The Interview

After a moment, he lay slowly down, rolling to his back. He was satiated now, but not me; I was needy. I dragged my tingling flesh up the golden length of him and settled into his arms. He kissed my cheek, then my ear, murmuring incomprehensible words; at least they sounded complimentary.

His breathing returned to normal and he seemed to doze. Being a tactile creature, I decided that if he was not up to giving me pleasure at the moment, then I would help myself to it. Let him sleep. Based on his native time zone, he'd been up all night.

While he rested, I explored his body to my heart's content. Good god. The man was forty-five years old and he was gorgeous. The impression was not made in any conventional way. Up close, he looked his age, so it wasn't a fountain-of-youth thing. Maybe... just the way he was put together. The way he moved. The way he talked. Fascinated by his masculine allure, I touched him freely from ear tips to knees. My fingers glided down his chest, his stomach. He had the cutest belly button—both an innie and an outie at the same time. I combed through the springy pubic curls but left the softened penis alone. 'He' would let me know when he was ready.

It was something like petting a sleeping lion. Would he wake up and like this, or would he find it cloying and invasive like so many men did?

The ache between my legs had not subsided. Though I moved very slowly, I was also twining and squeezing my legs through his, arching my back, pulling in on my abs and pelvic muscles. Abruptly, he rolled and put his back to me. I wanted to screech in frustration. Instead, I stuck out my tongue and licked his back, down his spine, up over the shoulder blade. Unable to stop myself, I laid both hands on his ass and caressed the firm curvature of it. He shivered, suddenly very much awake. I ran the tip of my tongue to his neck, licked behind one ear.

"Horny?" gruffly, was the only thing he had to say for himself.

"Mm-hmm." I pushed my pubis against the crack of his ass.

Sean turned over again to face me. He looked into my face, eyes slitted from tiredness and something like amusement. "Tell me... are you a screamer?" One side of his mouth curved up slightly.

"Um..." What the hell? "Not very often. Why?"

"So you have before?"

"At times."

"Like what times?"

If he was going to mess with me, then I'd give it right back. He wanted me to spell it out? Fine. "Like, when it's really good. Or if it's really big. You know. Sometimes from getting eaten out...or when I'm getting the shit pounded out of me...."

"Will yeh let me gag you?" Well, that was point blank.

I stared hard into his eyes. "Either you're incredibly conceited... or ... Oh gawd!" It hit me. Sleeping Sean was one thing. This other one, alive, awake, more or less telling me I was in for the ride of my life, had fried my brain. With amazing accuracy, he bit a certain spot on my neck that makes me crazy. My eyes must have bugged out of my skull. He continued, "Y'see, just in case, I'd rather not that people hear things... These walls might be thick, but more likely they're not."

"Oh." That was probably true. And if it was just a gag and not being tied up... "Okay, but not with something that's going to gag me in the process, alright?"

"You seem to have a fairly high tolerance for large foreign objects in your mouth." His eyes snapped with humor.

He didn't even have to get up; there was a case or bag under the bed on his side. After rustling in it a minute, he held up a length of dark blue satiny material with a white rubber dowel, about an inch and a half in diameter and four inches long, in the middle. "Can you handle this?" I nodded, and sat up so he could tie it behind my head. My breathing would not be hindered at all, and it would muffle any noises that inadvertently escaped. A person could bite it as hard as she wanted without damaging it. That was good. No doubt I would need to...

"Oh, that's nice," he said, and laid me back down. A second later he was kissing his way down my stomach to my slit. I keep mine totally shaved, out of personal preference. "Look at that bald little cunt," he drawled, pushing my legs apart. And then, his mobile lips and tongue were right there, right where I needed them so badly. Sean shifted around till he was lying in the vee of my legs, legs that widened their position of their own accord and ...

My nether lips were peeled apart and that tongue stroked my quivering, itching little nub. I couldn't even watch. From the get-go, my clit went into hyper-drive. Sean's tongue, warm, wet, drag-rasping over my surfaces, found the places that needed friction the most. Far be it from screaming, I was near hyperventilation. Little mewls escaped from behind the gag even as I bit down on it.

He raised his head. His mouth and chin were coated with my juices. "Grab the headboard," he suggested. I stretched both arms up and found it. Then, that tongue again. Two long fingers pushed up into me, sliding in slickness to the knuckles. I tightened those muscles around his digits. My legs moved all on their own to the oddest configuration: one foot flat on each of his arms, but bent double at the knees and flat to the bed. Sean spread my folds back and took the jutting but tiny knot of nerves into his mouth, still swirling crazily. I bore down on his hand, which he shoved back hard with. The long-delayed orgasm approached like a freight train from hell. He licked, sucked, snaked his tongue till I was shaking, bucking my hips as wildly as I could with him holding me down.

