The Awakening - Jane Pt. 06

I pouted a little. My gaze drawn back to his loins.

"Its fine." I said. "I can tell. Call it...women's intuition."

His head was tilted thoughtfully to one side as he looked at me.

"Is your intuition always right Jane?"

My stomach flipped at that moment, and I found myself biting my bottom lip for a moment, before I could even reply softly...

"Its never wrong."

He looked at me and smiled. And the air seemed to close in on me. That ominous heaviness like just before a thunder storm. He poured himself a drink, his gaze never leaving mine. I saw his eyes narrow slightly, a question of his own lingering on the tip of his tongue...

"Does size matter Jane?"

Oh god. That question. The elephant in the room in almost every marriage.

"That's a difficult question to answer Charles." I lied evasively. "What do you think?"

He was still standing before me. Glass in hand as he pondered his response for a moment;

"Size matters." He stated confidently. "If you tell me it doesn't, I'll think you're either lying to yourself or you never had any." His smile widened a touch. "Male intuition."

I couldn't help but smile back. Taking a sip of my drink to buy my addled brain a moment to recover. He was right of course. Of course he was. It was the assured, measured insight only a man truly confident in his own endowment, and able to appreciate the effect his size had on women, could give.

I merely nodded, unable to find the words. So he continued...

"I know...'the look'."

"The...look"? I finally croaked. I was spellbound.

He nodded.

"Its a flash of curiosity behind the eyes...an inquisitive, coy smile."

He paused to take a sip.

"Women rule the world Jane, but I haven't met one yet who can hide what they are thinking. Your body language betrays you every time."

I still couldn't speak. I sat still, gripped by this insanely sexy man stood before me. Lifting my glass to take another sip as I gazed up at him, I realised I had drained it. So all I could do was smile, offer my flute to him and breathe...

"Refill Mr Barman...please."

He smiled. His voice thick as he spoke.

"So that's what I think. You however..." He leant closer and topped up my glass once more. His voice dropping to an intimate whisper; "You, still haven't answered my question."

Gazing up at him and brushing the rim of my glass against my bottom lip.

"What was the question again?" I giggled.

He held me with eyes. A cocky, almost arrogant look. It made me melt. I had already found myself instinctively being quite coy and coquettish around him. No man had ever made me squirm like this, or feel so absolutely and sublimely feminine.

I smiled. "Ok...ok. So...do I think size matters..." I inhaled deeply. My heavy, full breasts lifting up gently under the bubbling water. I couldn't help but let my gaze fall once more to his thong. And moaning slightly...I spoke with a slight tremble in my throat;

"You do know...what an incredibly unfair question this is, right now?

I heard him chuckle; "Oh?"

I grinned.

"Well, yes...if you expect me to remain impartial when I'm being presented with such compelling evidence...so...blatantly."

I heard him chuckle again, and then I felt his strong hand gently slide under my elbow...lifting me and guiding me to my feet until I was stood, my large breasts brushing against his muscular chest. My eyes locked on his. My hand was resting on his forearm, and I made no attempt to move it. I was suddenly aware I had stopped breathing.

"Better?" he asked softly.

"A little" was all I could muster. I was sure he could hear my heart thumping in my chest. It was deafening me.

"So..." he whispered softly. "Back to the question."

The closeness of our bodies, and the intimacy between us was driving me insane. The sun was setting so beautifully over Charles shoulder, and yet I saw none of it. To be honest, if the sun had burst into flames, I doubt I would have noticed. My body was beginning to ache with unbridled arousal again. My mind was swimming, my senses overloaded. And here I was...being asked that question. Where to even begin. I took a slow breath in, and tried to gather my thoughts. Gazing into his eyes, it was almost impossible to concentrate. Just as I was about to answer, he interjected softly.

"Oh Jane...I'll know if you're lying." His eyes serious, but smiling.

I gazed back at him, and without thinking, whispered softly...

"This is the first time I wont have to."

And the reality of my admission startled me. I think every lover I'd ever had, had asked that same question, in some way. Some directly...some indirectly. But always seeking the same answer. Even you. And in the past, my answer had always been borne out of necessity, and compassion. I could rattle it off in my mind verbatim...'No baby, its not how big it is, its what you do with it'.

