Grant and Irina

"Mm," I sounded in response, and without hesitation switched to his other testicle. Grant's cock was resting over my face, heavy and hot across my nose and forehead. His hands gripped my head and held in an iron grip while I pleasured his sack. I couldn't see his face, but I could feel how hard he was. His cock throbbed against my face.

"Get up," he said suddenly, freeing his balls from my mouth with a wet 'pop'. I did as he asked, eager to step into his arms, but he didn't embrace me. Instead, he turned me around. My breasts squeezed tight on my chest when Grant pressed me against the wall. I glanced cautiously at him over my shoulder.

"What are you doing?

"You've ever been fucked in the shower?"

"I've tried..." I trailed off and bit my lip, "But this isn't going to work. We're both wet."

"I know you're wet."

"You know what I mean," I said, chuckling nervously as Grant pressed against me from behind, showering my neck and shoulders with kisses. "Water isn't exactly lube."

"True," he rumbled, "But that's why I came prepared."

I hadn't noticed him bringing a bottle into the stall. I couldn't see what was written on it, but I could guess. I felt something tense inside of me. Excitement. And worry. "You're still too big."

"Small steps."

"No, seriously," I insisted. "Be careful..."

"I will."

He turned over the bottle and spurted generously into his hand. Moments later the same hand slipping down the crack of my ass, running smoothly all the way down to my sex. I bit my lip. "Smear it out," Grant commanded, roughly daubing the lube over my inflamed sex. "Can't expect me to do all the work. I'll be with you soon."

Still pressed against the wall I awkwardly put my hand between my sex and began rubbing the liquid across it. That part of me already felt incredibly slick. My index and long finger slipped inside of me almost without resistance, sending a jolt of excitement through me. God. Behind me, Grant was slathering his incredibly engorged cock with lube. When satisfied, he dropped the bottle to the floor and lustfully pumped his member a couple of times. I watched him with awe, trembling at the sight of him. Grant grabbed my waist and forced my ass backwards, until I was grinding against him. His cock lodged between my ass cheeks, the purple head peeking up between them. With both of us covered in lube, he slid himself effortlessly back and forth.

"Nice'n slick," he said appreciatively, "What about your pussy?"

"I've... lubed it, I guess."

My breath was already becoming heavier, and my voice was practically a whisper. Grant forced me harder against the wall, pressing his chest against my slender back. I was almost out of the shower head's reach, but I barely noticed the cold. Grant was warm enough for us both. He rubbed his shaft in the cleft of my ass a few times, lazily going back and forth as if to make sure that it was properly lubricated. He parted my legs, forcing them apart with his knee. Then he lowered himself and slipped his cock between my thighs. Fuck. The sheer sensation of his girth sliding along my cunt was enough to make spark fly inside of me. I moaned loudly. Grant's deep chuckle filled my ears, and another shiver passed through my body. Once again I was on fire, burning up in his arms. Grant was running his cockhead between my legs, cockhead brushing across my engorged lips -- between them, teasing my entrance.

"You ready?" he murmured in my ear.

I swallowed. The memory of our last failed attempt was still fresh in my mind. The pain too. But I wanted him. I wanted him so much that it was almost a physical pain inside of me. An itch that couldn't be scratched any other way. As uncomfortable as it was being pressed against the cold wall of my shower stall, something deeply animalistic had taken hold of me. The fear was no longer a concern. Nothing mattered. Nothing but him.

"Yes," I breathed.

Grant bent his knees slightly, angling his cock upwards. His cockhead slid silky smooth between my lips, probing me, snagging my entrance. My body tensed. I expected discomfort -- even pain -- and my body instinctively readied itself for it. Pressing my forehead against the wall I closed my eyes and took control of my breathing. My heart was beating like a hammer. Grant was holding me by the waist, his cock was between my legs. He inched forward. In my mind's eye I could see it happen. The purple head parting my excited labia apart. Between my own secretions and the lubricant, the entrance was flawless. Grant's bulbous cockhead slipped easily inside of me and my cunt welcomed him in a snug but comfortable embrace. My breathing grew quicker again, and again I had to calm it. Grant shifted a bit behind me, giving himself a better angle.

"Ah..." I moaned, feeling him push deeper. "Grant..."

