Blind Seduction (23 page)

David showered me with kisses, nibbles, and hot
flicks of his tongue: face, neck, shoulders, breasts – whatever he
could reach, as he started moving in me in a steady, pounding
rhythm which built my arousal to a painful intensity. My clawed
hands dug into the sheets, fisting them into little balls as I
tried to anchor myself in the storm of physical sensation. I cried
out in surprise when he dipped his head low and tugged at my
nipples with sharp teeth. On its own volition, my back arched
toward his mouth. He pulled almost completely out of me in a lazy
gliding motion of his hips, and slid back smoothly, filling me
completely.

Changing the tempo again, making me strain my whole
body upward to meet his push, he slid his large right hand down to
splay over my ass, the tip of his middle finger brushing my anus
with every undulation of his hips. I imagined he was above me
balanced on one arm. His strength was impressive, for I'm no
featherweight. His hand held us groin to groin, his hips shifting
only enough in his tight grasp to rub my clit in small circles
against his pelvic bone while he was seated in me so deeply. It was
all I needed being still over-sensitive from two earth-shattering
orgasms.

“Fall with me,” he moaned. I felt the first spasms
jerk him, before I gladly followed him over the edge.

The next morning, I woke him with kisses, thousands
of them, starting at the nape of his neck and teasing over the bulk
of his shoulders. His back was massive, not over developed, but
large-boned, covered in thick ropes of muscle, tapering to a narrow
waist, and the tempting rise of a finely crafted ass. I spread my
fingers wide over his shoulders to touch as much surface as
possible, bending over him to taste the ridge of his spine. When I
reached the rise of his butt, I dragged my tongue firmly back up
his spine, stopping in my upward travels to nip with light, teasing
bites, until I bit deeper into his shoulder, holding meaty muscle
firmly in my teeth. He moaned and flexed his hips into the
mattress.

Releasing my grip, I traced the little indentations
I'd left on his skin with the tip of my tongue. They were not deep
and would probably fade within the hour. I murmured in his ear,
“Flip over.”

I seduced him with touches, another thousand of them,
starting at his forehead, feathering his eyelids, and trailing
slowly across his cheeks to his lips. I fused my mouth to his,
drinking up the passion of him as he opened to me and swept his
tongue against my own. His arms reached up to pull my kneeling body
down to his, but I grasped his wrists and pinned them against the
bed at his sides.

“My turn,” I breathed into his mouth. “I want to take
my pleasure in yours now. Lay back and enjoy the ride.”

Leaning forward, I placed a string of kisses along
his neck, then retraced the path with my tongue—he tasted of salt
and clean sweat. I inhaled deeply to savor the scent of his skin,
still holding the trace of soap from our shared shower a few hours
ago. When I reached the crook of his neck, where it curved into his
shoulder, I gathered the skin into my teeth and pulled softly. The
position brushed my nipples over his chest and he arched into me,
crushing my breasts more firmly into him.

“Cheater,” I scolded, pressing him flat to the bed
again, licking my way across the taut muscles of his pecs,
alternating hands, lips, and teeth as I explored the width between
his shoulders. His muscles were hard under the warmth of his skin,
and I loved tangling my fingers in the hint of hair dusted over his
chest. It was difficult to resist the immediate urge to follow the
soft hedge to where it grew denser at the groin.

I teased my fingertips around his nipples, smiling at
the way they drew tight and stiff as I scored them with feather
light nails. Since his wrists were free again, David cupped my
breasts in his hands and started to mirror my actions. He plucked
at the tips of my nipples, still so sensitive from his attentions
last night. I pressed the curve of one more fully into his
palm.

“Cheater,” he echoed, with a smile in his tone.

Smiling in pleasure, I traced my nails down toward
his abdomen, bathing the taut, defined muscles with firm licks of
my tongue. I shifted my attention to the rise of a hip, into the
hollow at his groin, smelling the musk of a healthy male mixed with
the faint scent of my sex, probably a result of him nestled,
half-hard between my thighs all night. I patted the inside of a leg
to indicate I wanted him to spread wide. Ever accommodating, David
shifted to make room for me to kneel between his knees.

