Undone

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angel_grant
angel_grant
1,025 Followers

Neither of us spoke as we walked from the car to the hotel and I tried not to think of what the man at the desk was thinking as Nick registered.

Once inside the room, he moved through turning on the lights, gradually illuminating the space. It had a small table and chair, a tall wardrobe beside a low set of drawers atop which was mounted an ornate mirror that reflected the object that dominated the room and had demanded my attention the moment the first light went on: the wide bed with its seamless, white blanket and small arrangement of pillows at the head. I had to force my eyes away from it, busying myself with my long wool coat, removing it with extra care, my fingers clumsy from the wine and my nerves.

Nick hung our coats in the entry way closet, then bent to untie his shoes, which he placed on the floor beneath them. I slid my feet from my shoes and he took them, placing them next to his. He straightened and smiled a very small smile, the corners of his mouth creasing just a little.

He moved toward me and took my hands in his, bending his head to mine, kissing me softly on the lips.

"Sofia." He dragged out the syllables, like he was trying out the word on his tongue. It had the same effect a finger dragged lightly down my spine would have. I shivered violently and he smiled.

After a few seconds he let go of my hands, and brought my body close to his. And we kissed. Minutes passed. Maybe hours, I couldn't be sure, but our mouths stayed locked for a long time, moving in a slow motion ritual dance, heads tilting one way then the other, tongues advancing and retreating, lips meshing, sucking, opening wide. The pace increased slowly, as did the depth of our kisses, the pressure of our mouths, the quick breaths of surprise and delight, until he drew back, taking my hands again and stepped toward the bed.

He paused just beside it and his eyes dropped from my face as he brought a hand up to run a finger down the front edge of my cardigan, boldly navigating the curve of my breast without pause, each button jumping beneath his fingertip as he passed over them.

"You got it right side out this time," he said softly, moving his finger back up and then bringing both hands up to slip the thin knit from my shoulders. He stepped behind me as he drew the sweater down and off my arms, and slid his arms around my waist. He kissed my neck, nuzzling his face into my hair for a second before bringing his mouth to my ear.

"I want you to undress for me, Sofia. I want to see you naked, but slowly—bit by bit, inch by inch." He continued laying kisses against my neck, working upward until his mouth was at my ear. "I want to see you come undone...for me," he whispered.

He stepped away, his hands leaving my body slowly, and came around in front of me.

"I—I've never done anything like that before," I said, uncertainly.

"Don't be shy; I already know you're beautiful." He sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at me expectantly.

"Um."

"Start with your tights."

I stared some more, and he waited quietly, patiently, as if he would wait forever.

"Your tights, Sofia." He let his eyes drop meaningfully, as if he was mentally lowering them himself.

I knew I had to do it before I lost all nerve.

I lifted my skirt at the sides and began to lower the elastic waistband of my tights, pushing the silky knit down my thighs. I knew he hadn't seen anything yet—my skirt had blocked his view—but even as I drew my feet from the tight nylon and dropped them onto the chair behind me I felt revealed, exposed. The whole thing was so surreal, I wasn't sure it was really happening.

"Your shirt next."

I could feel my hands trembling as I brought them up, located my first shirt button, and slid it through the hole. I looked at him nervously, but his eyes were on my fingers as I slowly made my way down the front of my blouse, button after button. When I paused, he raised his eyes to mine. I took a deep breath and parted the fabric, letting the sleeves slide down my arms and off, onto the floor. I blushed beneath my already red face, and worried he'd be disappointed by my small breasts or the fact that I wore a bra with a little bit of padding in the bottom—not a lot, but enough to give what breasts I had a little lift, to make them look a bigger.

He breathed a long breath, his eyes expectant. "Now your skirt."

As I reached behind my back, he started undoing the buttons of his own shirt, and I watched with just as much anticipation as he worked his way lower. I blindly undid the fastener and then the zipper of my skirt lowering it slowly, feeling my mouth go dry as my hands inched their way lower. The fabric went slack and I paused for a second before hooking my fingers in the waistband and lowering my skirt, slipping my feet from it and taking the time to carefully arrange it over the arm of the chair.

