A Stormy Night Pt. 14

And something tells me that it sure as hell won't be the last time.

As soon as I'm done, I brush my teeth then go to the shower, stepping into the water before it even heats up, giving my languid body a chance to wake up. Again, my mind wanders over to what Sandra and I would do in the stall but this time let it, knowing that we'll make many more memories like it in the near future. After scrubbing and rinsing myself down, I turn off the faucets and step out, grabbing a towel from the rack to dry myself. I reenter the bedroom and grab some sweatpants from my suitcase, putting them on just as Sandra walks in, her eyes instantaneously roving up and down my body to reflect mine doing the exact same thing to her, huge keen smiles breaking out on our faces as we drink each other in. I'll never get tired of looking at her, especially now as she wears one of my button-down shirts that's quite large on her as the hem ends mid-thigh, the top three buttons undone so that the swells of her breasts can be partially seen, calling to my reviving cock as I carry on eyeing her.

"Good morning," she greets chirpily, skipping over to me. "You slept like a log, you know."

I grin wider as I say casually, "Really? I wonder why..."

She giggles, and I wrap my arms around her waist as she rests one hand on my shoulder whilst the other strokes my recently shaven jaw. "Hmm... I kinda miss the beard. Gave you an extra hot rugged look."

"Really? Damn it!"

She grants me an incredible kiss that stops me chastising myself right away, and when I sense the unbridled joy radiating from her physique I know that she's also on top of the world.

We break apart and I push her hair back, so very glad that she's here with me. But curiosity starts getting the better of me, and I end up asking, "Who were you talking to?"

She sighs in exasperation and frowns, making me regret asking her. In a soft voice, she says, "My parents, Mrs. Grayson, Jen—basically everyone who was worried sick about me, wondering why the hell I didn't come home last night and why I didn't bother to call."

A frown also materializes on my face as I grasp how everyone is severely concerned about her and the deep shit she's waddling in just for being here. "Shit, baby. I'm sorry I got you into trouble."

"What? No! Don't think like that! You got me out of trouble. Trust me, I'm in this mess because of my own bad decisions."

I nod, suddenly remembering how I found her walking in the storm. "By the way, why the hell were you out in the storm?"

Her eyes dart to the side, unable to look me in the eye, and whilst her cheeks redden at the reason why, my mind puts the pieces together. She was dressed as if she was going out for dinner—to be precise, she was dressed to kill, meaning that there was some guy enjoying her company in a way only I should.

"Oh god! Don't look like you're ready to murder someone!" she exclaims, putting her head in her hands.

But how the fucking hell can't I?! Jealous anger is already blazing with a vengeance inside my chest, annihilating all reason. The thought of Sandra—my mind-blowing Sandra—with some other boy...

"I... left in a hurry from... someone else's house. But nothing happened, okay? I mean, there was meant to be something initially but I—I couldn't. I just... I thought that I could... do something without you haunting my mind for at least one second but... I was just too stupid and naïve to believe it was possible."

That confession as well as her remorseful expression snuffs out my rage in an instant. I get it now. She just wanted to move on from me, to convince herself that she didn't want or need me, so of course she would've wanted to fuck with some guy as the first step to achieve that.

I inhale deeply and say gently, "It's fine, Sandra. I'm not mad at you. I understand why you felt like you had to do what you wanted to do."

Shock emanates from her face at my response. Reluctantly, she says, "For real?"

"Yeah, for real."

Yet again, she smiles but with appreciation this time and then clutches my shoulders to pull herself up for one more kiss. I stoop down to meet her halfway, our lips fitting to each other flawlessly, moving in harmony, and when our tongues touch a thrilling shudder runs down my spine. We kiss and kiss and kiss, causing each other to moan and sigh with happiness, feeling the other's body, steadily awakening it to ardor. But then a terrible sensation decides that this is the perfect time to seize my stomach with a passion, too agonizing for me to just ignore, so then I have to pull back as I understand why.

"Sorry, baby, but with all we've been doing I'm famished for food and I'm sure you are too," I tell her, earning an upset look.