It was easy to imagine his body stretched out in
front of me, muscled arms laying inertly at his sides; strong,
heavily corded legs bracketing me; erection long and thick curving
up toward his belly. The mental picture inspired me to stroke my
hands from his face to knees, learning the details of his features,
the textures of his skin, the sensitivity of his flesh, and the
pulse of his heart.

I stroked fingers up the length of his inner thighs
to cup his balls and the base of his impressive erection. My
exhalation of hot breath across the head of his cock caused him to
jerk in my hand. Lifting his balls, I rasped my tongue over one,
and then the other. I could feel them pull tight in the curl of my
fingers. As I licked my way toward the head of him, I found weeping
drops of pre-come. Slick. Salty.

“Did I ever tell you I started to fall in love with
you when you pressed me against the door of Janey's car and kissed
me senseless?” I opened my mouth over the crest and sucked him as
deeply into my throat as I could. Thankfully, with a hand grasped
firmly at his base, I was saved from gagging when he groaned
raggedly and thrust upward.

“Oh damn, sorry,” he apologized, immediately. “I
just...” his voice trailed off as I rose up and plunged my mouth
down on him again. He held the next reflexive thrust in check, but
barely, his whole body shuddered with the effort of laying passive
beneath me. Knowing the effort required to maintain his control was
intoxicating. I started to move my mouth and fist together,
gripping tightly while trying to maintain a consistent suction. My
hand slid up between his widespread thighs to cup his balls, and
rub the perfect, soft skin of his scrotum between my
fingertips.

“Oh geez, Teresa,” David gasped, body rigid and
trembling. “Careful, I...” he thrust up and spurted warm jets of
cum down my throat. “Oh, god!” he groaned unevenly, as I swallowed
and milked the length of him until he started to soften in my
mouth.

David's breathing was labored as he dragged lungfuls
of air into his chest. His hands reached down to drag me up the
length of his body until my face hovered over his. “You missed
some,” he teased, licking the corner of my lips. Drawing me closer,
sucking my tongue into his mouth, he fused us together in a kiss of
such intensity and heat my body melted into the contours of
his.

“You have no idea how erotic it is to feel you suck
me down your throat. I love knowing my cum coats your mouth, salty
with a bitter edge to it.” His next kiss was no less passionate,
but more languid. Unhurried.

“I'm surprised you were interested in tasting
yourself on me,” I confessed. “Don't get me wrong, I think it’s
hot. I love the idea of a man who doesn't have boundaries in his
bed.”

“
Our
bed, Lover,” he corrected. “I will
confess to you now, I don't have any real limitations between us in
the bedroom. It’s a short list: no blood, no body wastes, and
no
means no. You have no hang-ups about me kissing you with
the flavor of your cream on my lips, why would I not be willing to
taste myself on yours?”

“Damn, you're sexy,” I grinned. “We are in agreement
about boundaries, although I admit I'm a little embarrassed to have
you state it so nonchalantly. I like that you’re forthright in what
you want, and you're blunt. I understand blunt. What are your views
on teeth and nails? I know you overheard me at Janey's, but I would
like to be sure I know where you draw the line.”

“I almost came when you sunk your teeth in my back.
What you did earlier was incredible; not too hard, and not deep
enough to hurt. I don't want to be scratched so deeply it creates
welts which last for days, but I still want to feel them scrape
over my skin. Digging into muscle like my ass or shoulder should be
okay, as I doubt your nails could dig in more than I'm willing to
enjoy.” He lifted his face to kiss me lightly. “If we get too
intense with each other and you accidentally scratch too deep,
that's okay. Sometimes you may lose control, and I'll consider it a
compliment.”

“Fair enough,” I replied, “and you need to remember
if you get lost in the moment and thrust too deep in my mouth, or
bruise me with your fingers, I'll consider it a compliment, as
well. Don't sweat the accidents, okay?”

