tagInterracial LoveA Little Persuasion

A Little Persuasion


His apartment was dark, with dusk gently seeping in from outside in slits through the blinds. A singular vertical beam of light streamed out from the bathroom. All she could hear was the shower running. She took off her clothes, letting them lay in a heap on the floor. She walked to the bathroom and pushed the door open slowly, then carefully and quietly closed it behind her. She could see his silhouette through the shower curtain. He had one palm flat against the tile wall, his head bent. His other hand was stroking himself. The shower wasn't on very hard and she could see the water coming down on him lightly. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her heart, which had begun to beat a little faster at the sight of him, and pulled the curtain aside.

He jumped and stepped back into the furthest corner of the shower. His breathing was shallow, and he kept his head bent, staring down at his feet, at the water swirling down into the drain in faint circles, refusing to look at her. He had both his hands in front of him, trying, rather unsuccessfully, to cover his cock. His heart was beating wildly, and he could hear it drumming in his ears, and he was pretty sure she could hear it, even over the gurgling of the drain. He thought of that cartoon skunk whose heart popped out against his chest whenever the girl skunk passed by. He shut his eyes tight. He couldn't believe that was what he was thinking about at a time like this.


The way she said his name almost made his heart stop. Her voice was low, and husky, and soft. It made him want to come. He finally opened his eyes, and though his head was still slightly bent, looked at her through his eyelashes. She had slipped into the shower, and she was standing there, her hands by her side, looking back at him. Her dark hair was loose about her shoulders, crinkling up and puffing out because of the water and steam, and there was a smoky look in her eyes. He wanted to grab her and push her on her back and take her right there on the bathroom floor, but he was paralyzed.

She made as if to step closer to him, but he looked away. She didn't get it. She was right there, right in front o him. She knew he wanted her, she could see it through his fingers. She could see it in the way he had looked at her, with his wet hair falling in his eyes, and his gaze drifting from her plump lips, to her breasts, and dipping down a little lower, and that creeping blush that spread on his cheeks.

She went up to him and he wished he could disappear into the wall, and at the same time wanted to lean in closer to her to touch her skin and feel her mouth against his. She reached out and touched his shoulders. He stayed perfectly still and without realizing it, held his breath. She ran her hands down his chest, letting her fingers skim lightly over his nipples and then lower. His stomach was flat and hard, and the skin there was just as pale as the skin on the rest of his body. His muscles contracted wherever she touched him, and each time he could feel sparks racing straight down to his cock. Freckles dotted his abs and a small strip of hair ran from his belly button and disappeared under his clasped hands. She traced it with a finger, and rested her hands on his.

They were both looking down at that spot now. She put her forehead against his and gently twined her fingers into his, pulling his hands away from himself. His cock was big, larger than she'd thought it would be. She could feel herself getting wet. She pulled a hand away from his and touched him. He pulled in a sharp breath. She ran the tip of her fingers up and down the length of his cock, and he let the breath out in a hiss. She ran a finger over one of his veins that popped out. A bit of pre-cum was leaking out of the little hole, and she touched it and spread it across the head. She wrapped her palm around it tight and felt it jerk in her hand. She felt the jerk in her deep, as if it was pulling at something balled up inside her, trying to set it free. The look of her brown hand on his pale flesh made his breathe shallower, and he curled his free hand into a fist. She squeezed his cock in her hand and his hips involuntarily bucked forward. It made her smile.

She wanted to make him see how much she wanted him. But he was so shy, and so completely unaware of how hot she thought he was. She moved her hand away, pressed herself up against him, and before he could do anything, kissed him. His lips were soft and warm and she kissed him gently, at first. He responded tentatively, resting his hands on her hips and opening his mouth to let her tongue in to explore. He could feel her breasts pressed up against his chest. He loved the contrast of how soft they felt, as opposed to her nipples, which were hard little buds pressing into him, teasing him.

She could feel his heart beating against his ribs, but she wanted more. She wanted him to grab her, to kiss her, to fuck her, to make her come. She curled her fingers into his wet hair and kissed him harder.

He grew bolder, moving his hands to her full, round ass, digging his fingers into the brown cheeks, pushing her hips closer to his so that she felt his cock, hot and stiff and leaking, against her stomach. She made a small, lovely sound of surprise at the back of her throat that told him how much she wanted this, how hungry she was for him. That was all it took to set him off. He forgot how ridiculous he always felt when he was naked in front of someone, he forgot how inexperienced he was, he forgot how confused he was over what he felt for her. She was with him, hot and wet and kissing him, and that's all he cared about.

