Self Control

It was late. Too late. Too late to be over there, too late to walk home. All the buses had stopped hours earlier, and she hadn't left. It was far too late for her to be at his house watching movies, but neither of them said anything about it. She was fairly certain that he had arrived at the same conclusion she had, that the less said about it, the better. It was only a movie, true, but it was three in the morning, and they were alone. That in itself frightened her, because it is always frightening to experience something dreamt of, fantasized about, and longed for. In scenes in her mind she had played this part before, and knew how the scene ended, and the knowledge made her shiver with despair, with desire.

She tried to snap herself out of it, took a sip of water and focused back on the glowing screen and the film in front of her. The leading lady had just left her house and was walking towards her car, wind moving her skirt and leaving tendrils of hair streaming down her neck. Breathtaking. "Wow" she said to no one in particular "what I wouldn't give to have legs like that! That woman is infinitely doable."

"Negh" said her companion from the other side of the couch "her face looks odd, and besides, how could I notice her with you in the room?" He beamed with exalted pride in his own cheesy line, then braced for the inevitable smack and she grabbed the nearest pillow.

"Oh that's it!" she cried, smiling from ear to ear "I thought I learned you not to be such a smart ass last time, but clearly, I need to teach you again!" With that she flew across the couch and started wholloping him senseless with the cushion, giggling and flailing wildly as he impotently tried to escape her assault. But soon the battled had turned and he grabbed the pillow from her, his arm reaching around her back to get the other two behind her as a safety measure. It was only at this time did she notice how close they had come, breathless and glowing from laughter and mock fighting. His arm around her shoulder, her chest just inches away from her, their faces practically touching.

Instantaneously the laughter and smiling died, their innocence replaced by something far darker and more powerful. Sensing this too, he looked at her, his chest still rising and falling heavily from battle. Their eyes met, and something passed between them. Internally she felt a stab of pain as the last vestiges of propriety fled, leaving nothing else in the room to safe guard her from those eyes and the mounting energy pulling her ever closer to them. There was no turning back, no stopping what had been set in motion. As afraid as she was, her mind raced with every thought she had ever had, every day dream and fantasy, the way she imaged his lips would taste and his hair would smell. One staggered breath followed another, and the oppressive heat around them weighted her down, made it somehow impossible to move an inch. But she could still feel it, the connection, the lust between them, and the mounting longing between her legs became a physical torment.

He looked like he might hurt her, break her with his need, the expanse of his height and frame dwarfing her small body. His eyes burned and he radiated heat, and she was certain that if he chose to take her she would have little chance of stopping him. This thought terrified her, not by it's violence, but by how deeply she desired it. She wanted him on her, pressing tightly into her, dominating her and forcing himself upon her. She wanted to feel trapped beneath him, no recourse but to abandon herself to the helpless pleasure of it. But he didn't force her, didn't throw her down and take her. As gentle as a lamb, he lifted one hand to her face and brushed her cheek with his fingers, trembling as he did so. Her eyes closed, and a new, more horrible need overcame her. Not simply to be possessed by him, but to be loved by him as well.

She felt ashamed of her need, her lust, and of the terrifying intensity of it. His gentleness shamed her, his mute and self-conscious appeal to her, not for the raw carnality she had wanted, but for tenderness, made her flinch at the thought of her own base desires. Eyes still closed, a tear fell down her cheek and landed on his hand. The heated and frightening energy of the moment now dissipated, he brought her shaking form close to him and held her as a more tears fell. Neither said a word, he just wrapped his arms around her like a blanket and let her rest of his chest until the trembling stopped.

After a few minutes she looked up at him, sadness brimming from the deep brown of his eyes, lids heavy and exhausted. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly, curling in a little closer by way of an attempt at comforting him. "Um hmm" he lied, barely loud enough to be heard. "I've hurt him" she thought, her self-disgust mounting higher. "I can't bare the thought of it. I bring this upon him, time and again, and he still has it in him to worry about me, to take care of me, no matter what it costs him to do it. I'm so selfish! And I would have hurt him again tonight by giving in to my lust, by making something cheep out of this. God, why can't I do the right thing?"