I felt him shift. My breasts mashing against him as the distance between us vanished. As our bodies met, his strong thighs touched mine, our bare skin, warm and soft. I felt his hips lightly brush mine. And then I felt his crotch...his huge manhood, barely concealed beneath that skimpy cotton press gently against my soft mound. I thought I might faint. It felt wonderfully voluptuous. Like a wall of thick, hot flesh.

My lips parted and a soft gasp escaped from between them. He looked deep into my eyes, and I could see the swirling lust and desire burning behind them. And they took my breath away. But not before the words left my mouth in a soft hurried whimper...

"Fuck yes Charles...size matters."

I felt myself spun around, facing away from him. My breath catching in my throat as I gazed out into the darkness.And then his hand slid ominously through my thick, silky mane, his strong fingers flexing, and fanning out before slowly closing around my curls. The tips of his fingers grazing my scalp as he gently, but undeniably exerted his hold over me. I had never realised my scalp could be such an erogenous zone, but the sensation was magical. I inhaled deeply, as his thick digits tightened around my auburn locks. His brooding presence looming behind me, but no longer touching me. I missed his body already.

But I already knew this man would be extraordinarily talented lover. Just from the way his hand gripped my hair. The way he blended such absolute strength and confidence with such gentle sensuality...He held me still. The balance was perfect.

My eyes closed, and I felt my body begin to respond to his overwhelming manliness. This man wouldn't make love to me. Neither would he merely fuck me. He would do both of those things and in the process...he would both ruin and claim me.

I remained perfectly still, like a porcelain figurine in his grip. The only movement from either of us, was my heaving chest. Rising and falling heavily as my breathing quickened. The playfulness with which we had been flirting, which had now spilled over to him running his hand through my hair was rapidly ebbing away and the atmosphere changed. The air around us now seemed to shimmer and crackle with the electricity of our sexual chemistry. I felt him, all around me.

And when he finally touched me, I cried out. An anguished wail, borne of pure lust filled ecstasy. He had chosen to touch me on my very weak spot. It was as though this man was the author of my sexual blueprint and knew exactly where and how to touch me. And as his full lips, rasped softly over the nape of my neck, and as my haunting cry left my body, my face grimaced through sheer pleasure. It was so good, it bordered on being painful. Because, this man obviously knew about friction. And about the effect dry lips against dry skin has on a woman.

He was slowly driving me insane. His parted lips would graze my flesh, slowly puckering and sealing together; capturing a crease of skin between them as they did so. And sucking gently...for what felt like eternity before my flesh slipped from between his talented lips. My loud cry had now become a low, guttural, primal groan. This man was orchestrating and drawing the most incredible sounds from me. Sounds I never knew I could make.

His touch was different to any other mans I'd ever known. He was like a tornado. A terrifying, raging, spitting maelstrom of sexuality and masculinity. And yet he corralled, and harnessed all that sexual power; channeling it through his touch, which was so gentle and sensual, that I felt all of his forceful, brooding, intense passion swirling inside him in the mere sweep of his fingertip over my skin

His strong hand was still holding me by my hair, firmly, but not painfully. And I felt him gently tilting my head to my left, exposing more of my soft, elegant neck to his mesmerising lips as they continued to explore me. Planting the softest of butterfly kisses down to my shoulder...and then back to graze along my jawline. His warm breath, prickling my sensitive skin in anticipation of those lips, so full and soft, nipping and nibbling the very spot and sending shivers racing up and down my spine.

I was panting now. My heavy breasts rising and falling, and I had a surge of desire to kiss him. I wanted to taste him. I needed to feel his tongue deep inside my warm, willing mouth. To give myself to him. And he felt all of this, because the moment I attempted to turn my head...to seek his lips with mine, he tightened his grip on me. And held me, head tilted back. And I moaned again. No man had ever held me so spellbound before. In all of my previous sexual relationships, I had tended to emerge as the dominant one, but now...with Charles...I was just putty in his talented hands.

To my eternal shame, you were nowhere in my thoughts. I was so high on this man, so hungry for him. He was all I could think about in that crazy moment.