I turned to find him drawing his arms from his sleeves, his eyes sweeping up and down my body. My eyes were busy too; taking in the vision of his bare chest. He wasn't particularly muscular, but he obviously kept fit, and my whole body reacted to the wealth of bare skin before me.

"Don't stop," he said, his voice even softer than it had been. "Bra next."

Reality was forcing itself into my dazed head—panic running hot behind. I pushed down my fear, though I was nearly trembling from head to toe, and reached behind me to undo the tiny hooks. As soon as the straps went slack, my panic rose up fast, freezing me in place. I brought my hands around quickly, holding the bra against my breasts.

He looked at me, slid his belt free and laid it, coiled on the bed next to him. His lusty look softening a little. "I promise you won't disappoint me, if that's what you're worried about. I'm 100% sure I will find your breasts as beautiful as the rest of you."

I couldn't move; my mind had stopped working. I just stared, horrified by my inability to act, horrified by the tears that were threatening behind my eyes. He slid to the end of the bed, still looking at me, and removed his socks before he stood up. He placed his hands on my bare shoulders and very gently planted a kiss on my cheek.

"You are beautiful," he said softly. "If you doubt me, I'll show you."

He kissed my cheek again and tilted his head down, to catch my mouth with his, placing a soft, wet kiss on my lips.

"It's a shame we're so obsessed with large breasts in this culture," he said as he straightened. He ran his hands down my arms, slipping the straps of my bra lower. I stood, frozen, pleasure and fear rippling through me. "Small breasts are just as attractive, and anyway, it's more to do with the woman herself than anything else." His hands moved to mine and he very gently lifted them away, toward his body so the soft cups of my bra fell away. We both looked down as my breasts were revealed.

He let go of my hands, slipping his fingers into the straps that hung from my wrists, and carefully folded the garment in two before he turned enough to toss it gently onto the chair with my other discarded clothes. Then he turned his attention back to me.

His hands returned to my arms, this time sliding upward, and I shivered though the room was quite warm. Goose bumps erupted across my skin, and my already hard nipples contracted even more, from the shiver and the knowledge that Nick's eyes were on them.

He kissed my cheek again and turned me around, stepping me forward a few paces until we were in front of the mirror beside the wardrobe. He slid his bare arms around my waist and leaned forward, his face next to mine in the reflection.

"Sofia, you are a beautiful woman," he breathed encouragingly. I stared at my naked upper body as his hands slid over my skin, caressing my belly and spreading out over my hips. "Do you think you're beautiful? Do you see what I see? Look."

I watched his hands as they lightly traced my hips and waist, running along the silhouette.

"This curve here," he said, running his fingers along the outside of my hip and upward. "Where your waist dips above your pelvic bone. And this line..." he continued, drawing his fingers upward, pausing at my center, just below my breasts before bringing them back out to trace the edge of my ribcage, exaggerated by my tightly held breath. "The arc of your ribs...and here..." His hands moved lower, resting warmly on my belly, one hand covering the other. He held them there for a moment and I looked at his face in the mirror to find his eyes were closed. "So soft."

His words were as thrilling as the sight of his hands moving over my body. I let out the breath I'd been holding and he opened his eyes to meet mine, his fingers spreading and then moving out to curve around my waist.

His eyes dropped from mine and I followed his gaze to my breasts, tensing slightly as his hands moved upward again.

"I think," he said, "this is the sweetest curve on any woman's body."

He drew his fingers along the lower curve of my breasts, slowly, just barely touching my skin.

"Large or small—it's graceful."

I felt him shift behind me slightly, noticing his body seemed closer.

"And this..." he brought both hands up, hovering over my breasts. He laid one finger flat on my skin. "This slope..." He moved lower, barely grazing my skin as he traveled the upper surface of my breast, inching closer to my nipples. "This slope is positively gorgeous."

I squirmed and sighed when he reached my nipples, and saw my own face in an expression of discomfort and arousal, his face just beside, watching me too.

"Not just because it leads to these."

He made a few lazy circles on the outside of my areolas, bringing his head forward slightly, his eyes moving from my reflection to look down at my breasts from above and his own circling fingers. I felt his breath on my neck.

