between the palms, then ran my hands slowly down his hard flesh…pulling back until my wrists were against his lean lower belly…then pushing forward, sliding the length of my hands along the smooth skin…dragging back again, cupping my hands around him and speeding up with every slide.

His head dropped back against my shoulder with a quiet moan. I laughed softly and kissed the side of his throat, then looked over his shoulder again to watch his body react to me. I tightened my hands and pushed forward, stretching his cock before dragging them back hard, flexing and rippling my fingers against his throbbing heat, speeding up and stroking him hard.

I rubbed my palms hard against him, swirling my fingers over and around the head, smearing the sweet bead of pre-come over his length, easing the friction of my hands as I cupped them tightly around him again. I began to stroke roughly, thrusting forward and back, pulling against him and lightly scoring his head with my nails every time I came to the end. I tightened my grip even further, increasing my strokes, pumping him hard and fast now, dragging and moving his smooth skin over the bone hard core, massaging his length violently, squeezing and pressing in waves with my strong fingers.

I dropped one hand to press and massage his tightened balls, letting my other hand wrap like a fist around his burning cock. I began to flick my wrist hard, pulling and shoving against him, whipping my hand along his throbbing wand.

He moaned loudly, his fingers curling over the keyboard as his hips bucked involuntarily forward, his cock twitching in my palm. I ran my tongue idly along the edge of his throat as he came, slowing the pace of my stroking hand with every slide down his cock, milking him dry, squeezing my fingers around him with every burst, massaging the hot fluid into his burning skin, pressing down against him. I slid my nails along the underside, teasing him in his pleasure, pressing sharply as I dragged the strength of my hand down his wand. I brought up my other hand then, as his shots began to lessen in force and he trembled against me, panting. I pressed them together again, slowing my pace considerably, mildly stroking him forward, massaging his cock tenderly now, and feeling his final twitches between my palms.

I relaxed my hands, just holding him now, my face pressed against his shoulder, listening to him breathe. After a few moments, I released him and moved from the chair, leaving him looking up at me with dark eyes behind his thin glasses. I smiled and turned, then made my way back down the hall to our bedroom. I went back to the window, waiting with my arms folded.

The slightest moment later, I felt his arms come around me, his mouth moving purposefully up the side of my throat. His hands slid firmly up my thighs, dragging the short gown with them. He nibbled the edge of my ear lightly, then murmured, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Your turn."

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