More. His cock was entering me, slowly but steadily, spreading my cunt with each inch. God he was big. I thought I could feel every vein -- ever wrinkle and perfect imperfection and on him as he pushed inside of my body. It was a tight, almost airproof fit, but he -- no, we -- prevailed. I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing on the sensation. Thousands of nerve endings sang in pain-tinged delight. For there was pain, but it was not like last time. This one was just on the edge, gnawing at the pleasure but not overtaking it. I exhaled sharply, letting out a lungful of air I wasn't aware I had been holding in.

"Shh..." Grant whispered, his breath tickling my neck. "You're so good..."

"Mm," I sounded. "Yes..."

"So good..."

He withdrew a little. My body clung tight to him, my pussy puckering around him as his glorious cock slipped backwards as if it didn't want to let him go. I was almost mashing my face against the cold tile wall. Inside I was burning. A fucking inferno. Grant thrust. Lightly, of course, but the two inches or so of cock he had taken from me returned, filling me up again.

"Fuck you're tight," he grunted. "You're so fucking tight..."

"Sorry..."

"Don't apologize, Irina," he interrupted, thrusting again. "Don't you fucking dare apologize..."

I don't know how long we stood there. Looking back at it, it wasn't very comfortable. I had my face and upper body smashed against the wall, while Grant had to keep his knees bent to be able to access me. But I didn't notice any of it. Even though I felt the cold from being out of the hot water, it was only a tiny distraction. Grant was going slowly as he explored my pussy for the first time. He knew he was big, and so he took everything in small, gentle motions to let my body get used to him. I made strange whimpering sounds, balancing somewhere between pleasure and discomfort -- at times they were so tantalizingly close to one another that I couldn't really keep them apart.

But I loved it. Every last second of it. It was only when my feet began to hurt that I forced my face away from the wall and glanced at Grant over my shoulder. He noticed me but kept slowly rocking his pelvis back and forth. We stared at each other, and there was more in our eyes than I could describe. I don't think he heard what I mouthed at him with my breathless voice, but he got the gist of it. Maybe he simply guessed right. He withdrew, his cock slipping out of me with a loud, wet sound. I groaned in annoyance at being left empty. I felt hollowed out, somehow; yearning to be filled again. I straightened myself and awkwardly squeezed past Grant out of the shower stall. Then I knelt -- or collapsed, I am not sure what it was -- on the dark blue bathroom carpet. I was on all fours, my hair a soaked mess around my face, pitch black against my pale back and shoulders. I couldn't see Grant as he exited the stall, and I could see him kneel down behind me. But I felt him. Like a tickle along my spine. I presented my ass for him, lifting it up into the air for his appraisal and enjoyment. My naked body was displayed before him in all of its wet glory. Never in my life had I felt more exposed -- more vulnerable -- than I was at that moment. When his hands gripped me by the ass and roughly pulled me back towards him, my lust-addled brain realized that he could do anything with me. I wouldn't be able to stop him. I wouldn't want to. I was going crazy. If there was any logic or reason left inside of me, it was swallowed up by the all-consuming maelstrom of desire.

Grant's cock slipped down the crack of my ass and down to my sex, pressing against it. My pussy kissed him welcome, and he found my entrance within moments. And then he was inside. A deep, guttural moan erupted from my mouth and into the carpet as my body received him. Moulded itself around him. Grant thrust with a pleased grunt, and another animal sound came from me. His fingers clenched my ass and hips so had that it hurt. Then the sharp smack of his palm against my left buttock made me yelp with pain. The raw red handprint would bother me for days to come. Grant backed up and thrust again, ramming his cock deeper inside of me than ever before. My cunt clenched all around the length of his shaft. A rippling cascade of pleasure burst through my half-mad brain. He filled me up. All of me. Like my body was nothing but a vessel or a sheath for his cock. My throbbing heartbeat was all of me. I buried my face in the carpet, moaning loudly. Grant thrust. A stifled scream came from me. Grant withdrew, and the lips of my pussy puckered like a pink sock around his retreating shaft, desperate to keep him. I couldn't take it.

"Please," I whispered. "Please..."

"Irina..." His hand brushed away my hair, revealing my flushed face. I stared into his eyes.

Grant.

"Fuck me," I said, raising my head. "Please,"

He obeyed. He entered me again, ramming himself deep into my quivering body. I screamed. In pain and in pleasure and impossibly pure happiness.