The tension, the rising sensuality and longing now evaporated, they were left in the cold of the basement holding each other, separated by their own thoughts and worries. But she wouldn't let it end like that, she couldn't. He had given her so much and all she had offered was nothing. Looking up at him again, she met his eyes and let her gaze linger there. Looking into each other's stare, she reached up and touched his face much as he had done to hers, and rose slowly forward towards him.

He looked as though about to speak, but her hand cupped around his chin and brought their mouths closer together. Eyes closed, she leaned forward into his lips, pressing them with her own. There was no charge of electricity, no burning lust, just a warmth that spread from his flesh onto hers and traveled lazily down her spine and into every part of her. Wanting it to last, wanting it to heal all the hurt she had caused, she let the kiss continue, her lips making slow sipping motions at his, pulling the kiss deeper. His arms wrapped around her gently, but his hold upon her was forceful, strong. It felt safe and good. She let one hand caress his back while the other ran fingers through his hair, bringing herself even closer to him in the process. Her lips parted a little, barely at all, and his responded in kind, the warmth traveling through her amplifying into a heat that resembled the fiery lust that coursed through her earlier, but bore none of its terror or intensity. She was flushed with the warmth of his touch, his kiss, and her breath came slow and strong as the kiss deepened, taking in as much of each other in as they could.

His tongue, toying with hers, reseeded back from her as he broke off the kiss, pulling himself backward enough to focus on her face, her eyes. He looked at her as though waiting for an answer, but she didn't have one. She couldn't have said why she did it, or what it meant, or what would happen now. "Are you okay?" she asked again, trembling. "Yes" he replied, "are you?". She wasn't sure. She was afraid of what would happen now. It was late, and the busses had stopped running. How do you gracefully run away? Or, alternately, how do you utterly avoid the questions and keep going? Which one did she want?

"I'm okay" she whispered. "I like this. Regrets?"

"None"

"I have no idea what I'm doing"

"Neither do I" he said, pausing for a second before asking "this wont ruin anything will it?"

"No. I don't want it to. I'm still scared. I don't want this to change anything; I just thought that it should happen. Felt right."

He looked a little sad, and she felt a little sad. Wanting the sadness to go away, she kissed his cheek, tiny little kisses darting from one inch to the other. "Sorry" she offered "this can stop now, if you want" He closed his eyes and shushed her, then placed his hand behind her neck, bringing her to him again.

This kiss had more hunger behind it, more need. She kissed him hard, feeling her lips bruised against his, and the roughness of his chin scratching hers. His fingers tangled into the hair at the base of her neck, as her hands moved forcefully up and down his back and shoulders. Her desire rose again, welcomed now, fed by the pleasure of the kiss. As they continued, he leaned back, pulling her down with him until she was lying on top of him, legs straddling his waist, chest to his chest. The kissing and the touching were frenzied now, hands stroking, nails scratching, nibbling and biting his bottom lip as he fondled her hips and ass, forcing her harder upon him. She moved her mouth to his cheek, then neck, pulling at the deliciously sensitive flesh with her lips, suckling and kissing, breathing in the intoxicating scent of his skin. Beneath her, she could feel him grow hard, his erection digging into her leg. Painfully aware of her own desire, of the heat and wetness and pressure of her sex, she shifted her weight and brought herself down squarely onto his cock, his hardness pressing into her exquisitely.

Still clothed, she began to move her body hard against his, gasping for air and crying out with need and frustration. She wanted him, wanted to feel his cock pressed into her sex, feel it enter and part the insatiable heat and moisture of her, feel him fill her and pump himself into her over and over. She wanted to ride him hard, pulling herself off of his hardness and then drive him back into her, again and again, wanted to feel him deep inside of her as she came, tightening and convulsing around him. It was maddening, and painful and wonderful.

She continued to move against him, sitting up now so that he could fondle her chest. Both lost in the spell of the pleasure, any other thoughts were banished. God! She wanted to cum so badly! She was so close, she could almost feel the tightness and cold, fire-like sensation creeping up her muscles and skin. His eyes burned with intensity, his mouth opened slightly, the fullness of his bottom lip pouting seductively as his gasped for air. Looking at those lips, she realized what she wanted, what she needs to do to fulfill the dizzying, maddening need between her legs.