"Mmm, they're so hard and sensitive," he whispered, tightening his circles until he had a nipple under each of his index fingers and was rolling them back against the swell of my breast, increasing my pleasure to a point beyond anything I'd ever felt before. I groaned and leaned back against him, feeling the pressure of his body against me, and what I thought must have been his erection through his trousers.

"Oh, Sofia, you have to believe me by now." He continued manipulating one of my nipples while his other hand slid down, reaching for mine, and bringing it back between us, parting our bodies so he could press my hand against his hardness. "I can't fake a reaction like that," he whispered.

I gasped excitedly and for a second, he held my hand against him, pressing our bodies back together so it was trapped between us.

"I'm so turned on, and it's all because of you," he murmured.

He withdrew my hand and slid his own across my belly again. He pressed his mouth against my neck, kissing me once, and then moved his hand lower, diving under the waistband of my panties. It dipped low, immediately sliding over my outer labia, and we both gasped.

"You're so wet, Sofia. You can't fake that either."

He drew his hand out, moved his hand down from my breast, and hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties, drawing them down with agonizing slowness, revealing me inch by inch, the wispy brown pubic hair and the darker, wet hair that drew our eyes along the divide, slightly shadowed and obscured, but obvious enough to bring a little groan of desire from deep in Nick's throat.

"Spread your legs a little," he said in a low voice. I looked at his expression in the mirror and made my own noise of desire, a whimper of thrilled uncertainty, and shifted my feet apart an inch or two, watching the space between my thighs grow, allowing Nick to continue lowering the fabric to completely reveal my pussy.

He let the thin fabric fall and I automatically shifted my legs as he held them for me to step out. Then his hands were sliding back up my legs and I felt myself wobble unsteadily for a second. I was naked, completely naked.

"Look at yourself, Sofia." He stood behind me again, hands on my hips. "Look at your body."

I did look, and I did see beauty and grace where I'd only ever seen flaws and inadequacies.

I was astounded by my obvious arousal—my tight nipples, the flush across my skin, my quick breaths that made my belly rise and fall, and knew he wasn't just putting me on, he wasn't just trying to get me in bed—although I also knew he wouldn't have to try hard to get me in bed now that something was building inside me and tightening with each touch of his hands.

He was watching me and when I finally looked at him, he smiled a hungry smile.

"You see it?" he asked, pressing his mouth to my neck once, a small kiss. "Beautiful."

I watched in the mirror as his hand moved between us, felt the heat of his skin moving as undid his belt and the front of his trousers. My own body blocked my view, but I knew by the muffled zip, the softness of the fabric as it went slack, opening and sliding down, aided by his hands, and when I felt it brush against my calves as it passed by on its way to the floor, I made an involuntary noise of desire.

He took two easy steps, retrieving his feet from the pooled fabric, and moved back toward me. I felt my body and mind snap to attention, knowing what was about to happen—wanting it as much as I worried I wasn't ready.

I felt the heat of his skin first, so much hotter than his hand, as he pressed himself against me, then the pressure as he brought his hands back around, pulling me close again, his cock nestled between my ass cheeks. He groaned, moving his hips back and forth a little, pushing himself tight against me. His hands came up as his mouth moved to my neck and he kissed me, clasping both my breasts in his palms.

I groaned in response, and covered his hands with my own, not sure if I wanted to remove them or press them closer as the pleasure overwhelmed me for a second. He pushed his hips against me in return and I felt his cock slide against me, moving forward and back a few times, the flesh of my ass stroking his shaft as he did.

I turned my head toward his and he kissed my mouth with passion, drawing a breathy sigh from me as he shifted his hands, with mine on top, to take my nipples between his fingers. He stroked them for a moment, and I found my hips moving back against him, pushing my flesh against his. Each circle of his fingers filled me a little more with a lightness, like a balloon expanding inside my chest, pushing against me from inside, growing bigger, more full until I groaned against his mouth and had to clutch his hands in mine, to stop the motion of his fingers.

I felt his hands relax and begin to slip from under mine, the pressure inside my chest slowly deflating. I sighed in relief as both our hands moved away together.

"I want to taste you, Sofia." His hands turned to take mine and he led one low, over my belly and straight down between my legs. I caught my breath, watching as he pressed my fingers to my pussy, pushing them between my swollen labia, groaning as I made direct contact with the sensitive flesh.