He pushed her against the opposite wall of the small shower and grabbed the bottom of her thighs, hiking them up onto his narrow hips and spreading her legs wide. She was pinned up between him and the wall, so that she could feel the cold tile against her back and his warm chest against her front. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, pouring all his pent up desire, all those nights he'd spent fantasizing about this moment and beating off to her laugh, the way her lips wrapped themselves around a straw, her smile, into that kiss. She tasted sweet, like the rum raisin ice cream she'd had earlier. He skimmed his tongue over her bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth, nipped at it lightly. He moved his lips down to her throat, pressing them up against the slight hollow between her collar bones and leaving a wet trail from there to behind her earlobe.

He moved southward, kissing his way down to the valley between her breasts. At times she would feel the roughness of his tongue and her breath would catch. He pulled away slightly and stared at her chest, and now it was her turn to blush, and she felt the heat spread across her chocolate colored breasts, making her nipples ache in anticipation. He kissed one, took the hard nub into his mouth and smiled when she whimpered. He brushed his tongue against it roughly, sending shivers down her spine; he twirled his tongue around it and moved a hand to her other breast, mimicking the motions of his tongue. He nipped at one nipple while pinching the other, sucked on one while rolling the other between his fingers and plucking at it teasingly, making her arch against him and push his head closer to her still. He moved his lips to the side of her breast and sucked hard, biting down and leaving a mark. She wiggled her hips against the sharp pain, surprised by how much she liked it.

He snaked his arm down between their bodies until his hand reached the patch of dark curly hair. She gasped when he ran a finger over her slick pouting lips and dug her fingers into his back when he slowly, almost experimentally, pushed a finger into her. He pressed in another, and then a third, and then they were thrusting in and out of her, and his thumb was slipping around, looking for her clit and then he found it and she had to bite down on her lip to keep from gasping. He kissed her again, stroking the roof of her mouth and drawing her tongue into his mouth.

He was mesmerized with how wet she was, how hot she was, how she almost seemed to be sucking him in every time he plunged his fingers into her, how her hips rolled so smoothly against his hand. She was crushing her lips against his, pulling him closer to her, roaming her hands across his broad back, relishing in how perfectly in sync his tongue was to the thrusting of his thick fingers. She moaned into his mouth and he could feel it all along his cock. She cried out a weak protest that turned into a pleased sigh when he pulled his mouth away from hers, only to place it back on her breast. He gave her puckered nipple a sharp suck just as he waggled his fingers across her juicy pussy, and that was all it took for her to clamp her eyelids shut and clench around his hand and come with a cry of ecstasy in his ear.

He hadn't thought that it was possible, but she looked even more gorgeous when she was coming. The most exquisite look of pleasure came over her face as she quivered above him, and he marveled at having been able to do that to her.

Her body continued to tremble as her orgasm rolled through her, and then she went limp against him. He had one hand on her ass now, and the other one, soaked with her juices, was on her back holding her up. Something was coming over him, a sense of wonder that he had never felt before. She was panting as he pressed his lips against her eyelids, her temples, her forehead. She laughed when he kissed her nose, but she stopped when she opened her eyes, because he was looking back at her so intensely, as if she were the first beautiful thing he had ever seen, that for a second she forgot where she was and who she was and all she cared about was that he was looking at her like that. He was always so sincere and so serious, so unlike herself. Right then there was no trace of his characteristic awkwardness, only a gaze so steady and earnest that she was startled, and felt more exposed than if she were standing in the middle of a crowded street with no clothes on.

She paused for a second, then pushed his hair out of his eyes and kissed him the way she had at first, softly, trying to tell him with her lips and her tongue what he was doing to her, how he was making her feel things that she wasn't sure she wanted to feel, or was ready to feel. How come he was able to do this to her? How could he make her scared of what she could feel for him, just by looking at her?

He was lifting her up away from the wall now, stepping out of the shower. He made his way toward the door, their lips still fused together, and when her back bumped into it she had to laugh again. He smiled up at her sheepishly and her heart began that ridiculous frenzy of a dance it did whenever he did that. She kissed him again, pulling his tongue into her mouth and sucking on it, making him groan. He fumbled for the doorknob and she smiled against his lips, reaching behind her to easily find it and push the door open.

He stumbled into his room, having to put his hand out to steady himself against a wall when he almost tripped over one of his old college textbooks. Miraculously, he felt, he found the bed through the heavy haze of lust all her laughing had induced in him, and they both tumbled into the tangle of sheets with her beneath him.