I wasn't a virgin, of course. We've established that. I like to think that I'd had my share of sexual partners and experiences. But this was far, far different. I guess its redundant to reiterate at this point that Grant was bigger than any of the men I had been with before; he was, and he was so big that it was as erotic as it was intimidating. But that wasn't all of it. That time on the bathroom carpet -- our very first time truly together -- was unlike anything I had even known. Grant was in complete control of me. I am not lying when I say that I was sure that he could have done anything to me right there and then. He was forceful -- yes, but considerate. He was overpoweringly strong, but I had never felt more cared for. I was carried along a razor's edge, balancing above the abyss.

But at some point, something clicked inside me. At first I had been passive: nothing but a completely subservient body for him to use and tend -- too overwhelmed to interfere and content with him holding the reins. But that resignation didn't last forever. I began pushing back, meeting each of his thrusts with an attack of my own. Gyrating my hips to better give him access -- to swallow him up and pleasure myself on his cock. He was still my master and I was his to command, but I had no qualms about taken what I could from him. And I took it. More and more. The noise coming from my throat were incoherent grunts, moans and yelps, mixed with swearing and desperate gasps. I wouldn't be surprised if the whole building could hear me. I wanted them to hear me. Wanted them to know what I had.

"Fuck me," I snarled, barely recognizing my own voice. "Fuck me, Grant."

He laughed, but his laugh was laboured. Without stopping for a moment he leaned over me, supporting himself on one arm and grabbing me tightly with the other, mashing my breasts roughly against my chest. "You've got a fucking bad mouth."

"I don't fucking care," I grunted through clenched teeth. "Just fuck meeeAAAA!"

Grant's hand had moved to my clit. As engorged and sensitive as it was, he really didn't need to do much with it. What he did was that he pressed his fingers against it, rubbing it in circular motions. I quivered at his touch, desperate to stop him but just as desperate for him to keep on it. Seconds later, I came.

It was like had had set off a full pack of dynamite. I exploded in a fiery cascade. It was the strongest orgasm I had ever had in my life. I collapsed on the carpet, mewling and groaning in his strong grip, still impaled on his massive cock. My cunt clamped down so hard around him that it almost hurt, my muscles rippling with hot ecstasy.

I laid panting on the floor, my face in the carpet. My mouth was open, gulping down air like if I was a stranded fish. My awareness returned only slowly, reluctantly appearing from the depths of my being. I blinked. "Shit, Grant."

"Yeah," he said, voice coming from somewhere behind me.

"Yeah. That was... something."

He hummed in agreement. Slowly, as if afraid the last ounces of strength would leave me, I lifted my head. Like me, Grant was laying down, propping himself up on his elbow. His chest was no longer heaving like a pair of bellows, but he was still breathing intently, almost as if he still couldn't get enough air. It gave me some satisfaction to know that he hadn't got out of this entirely unscathed. I sat up, folding my legs beneath me. "Did you cum?"

"No."

I wrinkled my forehead, legitimately confounded by the reply. Grant smiled at me as I tried to process his words. "Why?" I asked.

"You seemed to be having a bit too much fun," he said, touching my leg. I watched him trace the curvature of my calf, enjoying the sensation. Then, inexorably, my eyes were drawn to his pelvis. His cock was still erect, as hard as ever. In fact, it looked so impossibly swollen that it looked ready to burst.

"Why?" I repeated. "Didn't you want to?"

"Oh, I was real' close to it there by the end. With you squirming all over like you did..." he sighed, "almost lost control right there."

I was still staring at his cock. It was throbbing, pulsating between his legs. Long and thick and incredibly large. I could barely believe it had been inside of me. But it had. It was slick with lubricant, and sloshes of white foam was sliding down the shaft. Our combined lovemaking. The pride in my chest was only dampened by my confusion. "But why?" I laid down beside him, nuzzling my face at the root of his cock. My nostrils filled with the smells of our bodies, but I didn't hesitate to give his shaft a long, loving lick. "I'll blow you if you want. You can cum in my mouth."

"That is a tempting offer."

I wrapped my fingers around him -- just beneath the head -- and stroked him slowly. Grant's face creased and he drew sharply for breath. Satisfied with his reaction, I let my tongue run over him again. This it was his underside, from the tip all the way to his balls. I then slowly worked myself back to the front, kissing him straight on. "If you want to. Anything, Grant," I said, and kissed him once again, "Really."