"No... Can't we fuck one more time then eat?" she begs, trying to tug me towards the very tempting bed.

But I stand my ground which fucking amazes me to the very core to be honest. "No we can't. You know we need all the energy we can get to do that. Besides, I doubt we'll ever stop on just one."

She gives up, pouting and crossing her arms in front of her chest like a toddler who was refused their favorite sweet. "Okay fine! I'll go take a shower then."

I grin. "That's a good girl. See you downstairs."

With a parting kiss we head our separate ways, the bathroom for her and the kitchen for me. When I reach it, I get down to work, moving efficiently as I take everything I need together to make breakfast—or the more suitable word brunch. By the time I'm done, Sandra saunters in, looking strikingly invigorated from the shower.

"Just in time," I say as I dish out two plates of toast, fried eggs, bacon and sausage and a couple glasses of orange juice.

Sitting down at the table, she takes the first bite and instinctively shuts her eyes as a low appreciative moan sounds from her, causing me to grin wide with pride.

"Okay. I'm glad you convinced me to eat," she says as she ravenously devours everything.

"I can see that," I say teasingly, laughing when I receive a gentle kick to the shin.

Some seconds go by as we eat in silence, merely getting pleasure in the other's company, smiling at each other like idiots who are very much in love. Even these once boring-as-fuck moments mean so much to me when she's beside me. Is love always like this, or it's special with us?

"I've been meaning to ask you something," she says, disrupting the quiet.

I say, "Sure. What is it?"

"Why didn't you leave when I... rejected you?"

As soon as she utters that question, the brutal memory of our separation kindles in my mind and I nearly choke on my food. The ghost of her slap lingers on my cheek suddenly so I avoid eye contact as I take a much-needed long swig of my juice. I don't speak for a while, a hell lot uncomfortable and pondering over how she would react if I tell her.

"Shawn?" she urges, gentleness ringing crystal clear in her voice.

Sighing, I admit, "I—I didn't know... where else I could... go to."

She doesn't speak, taken aback by my words even though it's really quite obvious. I twirl my fork around on my plate, feeling like I'm having an odd heart-to-heart with a teacher.

But I go on. "All I could think about was you, Sandra. The only future I envisioned was one with you in it. So when you pushed me away I... I felt lost... for good. So I just stayed."

I fall quiet, and she also remains silent, nothing in her expression disclosing the tiniest sign of what's going on in her head. All of a sudden, vulnerability and distress apprehend my heart for some strange reason. I mean, I just told her a plain enough truth, right? Why isn't she replying at all if that's the case? I just need her to talk to me. This fucking suspense is burning me up from the inside out!

Then without warning, she stands from her chair and walks over to me, separating my legs so that she sits on my chair in-between them. She clasps my shoulders, squeezing lightly, and when I finally possess the courage to look directly into her eyes all she shows is her own misery mixed with... delight?

Quietly, almost as if she can hardly talk, she says, "I'm glad you didn't go then."

And all the tension in me turns to dust.

Gripping her hips, I tug her even closer so that all the distance between us is gone, our torsos pressed together, and then gaze into her deep blue eyes for a long moment before touching her lips with mine, massive lust already revolving around us. She lets out a faint moan, her fingers clutching me even harder, and opens her mouth eagerly for me. My tongue slips inside to mate again with hers, tasting the food that is even more appetizing on her, directing each other in yet another time-consuming sensual dance. For a while I forget about everything, my mind cutting out all that hardly matters to me at this point, focusing only on the one thing that's in my arms, not wanting to let it go ever. My hands start to skim over her thighs, from her knees and up underneath the shirt to her waist, and by instinct a proud, sneaky smirk curls up my lips when I don't feel the material of any panties.

"You owe me underwear, you beast," Sandra mutters breathlessly, snuggling into my neck. "I really liked those ones."

I smile against her shoulder as I say, "I would buy you the sexiest ones, but I'm pretty sure I would tear them apart too."