And he stopped. "Not yet , baby." I was practically crying with frustration and want. He applied the tongue-tip again. It squiggled and it circled; my orgasm crashed upon me. If not for the rubber bit in my teeth, I would've been wailing like a banshee. Molten lead exploded outwards from the pit of my belly; the tiny ticklish sex-spot under Sean's lapping tongue the center point of it all. Fingers pinched my burning nipples tightly and pulled. I was hissing for all I was worth; odd low growly noises rumbled in my chest. My legs tried to snap together over suddenly over-sensitive parts, but Sean leaned his weight forward to keep them open.

Then he was on me, fully on top of me, and "Oh, god, he's gonna fuck me!" appeared in a thought like an immense, blazing red neon sign. My cunt, still set on spasm, was filled and plundered. This time I did scream. He slid into me balls-deep, spreading me wide. The solid length of him stretched me side-to-side and front-to-back. He set a hard, fast pace. There was no mercy from the start, only more and more frantic pounding. Oh, goddamn! I clung to him with ankles crossed over his beautiful back. The flexing and rippling of his muscles under my limbs only showed me how much he gave of himself, in this.

"I'm not gonna last long... 's been too damn long," he moaned. I didn't care at that point. I'd already come once and was well on the way to another climax. I might have been on my back on a bed, but my insides were seething with vertigo, rushing with every slide of him in and out of me. Sean's hands moved all over my body, what he would reach of it. He pulled my hands above my head and held my forearms down. Not losing his rhythm, he assaulted my breasts, sucking one nipple then the other so hard the already stiffened peaks lengthened in his mouth. Finally he buried his face in my neck with a harsh sigh. I felt teeth and it went straight to my pussy. Sean felt the clench and new, wet heat, too. Behind the bit-gag, I was making sounds that sounded like short, soft squeals.

And so it was. It was eternal, if only for those moments. Unable to kiss, Sean slid both arms under me, around my back, and cradled me. His loins slapped against mine with every push of his hips. The furrows across his forehead, the dimples-lines down his cheeks grow deeper and deeper the closer he got to cumming. I got both hands between his chest and mine. His little pink nipples had tightened to tiny beads as hard as glass. I pinched and rolled them, nails scraping. Sean slammed into me aggressively. His mouth was open, even white teeth inches from my face. I wanted to feel those teeth, feel them claim skin, break skin, for the man to swallow my blood. But some things, you just don't ask.

He buried his face in my neck and unleashed his final attack. In the lowest part of my body, his steel-hard cock began to pulse. Sean crashed into me, following its rhythm. All of a sudden he reared back, grabbed both my legs right below the knees and forced them up against my shoulders. From there, he held me down and still while he took his pleasure. Rhythmic grunting deepened into a growl, and then a groaning roar.

Oh, fuck. This was art, this was poetry and light and beauty... Wait a minute... Oh, Christ, I was gonna come. Sean whispered into my ear, "C'mon girl, come for me. Cum on my cock."

He has one of those names that's easy to say in the heat of the moment. As it stood, I'd had plenty of practice. From behind the gag, I said it. I moaned his name, clamping down, shoving him in, hitching my hips into a half-arch to draw him in still deeper. Taking what friction was needed, I grabbed his ass to pull him tightly against my intimate parts, and rubbed my clit against his body. His cock twitched hard; hot seed burst from him, flooding into me. I watched the orgasm move across his flushed face, rip through his still-open eyes.

"Sean..." A second one snuck up on me, and I flew screaming quietly over a cliff of sensation like an enormous freefall, all centered deep in my belly. He spurted his last but remained, lowered his head and collapsed heavily. His weight on me felt so good, the texture of his moist skin, his breath upon my neck, of his chest pressing my breasts flat and his slowly softening member slipping from me. I reached up, behind my head, to untie the bit-gag. The ties had slipped into a knot; he had to help me. It was a delight just to be there, to be inches from his face, to actually stare at him, to stare so intimately at my (no, not my) Sean as he concentrated. He kissed me. It was gentle, soft, a near-careful parting of lips, the lightest touch of tongue.

For the umpteenth time that night, he surprised me. Sean had never struck me as the type for after-play. But he was. Perfectly. His large, articulate hands ghosted slowly over the hills and curves of my body. It was more relaxing than arousing; it was so damn wonderful. His warm body snuggled up against me under the light sheets, his arm draped over me, legs entwined just like before when I'd been desperate to have him, only now I had and the fulfillment of it nearly overwhelmed me. I wondered how much he could read in my eyes. That was a scary thought.

After fifteen minutes of the placid hand- and lip-play, his eyelids began to droop. Regretfully, before I could fall asleep, I kissed him one last time and slid off the bed.

"Where do you think you're going?" he rumbled behind me.

I spun around, not having expected any contest. "Home. I have an interview to write up."

"You have till Monday."

"No, till tomorrow, four p.m. That leaves my editor an hour before the deadline to the night run. It goes in on Sunday."

"I have a laptop. And this hotel has Internet ports if you need them. Stay the night. Do your writing tomorrow while I'm working. Then we can play some more." He grinned, humor and lecherous-male plastered on his face. Naked Sean in the bed? Who the fuck could resist that?