And just when I thought it couldn't get any better, I felt his body slowly pressing against me once more. His chiselled chest and stomach, pushed against my back. His thighs...so ribboned with muscle...eased against the backs of my legs. But what nearly tipped me over the edge, was the sensation of that hugely thick cock, bowing dangerously against that tight thong, as he rocked his hips downwards, and then slowly...so slowly...ground himself against my full derrière. His massive slab of cock flesh was sandwiched between my bikini clad cheeks and as he rose up, flexing his hips into me, his entire length slid up along the lengthy cleavage my fleshy buttocks created. Starting with the thick base and letting me feel every single inch until the swollen, engorged crown had ascended to the peak.

He paused for a moment. Lifting his cheek against mine. I was beginning to feel his power, ebbing and flowing around me and I was starting to grind back against him. His fingers still held my head absolutely still but I could feel his stubble graze the skin on my neck as his lips found, and captured my right ear lobe. My face screwed up again and I forcibly exhaled my first intelligible words...

"Ohhhhh fuuuuuuccck Charles!"

I sensed a smile. His lips creasing as they teased that sensitive bit of flesh. And then...another cry as the tip of his tongue lashed against the shell of my ear. Searching and exploring it. My mouth fell open again. Just as his free hand slowly snaked up my inner thigh. Just a single finger. Barely touching me. But the feather-soft touch was heavenly. It was as though my whole body was on fire. All my erogenous zones were screaming at me as he expertly stroked them, one after the other.

His finger continued on its merry way, softly tracing the crease between my hip and thigh. The very tip nudging just beneath my soaked bikini bottom. I knew how wet I was. It was obscene. Charles had me so wet, my juices had soaked through the cotton, were slick and coated my inner thighs. And for his trouble, his index finger bathed and steeped itself in my arousal as he curled the tip, gathering a lovely, sticky sheen which he slowly and deliberately presented before my very eyes.

I just gazed at that wonderfully long, thick finger. The tip glistening in the low light of the moon and the boats lighting. Charles was alternating his attention on my ear from gentle nibbles with his teeth, to hungry sweeps of his tongue. And they were making me crazy. I had never felt so turned on in my entire life. The lust and arousal I was experiencing was breathtaking. It made me feel dizzy. I suspected I would climax the moment he touched my pussy. I wondered if I'd cum before that. Just from the things he was doing to me, the way he was pushing every single button I had, and the way he was finding buttons I never even knew I had.

His grip on my hair tightened a fraction and I remained still. The urge to unfurl my tongue and sweep it over and around his finger remained just that, and I obeyed his subconscious command to be still.

Just to add to my torment, his hips began to grind once more against me. Only downwards this time. So that swollen crown pushed majestically between my cheeks...feeding every long, thick inch along that snug cleavage. I closed my eyes as a wave of tingles softly cascaded down from my head to my chest. My eyes closing at the otherworldly feeling. I had just experienced what I can only describe as my first ever mindgasm. It felt like a feather had stroked the inside of my mind and for a few moments, everything went black.

When I regained my senses, I could only croak...

"Oh...Charles."

His finger silenced me. The thick, fleshy tip pressed lightly against my full, bottom lip. My panting began and I heard what I can only describe as a feline mewing escaping me as he slowly and sensuously coated my lips with my own pussy juices. Liberally applying it like a sumptuously decadent lip gloss. And I closed my eyes and lost myself in this incredibly erotic act. Deliberately puckering my lips, rolling and smacking them together. Feeling his finger painting me with my own lewd arousal, of which he, and he alone, was the architect of.

And then his finger was gone. But not for long, as I felt it lightly circling my delicate collarbones. Once, twice...three times. And then it was being drawn down. Down to the tops of my full breasts. And bigger circles. Again, three of them. Barely touching me, but I felt his immense power in the restraint of his touch. And then, he drew that finger along and over the curve of my right breast, snaking it over the string strap and down my side, his thumb brushing the swell of flesh that my skimpy bikini was unable to contain.

I groaned again. I felt those tingles collecting in my head once more. Deliciously just out of reach. He was lazily drawing his fingers up and down my side. Until eventually his hand replaced his long digits, and his large palm was patiently beginning to explore the underside of my large breast. It was delicious. I knew he was aching to devour them as much as I needed him to, but his self control was just adding to my bliss. It was the sweetest torture. My nipples had been hard and aching nearly the entire day, and I had been blatantly using my full, large breasts to flirt with him. His and my reward were there for the taking, and I was begging him to claim them.

His lips were still teasing my ear, and when he softly moaned the words...

