Moving Day

I watched him from the kitchen window. He was saying goodbye to our last moving helper. He had walked him out to his truck and now they were just talking. I was washing and rinsing off plates before putting them in the cabinets while I studied him. His big wide smile still made my heart swell, the way his blue eyes crinkled when he smiled and the scar above his left eye... all those details of his face made me want to touch him.

As I watched, he leaned back against the truck and crossed one ankle over the other. I could see the definition in his tanned calves, and even though I couldn't quite see the soft hair on his legs, I thought of how his legs felt against mine. That is when the tingling began in my stomach, thinking of how he would lay a leg over mine when we were in bed, and rub his leg up and down mine...

He was telling a story, I could tell by the way he was using his hands. His hands were another hot spot for me... they were wide and thick, the marks of working with his hands making his palm a little rough. That brought the memory of his hands on my body, how the roughness felt against my skin. Sometimes he was gentle, and sometimes he was not, and it was all perfect and exactly what I needed at any moment. He knew me that well, we fit together that perfectly.

Standing at the sink, I felt my nipples harden at the thought of his hands on my body. I loved the way they felt running down my bare skin, down my ribs and stomach, how my breath caught and my pussy would tighten in anticipation of his hands arriving between my legs.

I bit my bottom lip, feeling my body responding to only his memory. I exhaled deeply and brought myself back to the moment. My hands were wrinkled from sitting in the soapy water, I had no idea how long I had stood there motionless, lost in his memory. Now I wanted all of the fantasy for myself. I wanted his hands on my skin, his legs against mine, and his weight against me.

As if on cue, he shook his friends hand and turned back toward the house. My heart skipped a beat like a teenager, and I quickly wiped my hands off against my shirt. I nervously touched my ponytail and smoothed the hairs that had flown away. I was exhausted, dirty and gritty from sweating all day, and probably covered in bruises from the move. I didn't care. I just wanted him. I needed him.

I turned to head to the front room, but he entered the kitchen as I turned, "Hey, baby. Man, I need a shower!"

He approached me and gave me a small kiss. I didn't speak, just smiled mischievously. He crinkled his eyebrows, but glanced down. He smiled and I realized I had wiped my hands on my tank top, and now there was just enough moisture to see through my shirt. My nipples were still hard and screaming for his mouth.

"Oh." Was all he said before he stepped to me and covered my mouth with his. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed myself against him. He tasted of salt and fresh air, I sucked lightly on his bottom lip and he nibbled mine in turn.

I arched my back and gently pushed his head down. He lowered his mouth to my nipples and bit and sucked them through my shirt, then pushed my shirt up and continued giving them what they had been yearning for since the window. I pulled my shirt the rest of the way off and dropped it in the floor.

As his mouth worked my breasts, his hands were working on getting my shorts down. Once they were around my ankles, I kicked them to the side. One rough hand ran down my belly and one finger slid right into my wet pussy. I heard myself gasp and then moan, "Brad."

He stood then, hands on my hips, and turned me against the island counter and lifted me to sit on the edge. Without hesitation he lowered himself and buried his face between my legs. His facial hair lightly scratched, but his mouth balanced the sensation. My body felt as if it had been plugged into an electrical socket, my heart was pounding, my skin was hot and tingling, even my hair felt like it was feeling his mouth.

I leaned back on one arm, and put the other hand on his head, holding him to me. His mouth was relentless and when I came, it was fast and hard. I cried out his name, my thighs clenching around his head. When the first wave began to pass, I eased my legs off his head. His mouth still worked, slower and lighter now, coaxing all the pleasure from me he could.

When he stood and leaned into me, I kissed him, tasting myself on his lips. I unfastened his shorts, and in one smooth movement I pushed them down, hopped off the counter top and knelt in front of him.

He stripped his shirt off and leaned his hands on the counter, creating a tent over me with his body. His cock was rock hard when I took it into my mouth. I took all of it, feeling it bump the back of my throat. I could taste the tanginess of his sweat, and smell the light musty scent of him. I could feel how hot it was, I could feel the slight pulsing as the blood rushed to fill it and I wasn't sure how long I'd be able to suck it without fucking it. I wanted it already.

I could hear his moans above me, echoing into the kitchen, and another rush of wanting came over me and I moaned in answer. I moved my head up and down his shaft, one hand stretched up to run through his chest hair, one hand caressing his balls. I squeezed his ass and pulled him into me, and felt one of his hands in my hair doing the same.

I finally couldn't hold out any longer, and it was as if he read my mind. He reached down and pulled me up by my elbows. He kissed me roughly, then turned me away from him and bent me over the counter. Just those motions almost made me cum again, I was so ready and so hot.

He didn't enter me immediately, much to my impatience, but ran his hands over my back and ass, squeezing as he did. He reached up and pulled the holder from my hair and mussed it up, then reached around and squeezed each breast. I heard a whine escape me, like an insolent child being denied her treat. I backed my ass into him, feeling his cock press against me. I whined again.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"I want you inside me. Now. Fuck me now."

Before I had even finished speaking the words, he shoved into me with a force that equaled my need. With every thrust I felt him deep inside me, his balls slamming against my clit. The kitchen was filled with the sounds of our animal noises, grunting, moaning and even what seemed to be growling. I wanted to say more, he loved it when I talked dirty, but I couldn't form the words. I wanted to tell him how good his cock felt inside me, I wanted to tell him how much I wished I could taste it right that moment, I wanted to try and tell him how completely I felt him inside me, how totally he was fucking me.

His pounding never faltered, and when he buried his hand in my hair and pulled my hair as he fucked me, I came again. It exploded in me, I clenched the counter but couldn't move otherwise because I was pinned to the counter. I cried out as the first orgasm began to fade, another took its place. He pumped harder and faster, the orgasms came like a waterfall until I was thankful I was pinned to the counter; otherwise I may not have been able to stand.

My body went limp as he slammed into me. I felt he was close to cumming and found my voice, "Mouth," was all I could manage. It was enough.

He pulled out of me and because he knew my legs were useless, helped me kneel in front of him again. I took him into my mouth greedily, tasting the perfect mix of him and me in my mouth. He moaned loudly as I began moving up and down his cock. I knew he was close when I started, so I attacked his cock with a hunger I can't explain. I had both hands on his ass, pulling him into me as I sucked.

He came fast, growling loudly as he shot his sweet cum into my throat. I swallowed it all and moaned in pleasure. I licked and sucked until all his spasms faded. I looked up at him, standing over me with a look of complete satisfaction and smiled weakly. I sat on my bottom and leaned against the counter. He silently stepped into the next room and brought back a moving blanket. He spread it in the kitchen floor, knelt down on it, and pulled me to him and we laid down.

A bed may have been more comfortable, but wrapped in each other's bodies on that moving blanket, with the sun shining through the window on us was just about as perfect as it could get.