Taking his hands away from her breasts, she leaned down and kissed his chest, trailing kisses further down his torso. She shifted her self ever so slowly downward, stopping at each button of his shirt to undo it with her teeth. Lingering at the softness of his belly, she kissed and nibbled him while finding the rigid peek of his hardon straining against the fabric of his pants. With one hand she rubbed him, feeling the hardness and the thickness of it, shuddering in anticipation, while with the other undoing the belt and fly. Loosening the belt, she slipped her hand into his pants, and heard him gasp in pleasure as she stroked him. As gracefully as she could, she removed his pants, hauling them to knee length while continuing to kiss and fondle him. She pressed her face close to his sex, breathing in both the scent of his arousal and hers, her wetness having covered him as she rode his erection.

She kissed and licked playfully at the shaft of his cock and at the head, feeling him shudder and writhe each time. It was beautiful, wonderful, and the raw masculinity of it drugged her. God it felt good! Moistening her lips with her tongue, she moved upward and pressed her lips against the head, then slowly took it in her mouth. It tasted wonderful! She ran her tongue along the tip and down the center as she ever so slowly moved her head down and up, suckling and rubbing it as she went.

Each time she lowered herself onto it, she took a little more in her mouth, felt herself filled with him, heard him groan and sigh deliriously. Her tongue flicked back and forth along the head and curved alone the shaft, serpentining loosely at every crevasse. Her hands moved up and down it, occasionally toying with his balls. The more she tasted him, the wetter she became, the more she wanted to feel him inside her. It would be so easy! It would feel so good to simply lift herself on top of him and have him thrust into her! The thought alone verged on orgasm. But what traces of a conscious remained to her kept her from taking him inside of her, and with no other outlet for her desires she took still more of his cock into her mouth, tongue caressing wildly, pleasuring him with wild abandon.

With one hand she stroked and played with his erection, and with the other she began to reach below herself and under her dress. He was gasping, moving his hips in time with his suckling, his eyes closed in agonized pleasure; she was certain he'd never notice where her hand was or what it was doing. God, she wanted to cum so badly! She laid two fingers against the soaking fabric of her panties and pushed them to one side, finding the cleft on her sex and moving them into herself. It was so hot, so wet! A gasp of pleasure escaped her lips as she found her clit, distracting her from the steadily increasing arousal of her partner. As she rubbed him, kissing and sucking and licking him closer and closer to climax, she fingered herself furiously and played with her clit.

She was so, so very close to cumming, she could feel it building inside of her. She wanted it so bad! Just as she thought she could take no more, just as she was contemplating throwing caution to the wind and lowering herself onto him, feeling him fill her, his back arched and grew rigid. His legs stiffened, and the staccato rhythm of his breathing peeked into a moan of absolute ecstasy. "Oh God" she thought, "he's cumming!". The idea of it did something to her, something she could not explain. Fire began at the tips of her fingers, nipples, and her clit, and spread deliciously slow throughout her entire body. The finger still buried knuckle deep within her was suddenly forced out of her by the contractions of her pussy as she shuddered and shivered into orgasm.

As this was happening, he climaxed. A small taste of salt was followed by a flooding of tart sweetness, like over ripe wild berries in a garden. It filled her mouth as he, unable to control himself, forced himself as deep into her mouth as he could go. There was so much of it, and the sensation of him cumming into her mouth only made her own orgasm harder, more wonderful.

As is rolled off her tongue and down into her, she let the flavor linger, letting it drug her. They lay there for a little while, her face pressed against his stomach, his hand stroking her hair gently.

"Are you okay?" she asked, sleepily, unable to process what she should do now, what was expected of her.

"Yeah. You?" he responded

By way of answer she lifted herself upwards so that was lying beside him on the couch, her arm draped across his chest, her head nestled into the hollow of his shoulder. She wasn't sure where it came from, but he found a blanket and pulled it over both of them, and nothing in the room besides their eyes and the white blue nimbus of the TV screen broke the darkness. She wasn't sure what had happened, now that it was over, but she felt at peace, felt whole. She probably should have gone home, gone home hours ago, but she didn't. She lay there, wrapped in darkness and stillness and his arms, and she'd stay there until she had no other choice but to go again.