"Jane...you are one, sexy...hungry bitch."

I purred inside and my hands that had previously been gripping the hot tub rail, suddenly reached around behind him. They clasped to his taut muscled buns and pulled him against me. My passion erupting as I struggled to find the words to reply...

"Jesus...Charles..."

And I felt him shift behind me, and then suddenly I felt a tug on the string knot crisscrossing my back. And then my full breasts were spilling free of my bikini. Their weight and size simply too much for the skimpy material. His left hand was still holding my hair, flexing and relaxing slowly over my scalp. Causing such wonderful sensations. His right hand had never moved from my right side, his palm partially cupping my breast, and the realisation that he had loosened my knot with his teeth caused me to giggle.

"You are one ridiculously sexy bastard?" I panted. Trying to wriggle seductively and free my arms of my shoulder straps.

He still had hold of my hair, and his huge torso was once again pressed tightly to mine so room to wriggle was limited. I could feel his hungry eyes roaming over my breasts as his lips once more began to softly devour the soft skin just below my ear. I moaned again. And then I felt his grip on my hair soften, and I was being twirled back around to face him.

And the instant he released me, we just gazed at each other. Part of me wanted to attack him with a passion I'd never felt before. I was a wild woman, and he sensed it. But, I mustered every grain of self control I had, and remained still before him. Breathing heavily. My eyes, heavy lidded and glazed. A gentle shrug of my shoulder and my bikini slid helplessly down my right arm. I caught it in my hand and with a coy smile, and wide eyes...tossed it casually over my shoulder. I shivered. Not from the cold...I was on fire. It was standing there before him. My ample, heavy breasts bared. My long, thick nipples achingly hard. Just dying to be touched. To have their day long torment ended with some greedy attention from his fingers and lips.

I croaked softly.

"Charles..."

The look he gave me in reply made my stomach flip.

I could barely speak as my eyes bored deep into his. Matching his lust and intensity. The air around was still charged and for a moment neither of us needed to move or speak. Our eyes said everything. I inhaled deeply, instinctively arching my back as I pushed my voluptuous chest out before him. Inviting his touch, and as he brought both of his large, strong hands up in front of me and let them rest on my shoulders, I let my gaze drop to his gargantuan crotch. My hungry eyes roamed all over it. Slowly. And quite deliberately. I feasted on his cock, straining dangerously against that tiny cotton thong.

And I felt a finger slip under my chin, lifting my head so my gaze was level with his.

"All in good time baby...all in good time." He whispered...leaning in slowly until his soft full lips were just a hairs breadth from mine. His eyes open and never moving from mine. As I tilted my head, slowly parting my lips in anticipation. They felt deliciously soft being coated in my own lubrication and I was aching to mash my lips to his; hungrily, urgently.

His hands were lightly stroking my shoulders, letting his fingers dance softly across my collarbones once more. I was mewing again. I needed to feel his touch so when he gently slid both palms over my shoulders, down the tops of my arms until they traced the swell and curve of each breast...the tingles started once more and I shivered. He was not a man to rush anything but gradually his touch increased in its intensity and I was now whimpering as his large, strong hands began to slowly caress my soft, heavy breasts. His fingers curling around the underside and his huge palms gently kneaded each heavy orb. It was a delicious push - pull motion and I began to rock back and forth with his movements.

I was experiencing almost constant tingling in my temples and brow and was certain I was going to pass out but I didn't want him to stop. I just rocked, and whimpered...my vision blurred and my breath ragged. And just as I couldn't stand any more teasing, his thumbs fanned out to graze my large areola's. Full, sweeping circles as he pulled on my voluptuous breasts, which caused my tingles to erupt inside my cranium and I felt as though my body was lurching dangerously to the side even though I knew I had barely moved a muscle.

I was still riding the wave of my last mindgasm; still rocking with the rhythm of his hands as they very firmly now, kneaded and massaged my gorgeously pendulous boobs. And just as I slowly recovered my senses and the darkness lifted, my eyes opened to find him bent slightly, eyes looking up at me. Full of mischievous lust. He had lowered his face so his lips were just an inch away from my left nipple. His head tilted slightly to the side. And as we gazed back at one another, I placed my own hands over his. Hefting my breasts for him...aching for his lips...offering my lovely, perfect girls to him.