"God, you are so wet, baby. I need to taste you."

I squirmed, heard myself whimper, and watched as he ran his finger over mine, pushing two of his over two of mine, diving between my wet lips, stroking up and down for a moment before he withdrew his hand, taking mine again, and brought them both up in front of me. I stared in excited anticipation as it moved higher—his mouth opening as my hand drew near.

"Oh my God." I moaned as his lips closed around my fingers. I felt his tongue slither and swirl hotly around them once or twice before he sucked, closing his eyes as if he was savoring the taste. My taste.

He moaned too, softly, and then withdrew my fingers and let go of my hand. He opened his eyes and in one fluid movement, slid his arm from my waist, drew back, and turned me to face him. "You taste so good," he said, taking my face in his hands and pulling it toward his.

When he kissed me I felt a surge of arousal, flavored by my own wetness and punctuated by the hardness of his cock pressing against my bare stomach. I was dizzy with excitement, and keenly aware of how much I wanted him, how much I wanted everything that could happen to happen. And soon.

I pressed against him, wanting to push him backward toward the bed, and he clutched at me, hands now greedy and quick. We stepped toward the bed in an awkward tangle, each of us trying to assert our own needs, to communicate what we wanted without words—our mouths glued together, tongues wrestling for dominance.

We hit the bed together and he fell onto me, pushing my limbs from his body, pinning me, and shoving my legs open to press himself against my open thighs. I thought for a moment he was going to enter me right there and then—his cock pressed hard against the soft flesh of my thigh, but he began to slide lower, releasing my arms, and moving his mouth from mine, kissing lower and lower, down my neck, down to my breasts. He slid his hands beneath me and lifted my torso slightly, pressing my chest upward, toward his face, my nipples pointing right up into the air, his mouth poised just above.

I tensed as he paused, and watched his lips part. I felt the heat of his breath first, then the pressure of his tongue as he gently touched the very tip of my nipple. It was barely a touch, but the sight—the pink of his skin on the pink of my own—made my whole body pulse. And then he made a circle, painting all around the erect flesh, leaving it just as glistening wet as his tongue, and I groaned loudly.

"Mmm," he said, smiling up at me for a moment. "I love that you're not afraid to show how turned on you are. Not that you could hide it..." He lowered his head again and closed his lips around my nipple, just sucking the very tip once. "With these hard nipples."

He moved his mouth to my other breast and used his tongue to once again circle my nipple, thoroughly wetting it from the tip outward, past the dark edge of my areola, licking gently once before he made another circuit, applying more pressure the second time.

"Fuuuuck..." I heard myself groan as pleasure zipped through me, from breast to breast and down between my legs where it vibrated wildly before shooting back up to my breasts, like a pinball rocketing through me.

Nick pressed the flesh of my small breast upward, toward his mouth, and sucked it deep into his mouth, making me swear again. I felt his tongue against my nipple, moving slowly and methodically as the pressure of his mouth increased.

"Oh God, oh my God—Nick." I stared, a little shaken by how good it felt, and watched him as he worked his tongue more quickly against the sensitive flesh, pushing the pleasure higher and higher. He smiled when I let out a delighted squeal and he drew his mouth back, taking my nipple between tightly held lips, stretching it to its limit before letting it bounce back against my body, his hand immediately grasping the flesh of my breast tightly.

He kissed his way to the other breast, moving slowly, his fingers moving to my nipples, turning and tracing them in careful synchronized motions, lifting his eyes to mine, the slightest smile on his mouth as I groaned in pleasure again.

"I never would have guessed you'd be so vocal, Sofia."

I could feel the soft heat of his breath on my skin as he worked his way across my body, his eyes on my other nipple, his mouth opening even before he got there.

"But I knew you'd be full of surprises," he said, his tongue flicking out in search of the stiff flesh. Once he found it, he closed his mouth over it and sucked it roughly.

"God. YES," I said , my own excitement surprising me. My hands went to his head, grasping it, holding it still. I felt overwhelmed by the sensation, and only barely aware of my own writhing hips beneath his body, my fast breath, the tone of pleading in my voice. "Oh God—suck me, Nick."

angel_grant
angel_grant
1,025 Followers