The Experiment Pt. 02

I feel the cool air on my mound as he releases me, I feel the moisture of his saliva evaporate. He's panting from the oral workout he's given me, wiping my juices from his chin. His eyes are so beautifully happy, grinning at me when he sees my stunned reaction. I'm trying to move, but all I can do is collapse on top of him, falling into his chest.

We chuckle, pressed together on the floor. His back is lying on my threadbare entry rug, while I'm lying on top of him, a rolling mass of limbs that has no control.

I want to know how he did that, how he could be so good, how he knew what I needed and could make me feel so incredible. He brushes aside my hair that's tangled across his face, he kisses my forehead. Because it's what you deserved, he whispers.

It's so sweet, but before I dissolve into emotional putty, I must get my turn. I pull myself up off his chest, and get up on my knees. He's about to sit up with me, but I grab onto his undone belt and yank apart the unzipped placket of his jeans. I push the material down over his raised bulge and then I get my fingernails beneath the hem of his briefs. The cotton material is strained as I yank it down, and tug out his engorged cock. And before he can say a word, I fling my hair over my shoulder and dive down.

I curl my lips over my teeth, and go down as far as I can. He gasps as he hits the back of my throat, and I slowly release him, licking as I go, only to dive back down. I've never really enjoyed sucking a guy off, usually fatigued by the way I have to open and hold my jaw, until now. Sucking Damian's cock is like taking a long drink of water after dying of thirst. To feel his most intimate part in my mouth. And now I'm licking down his shaft, tasting his soft and tender skin beneath my tongue, hearing him moan. God, I love that sound.

He's saying my name, whining. I think he says something in his native language, probably a swear word, as he grips a fist of my hair. I don't want him to cum yet, but it's tempting. I feel so grateful; I finally feel the way I think I should feel with a lover. Happy to reciprocate. Happy to please because they wanted to please me.

Reluctantly, I ever so slowly release him. Damian is panting for air, his eyes closed with relief.

"Am I boring you, Mr. Damian?" I tease.

His eyes snap open, a grin a thousand miles wide. "I was just overwhelmed by Miss Siena's considerable talents."

I grin back, leaning down to kiss him. His hands grab hold of the thin tank top that I'm still wearing, pulling me down into his arms. As we kiss, he rolls me onto my back, gaining control as he scrambles on top of me. I'm devoured by his kiss, ready to relinquish to his desires, when he pauses. A tender caress of my face, he tells me he cannot make love to me on the floor. I laugh at his chivalry.

Damian stands up while he's pulling me up onto my feet. I'm only upright for a few seconds when he snatches me around the middle and lifts me off my feet. I lock my arms over his shoulders as he staggers forward as this combined mass, chuckling as he blindly navigates my darkened apartment. Finally locating my bedroom, he sets me down by my bedside. My tank top is yanked off, my bra disconnected in mere seconds by his deft fingers. Another scorching kiss, another pause as he takes a step back to pull off his unnecessary jeans. The briefs are shucked, and we are both, at last, naked.

Gazing into his eyes, I see my happiness reflected. For once, I'm no longer nervous or afraid. I can hardly wait to be the subject of his passionate design, and to feel my body respond to it. The aching inside me has hardly ceased since I climaxed earlier, and it only gets stronger as I lie on my back, as he climbs on top of me.

In fact, the squeezing ache easily accepts his penetration. Everything within me is humming and buzzing with a synergy of sensations that are as marvelous as they are miraculous. He snakes a hand down between us and swirls his thumb over my clit, timed to his thrusts; he asks if I like this, if it feels good. I meet his blissful blue eyes and force myself to speak through this ecstasy, to make sure he understands what's finally happening. I assure him it feels very, very good. That everything he's doing is perfect.

I finally feel connected to someone as they make love to me. He kisses my neck, he kisses my shoulder, he gently kisses my breasts. He makes me feel like his treasured possession as he thrusts, as he pushes pleasure into my body. I take his hand away from my clit and keep hold of it, threading my fingers through his. I can feel the tension getting tighter within me, I can feel the pull deep within my pussy responding to him. It ripples and surges through me with unstoppable momentum, so violent a reaction that I cling on for dear life, crying out with sobs equal parts pleasure and relief. He's chuckling into my neck, kissing me, lauding me with praise.

A little voice in my head accepts this praise, and acknowledges that the pain and drama and temporary heartache were worth it. My experiment worked.

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