She felt as if she could kiss him forever. She loved the feel of his weight over her, the way he pinned her to his bed and how much longer his lean body was than hers, how the rough hairs on his thighs tickled her smooth ones as they writhed against each other. She loved how he smelled, like clean boy and sex. She loved how she was able to make him groan just by running her hands over his chest and make him buck his hips by kissing him a little harder. She loved the way he ran his hands up and down her sides, stopping every now and then to tweak her nipple and make her moan into his mouth.

He put one hand on each of her breasts, palming them roughly, loving how heavy they were and how they yielded to his touch. She sighed when he left her lips and kissed and nipped his way down her exposed neck and licked the undersides of her breasts. The delicious heat was building up inside of her again as he slipped lower still, leaving a trail of wetness on her stomach as he slipped onto his knees on the floor. A pleasantly surprised and eagerly curious smile spread across her lips. She would have thought that he would be too timid and reserved to try this. But the feel of his hands grasping her calves and pulling her to the edge of the bed, the sheets slipping beneath her back and the way he was pushing her knees wide apart told her a different story.

The cool air hit her swollen lips and her scent filled his nostrils, making him even hungrier for her. She propped herself up on her elbows, watching as he kissed his way up her thighs. She could hardly breathe. When he ran his tongue over her lips, her head fell back in a low moan. He did it again, pushing his tongue a little further in. And then he was sucking on her clit and it was all she could do to remember to breathe between all her cries and whimpers of bliss.

She was all senses now: the feel of the air rushing into her lungs as she panted higher and higher, the feel of his tongue as he plunged it into her sopping, trembling core, his moans reverberating over her engorged flesh. Her hips were rolling against his tongue, and then he shoved three of his long fingers into her and sucked firmly on her pretty clit. That was it. She was coming again, arching into his fingers and tongue, a low howl ripping itself from her throat as he sucked and licked at her until the tremors subsided, and she could open her eyes again.

She could taste herself on his lips when he kissed her again, and this one was a slow, intense kiss. It was a wet, grinding, searing kiss that left them both panting and wanting more.

He didn't think he could get enough of her. The noises she made when he did something right, her taste, her smell, the birthmark on the right side of her hip. He wanted more of her, all of her. He wanted to come inside of her. He rolled onto his back, pulling her up on top of him. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed herself up so that she was sitting astride him, one leg on either side of his body.

She looked down at him, spread out beneath her. His hair was rumpled and falling into his eyes again, his grey eyes were dark with lust and longing, and his body was waiting for her to touch him. She reached down, placing her hands on either side of his face, remembering how she'd studied it from afar, even when she'd thought he hated her. She ran a finger down his nose and over his lips, scrutinizing his face up close now, admiring the thickness of his brows and the light stubble on his jaw and how wide those grey eyes really were. He opened his mouth and nipped at her finger and then pulled it in and sucked on it. Her hands were traveling down his chest again, reaching down to his hard, beautiful cock, wrapping themselves tightly around it and pumping him, drawing a groan from him. She felt how heavy it was, felt the distinction between the softness of the skin and the steeliness of the flesh. It wasn't until she bit down on his neck that he actually growled and tightened his grip on her hips, bucking his hips up against hers in a desperate plea.

And then finally she was lowering herself onto him, luxuriating in how wonderfully he was stretching her, how gloriously he was filling her up. And then their hips were connected and the breath was knocked out of her and she had to sit without moving for a few seconds to adjust to his size. It was better than he ever could have imagined. She engulfed him in a tight, wet heat that made his head swim in the most delicious bliss. And then she was riding him and he watched as she rose up and then slid back down the length of him, sometimes in leisurely, steady strokes that had them marveling at the contours of one another, and sometimes in quick, sharp strokes that had her puffing and then grinding against him to catch her breath.

He was enthralled by the sight of his pale dick disappearing into the brown depths of her over and over again. She was palming her bouncing breasts and yanking at her nipples and the most scrumptious sounds were falling out of her mouth, shouts of "yes, yes, yes," peppered liberally with colorful expletives. Her dirty words spurred him on and he thrust upward, meeting her movements and setting a grueling pace. And then he lifted her over him and slammed her down onto his cock, driving it into her. She was coming again, harder this time, her walls clenching around him. He crashed into her, his balls tightening up and his dick spurting inside of her. She slumped against him as the shudders passed over them. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her, kissing the side of her face, loving the sweet sound of the gasps of air she took next to his ear. "Fuck," she said, and it was his turn to laugh weakly, and the tremors of it ran through both their bodies, reaching his still buried dick and making them both moan.

They stayed like that, hugging each other, kissing each other lazily, and rolling around on the bed, murmuring barely comprehensible sighs of satisfaction to one another until they drifted off to sleep.

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