A lighthearted giggle leaves her mouth just before a gasp follows right after when I knead her ass. Curving my hand around her neck, I grant her an intense, meticulous kiss, making us both moan in want as my tongue caresses hers, the syrupy flavor of her making my cock tingle once again. Without thinking, my fingers take hold of the bottom button of her shirt, undoing it and climbing up the line to do the same for a couple others, moving as if I have all the time in the universe with her, and really as long as this storm endures I do. Unfastening the last one, I pull back from her and then deliberately run my fingertips down from the middle of her collarbone to her groin, causing her to shake and sigh softly before I slip my hand under the shirt to push it off one shoulder, my fingers grazing imperceptibly on her velvety skin to bare only one breast whole. It rises and falls slightly to the rhythm of her weighty breaths, as supple and appealing as ever, the rosy nipple gradually stiffening under my study. My eyes flicker up to hers, and she stares at me with a bold request shining deep within her soul to make love to her in the most caring and tender way possible.

And of course, I can't deny her that wish.

With a swift peck to her mouth to answer her plea, I lift up a hand and as subtly as possible brush the back of my fingers against her tit. I witness a wonderful chain reaction occur from that one little motion: her nipple tautening some more then her back arching before her mouth hangs wide open to emit a soundless cry and her eyes drift shut, every cell in her exuding robust longing. Having an abrupt compulsion to watch it happen all over again, I repeat the act over and over, keeping the contact as fleeting as probable, and her body responds in the same manner every single time, her skin glowing to life from the painstaking, pleasurable agony. Pushing off the other side of the shirt so that her other breast comes into the light, I also methodically torture it the same way, doubling the bliss for her. Leaning forward, I set delicate kisses all over her slender neck then collarbone, imitating the movements she made on me earlier today before I go lower towards an awaiting fleshy mound. Cautious not to touch the point yet, I suck it a bit and exult in its plush feel, her sighs above me shoving me over the edge into a seemingly bottomless pit that makes me crave for her satisfaction to the utmost full.

Finally, I consume her nipple in a split second, forcing a stunned gasp to leave her and her fingernails to dig into my skin, small pricks of hurt driving into me only to become coal for my hunger. My tongue gives the pointed end long slow strokes, drawing at it as if I want to scarf it down. Sandra starts to squirm around, her stimulation elevating her higher and higher, sweat sprinkled on her chest already as she attempts to soak in all I'm presenting to her. I eventually release the boob but only to move across to award my attention to the other one, hearing her moan whilst I worship her as she sails on the waves of unhurried carnality I've set her on, willing to ride them as long as she can. With one hand busy fondling her other breast, my free hand slithers down her side to her waist then slide inwards to her navel where the muscles in her stomach quiver enchantingly for a second before it descends into the fuzzy triangle that aims at my ultimate destination.

"Ohhhhhhh..." she lets out a prolonged, great groan and grabs the back of my head as she leaps higher towards the top.

My fingers flit over her pussy lips, feeling the wetness she's already producing, smirking when she throws her head back, basking in my touch, and impulsively bucks her hips forward so that I touch her harder. Getting her requirement, I glide my fingers up and down her slit before slipping first my forefinger then my middle finger, her channel welcoming them wholeheartedly. Her mouth parts wide open at the action and she makes me let go of her breast so that she can place her forehead against mine, letting me observe how my slow guidance is making her crumble into pieces, just as her hand drops in-between our bodies and curves against my enlarging dick, making me fall apart alongside her. I can't help but growl low as she pets my cock through my sweatpants, its material rubbing against the receptive skin in an aggravating yet delicious manner before she slips her hand underneath the waistband and pulls it out, taking up patting me but directly this time, almost making me lose hold on my sanity. I don't know how long we stay like this fondling each other, my cock getting lengthier and broader and firmer by the second, precum dribbling out of the tip as her hand dedicates itself to summon all its glory whilst my fingers explore her amazing cunt, circling and thrusting in and out of her steadily, coaxing the muscles inside to contract and relax alternatively. All I know is that when her eyes flutter open for the millionth time they beseech me to ravish her entirely which is all the permission I needed.

