Ask & Ye Shall Receive

I bet you've never been pinned against a wall. Judging from the look on your face when your naked shoulders hit the cold sheet rock behind you, I'm right. It's cold in contrast to your skin, which, if your thighs are any indication between my own, is hot. You take a hissing breath and exhale it against my throat, "Shiitt."

My hands make quick work of the barrier those boxers and shorts provide. When I slide into the wetness beyond, it's my turn to hiss, "Ahh damn, baby."

Your tongue, tracing my ear, pauses just long enough to moan, "Your fault," just before it flicks against my bottom lip and I open to taste it for the thousandth time. You groan as my circling finger finds its intended target and your hips insistently thrust against my hand.

I press my left hand against the wall behind you and pull my body away from you to watch your hips roll, "You are so fucking hot right now," I snarl against your mouth.

There's the slightest suggestion of humor in your eyes when you challenge me, "If you don't end this soon I'm gonna get mean."

A slow, wicked grin emerges, "Oh yeah?" My finger stops, "Show me."

You shake your head slowly before tilting it back against the wall, "Don't, baby. Please."

I lean in closer, my ear just a little too close to your mouth, "What was that?"

You grab my head and whisper loudly, "Fuck me, Savi," just before you grind hard against me and thrust your tongue into my ear. I ignore the shiver in my own body and focus on yours.

Not one to deny a begging woman, I slide a finger on either side of your clit and let them disappear inside you. Feeling you open and how you fit around my fingers, I am acutely aware of how much I want you. In, out, in, out, my fingers and tongue move at the same pace but in two different places.

Your breath, which you'd been holding every other thrust, is now coming in short, quick, deep bursts. The occasional grunt belies your earlier insistence that you don't groan. The corner of my mouth turns up when I remember how fervent you were about that and as I watch your eyes close just before you kiss me deep and hard, I have never been more proud of proving you wrong. The tightening inside you tells me you won't mind.

You arch hard against me and open your eyes. It's now that I realize I want you to say my name when you cum. I press your head against the wall with my left hand and whisper, "I want you."

Something melts inside you because you get the slightest bit wetter. You swallow hard and whisper back, "I want you, Savannah."

The grin that tries to spread across my face is eaten by the smile of yours that devours it in a kiss that's hot and wanting. Both of your hands are in my hair now and you grit your teeth as you press your forehead to my own. Your breathing is erratic and unpredictable. When I flick my thumb against that most sensitive part of you, your gasp and shuddering body tell me it won't be much longer.

"Ah, shit, Sav," you press your body fully against the wall, your mouth watering, your back arched, and you are the hottest thing I can remember laying my eyes on in a very, very long time.

Those caramel colored eyes close one last time as I feel your stomach tremble against my own and I lean in to let my lips flutter against yours, "I want you..." I pause to let you take a sharp breath, "to cum hard for me."

Quickly, you whisper back, "I am. Oh, God, I am."

I close my eyes and keep talking, knowing it makes you quiver just a bit more every time, "This is it, baby." My thumb flicks, flicks, and flicks once more, "Oh yeah," I feel you tighten and your hands, now resting on my hips by grasping handfuls of my shirt, pull me into you, "come get it, Mel."

You groan in one long, continuous breath, "God." As your back arches for the last time, your body opens, pulling my fingers deeper, and you gasp at the delicious invasion, "Fuck yeah." The end of that last word, taking on the high-pitched sound of a prayer more than an actual word, makes me wetter.

When the orgasm takes over, you exhale loudly and, knowing you might be a little louder than your ego wants you to be, I cover your mouth with my own. I don't expect your lips to make moves that are planned or coherent, so when your tongue traces my lips even in the midst of your orgasm, I am pleasantly surprised that it makes me even hotter. I moan my appreciation as your body relaxes and your tongue doesn't stop, "Ahh you're bad."

Your lips curve as your body adjusts to the lack of my fingers, "And you're addicted."

You press those lips against mine and I wrap my arms around you before smiling, "Yeah? Well, you're pretty hooked yourself, baby."

In a voice that's just slightly different than any other day, but with a body heat that is certainly not the same as any other day, you reply, "I never said I wasn't," just before pulling me into your bedroom.

Once the door is shut, you reach for me again and before I know it, my shirt is gone, though I just barely notice, "Yes, but you never said you were, either."

In typical "Mel" fashion, you flick your finger over my nipple and whisper against my lips, "You never asked."

My head drops back and I can't stop the low chuckle, "Ah.. fuck you."

As your fingers slide themselves into a place that indicates they believe in turnabout being fair play, you smile against the curve of my neck. I can't stop the giggle when you murmur, "You already did. It's my turn now."