"Oh, I don't doubt it, Irina."

"So what's the problem?"

"I want you to be serious."

"About what?"

Grant gave me a somewhat tired, resigned smile. He pulled his hand through his hair and leaned back on his elbow, watching me intently. I bit my lip when I realized what he meant. God, how could I have forgotten? Although admittedly, my brain was still not functioning properly after that last orgasm. "I see, I said, "Right."

"I'm serious too," Grant said. "So tell me, Irina."

"Wow," I mumbled, sitting up and hugging my knees. "You just unloaded it at me just like that."

"I'm not for beating around the bush. Except if it's yours."

Looking down, I realized that I was offering him a perfect view of my pussy. Visible in between my slender ankles, my freshly fucked rosy-red labia and the bush of black matted hair above had to be framed almost like a painting. A strange feeling of embarrassment came over me, and I crossed my legs instead. Silly, of course -- I realize that. I didn't try to hide my breasts, at least. Grant amusedly slowly shook his head at me.

"You're putting a lot of pressure on me just now," I said a bit louder, trying to cover over my own growing anxiety. "You know that, don't you?"

"Sure," he readily admitted, "But it's important."

I nodded. Then, grimacing, I said, "Could you turn off the water?"

"Hm?"

"Yeah," I gestured at the shower stall. "It's still on. The landlord's going to be up my ass about it."

"He'll have to deal with me then," Grant said, rising to his feet. He rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms over his head, and I couldn't help but to admire the way the muscles played and shifted on his back. Turning off the cascading shower, he added, "I'm first in line."

"The landlord's a she."

"Oh yeah?" he shrugged, "Then lets make it a threesome."

"She's almost 60."

"That's fine. I don't mind mature women."

"Very funny."

"I'm completely serious."

I covered my face in my hands, but the facepalm couldn't wipe the nervous smile away. It kept tugging at the corners of my mouth. I tried to clear my mind. "God damn it, Grant," I said, "You're really something, aren't you."

"Aren't I?" Grant walked up to the sink and washed his face. Checking me over his shoulder, he even splashed at me, and smirked at my surprised expression. Then he opened the bathroom door and walked outside. Butt naked. I shouldn't have been surprised, I guess. Today was quickly devolving into an all-out nudist experience.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"You've got coffee?"

"Yeah, in the..." I began, but he was gone. I was left sitting on the floor by myself. Or not entirely alone. The question he had posed remained with me, and I was feeling very, very odd. Good, but... odd. After a few moments of silent confusion at this new unexpected state of affairs, I got to my feet. I felt sore. In a good, thoroughly and utterly fucked way. I brought my hand down between my legs and winced a little at how sensitive I was. And wet. My pussy was a slick, wet mess. I glanced at the shower, wondering if there would be any point in washing myself off. The sounds of Grant moving about in the kitchen made me reconsider, and I compromised by giving myself a quick rinse with water from the sink. It didn't help much. It got rid of my own essence, and the white froth that our lovemaking had made, but the lube was going nowhere. I felt as slick as ever when I checked myself a second time. In the end, I simply threw on my bathrobe and hurried into the hallway, tying the belt around me on the way.

"Do you have a coffee maker?" Grant asked. He was standing in the kitchen, going through one of the top shelves.

"The shelf to the right."

"See it now. You want some?"

I shook my head, "No, thank you. Don't really drink coffee."

"But you still have a coffee maker?"

"You never know when you get visitors," I shrugged, "I'm more of a tea-drinker myself."

Grant placed the coffee maker on the tabletop by the sink and reached out to grab the kettle itself, "How English of you. You sure you don't have any English blood in you?"

"Russians drink tea all the time," I insisted.

"I guess that's true, too. But with your permission, I'll make myself some coffee."

"Of course, don't let me stop you," I said, kneeling down and grabbing an unopened pack of coffee from one of the bottom drawers, "Although you seem to be already handling it yourself."

"I try to be polite," he said, and he sounded so proud of his own virtue that I actually snorted with laughter.

"I you say so," I said.

"What? You don't believe me?"

"No, no," I said quickly, raising my hands in a display of resigned surrender, "Of course I do."

"You didn't seem so sure," he pressed on, "Should I consider this a questioning of my honour as a gentleman?"

"Sir, I am positively flabbergasted at your insinuations!"