Getting hold of her waist, I lift her off me and she grips the bottom of my pulsing pole, directing it towards her cunt before she comes back down again. We stare down at the place we're merging, my dick joyfully being eaten up by her moist channel, disappearing within her depths until her ass returns on my lap, and she releases a long-held breath as if this is what she's been dying for—which of course it is since I react the same as every thread in my being is celebrating as if it's finally lapping up the coolest, most thirst-quenching water after a thousand years roaming in the desert. I tip my head back onto the backrest, trying my best to keep a good hold of my restraint, and she takes it as an invitation to bless my exposed neck with smoldering kisses, which really doesn't help me with the self-control at all.

"Baby... Fuck..." I whisper, out of breath, but don't say anything more—can't say anything more—so damn conflicted as whether I want to stop her or encourage her instead.

Her kisses don't cease as she heads down to cherish my chest, her lips leaving warm ghosts of where they've been. After some time, I think that I've finally gotten my impulses in check but then she begins to move, making me think twice about that. A resonant growl exits my mouth as she gracefully ascends then descends on me even as she goes a little too fast for me to handle, but a second later she slows down to the speed I desire as if I told her to do so, and that makes an appreciative grunt leave me also. She mewls gently as she rides me, the pretty sound causing me to free-fall faster in the void, the thrill of when I'll hit the bottom charging up my body substantially, and I raise my head to look at her, our link reinforcing into steel as we regard each other. Her hands don't seem to know where they should be, flying from my chest to my arms to my shoulders to my sides to my neck and back again, and she looks like she might pass out from this extensive, sweet, heated lovemaking (that's if I don't beat her to it). Raising a hand, I tuck one side of her cascading hair behind her ear, loving how the silky, lustrous waves slink around and between my fingers, and then hold one side of her face before depositing a mild, meaningful peck on her mouth. Her eyes close once more and she leans forward to support her head on my shoulder, her breath coating my ear as she pants and whimpers while her scent which is amplified by the sex becomes so full-bodied and potent that I'm instantaneously addicted to it. I reach behind her to trace her spine with my fingertips, causing shivers to break out in her body, but am prohibited halfway since she's still wearing the shirt. Instead of making her take it off, I go under it and resume the trip, moving down until I touch the crack in her ass and then cup one cheek, clutching it to properly feel its roundness, rising and falling with it. She moans at that motion, faltering a little in her rhythm but promptly recovers, grasping me tighter. The walls of her pussy are so slick as they steadily hug my cock, letting me glide within her so well, and my balls expand like nothing else, ready to shoot all my cum into her.

I think this is our most intimate fuck yet as she moves at an unhurried tempo, whimpering and mewling as if she's experiencing the most sensory massage (which she undeniably is) whilst I embrace her as if there isn't one better thing to have right now (which is unquestionably true). Our bodies cherish the other so conscientiously, coaxing so many ecstatic moans and cries from us, whilst our psyches are perfectly attuned to the other's wants and needs, and our souls... shit! They're welded into one, the hotness of the sex ensuring that we could never even dream of being apart, spinning around like a monster cyclone, mounting higher and higher, transcending the upmost apex of excitement as usual, and we're so close... we're just so close I can almost touch it, and the wait is simply draining all the energy I may have left.

"Oh, Shawn..." Sandra murmurs into my ear, and the amount of need and glee that in her tone is what makes me able to slam into the floor of the chasm at long last.

I violently begin to come, my climax the trigger for hers as she lets out a short cry whilst my arms enclose her still moving body and I screw my eyes shut, taking tremendous pleasure in being crushed into a pulp by divine euphoria. Her cunt smothers my juddering cock with so much love, convulsing endlessly, and the sensation makes me lose all feeling in my limbs, multiplying the contentment hundredfold. My head spins as if I've been performing cartwheels for hours, evidently shaken by the severity of our orgasms, and my lungs clamor for a single breath of crisp air, but as I note how she isn't breathing also I can't even conjure up the will to gratify them, temporarily a slave to the moment. I swear that millennia pass before we finally break partially free from our orgasms' spell as she sags against me, wheezing and gulping in air greedily as I groan into her shoulder, generously replenishing my body with terrific oxygen.