“Agreed,” he said.

David's head turned toward the edge of the bed, “Hey,
Red. What's up pal?”

“
Are you guys ever planning to get out of
bed?

I repeated Red's question out loud. David lifted his
head, presumably to check the clock on the nightstand. “It’s only
six a.m. Red,” he complained.

“
But you've been awake for hours and hours,”
he exaggerated.

I repeated this to David, explaining a dog's
inaccurate concept of time.

Before either of us could frame a reply, Red chimed
in with,
“It’s not like all this mating will do you any good,
Teresa. You're not in heat right now.”

I was laughing hysterically as I translated Red's
latest comment. Amused, I said, “People are not like dogs when it
comes to mating. We like to have sex because it feels good and it’s
a way for us to show affection to each other.” I refused to get
into a long discussion with my dog regarding the nuances of sex and
relationships.

Heavy mental dog sigh.
“Well are you done yet so
we can play ball?”
I felt the weight of his head plop down on
the edge of the bed.

To David I asked, “Is he giving us his pitiful puppy
eyes? He wants to play ball.”

“Yeah,” David confirmed, “he's looking pretty
pathetic. Your dog is so abused, Teresa.”

“Don't you start,” I mock-warned. I leaned forward to
press a quick kiss somewhere in the vicinity of David's nose. Ha,
that
was
kinda fun; maybe that's why he's always doing it to
me. “I'll make coffee,” I said and rolled out of bed. “Get your
lazy butt moving, you slacker. You promised to play ball and wear
out my dog this weekend. Hop to it!”

I grabbed my robe off the hook behind my bedroom door
and wrapped it around my body. Coffee sounded like an excellent
idea.

****************

We had a wonderful Sunday. Unbeknownst to me, David
had kept an overnight bag in his new truck for the past week, just
in case, he told me; so fresh clothes and oral hygiene were not an
issue.

We had a picnic in the backyard where David played
numerous games of fetch with Red. That evening, we threw a salad
together and broiled a couple of steaks for our dinner. Yes, Red
finally got his steak bites.

For the first time, we touched upon the work David
and Bas were doing for the military. David developed a computer
program for satellite topographical mapping, which he sold to Uncle
Sam. The project involved mini-drones, infra-red, sonar, streaming
video, and a myriad of other bits of information which created
holographic imaging. There were many possible applications, but the
guys were focused on military security—offensive and defensive.
They partnered to develop PreClan Video, and were scouting
properties to set up their servers and workstations. Apparently
upgrades were ongoing, which included a good amount of testing, and
additional programming.

“I’m the code developer,” David explained between
bites of salad and steak. “It requires a lot of focus to create the
platform for the programs we plan, sell, and upgrade periodically.
Compared to me, Bas is somewhat scatter-brained.”

David must have caught my smile at the accusation
Bastian was absent-minded.

“No, no, that came out wrong,” he corrected. “I meant
that his abilities are more toward multi-tasking. He needs a lot of
different things to keep his brain stimulated. He works on the
program’s GUI as well as building drones, and fine-tuning the
cameras and other electronics. The guy is a genius with his
hands.”

Feeling more than satisfied sexually, it only flitted
briefly through my mind to consider how Bas might be a genius with
his hands. GUI, pronounced gooey, I knew from my days of computer
nerdism, stood for graphic user interface. “So, you’re saying you
write the program, and Bastian translates it to the menus, and
video output, through which the end user maneuvers through the
software?”

“Yeah. Exactly right. He makes it pretty,” David
laughed. “Most of the graphics for the video games can be credited
to him.”

“You guys are developing video games too?” I was
puzzled. When would they have the time if they were working on all
this top secret military stuff?

“We started out calling ourselves Preston-Declan
Video, but we later shortened it to PreClan. We wanted a front
business which provided some legitimacy for our more secretive
work. Bas came up with the idea of throwing out a video game every
year or two, and he is the one who does most of the work on those
while I’m buried in code. He sketched out a few video games when he
took some college computer graphics classes a few years back, and
we only had to fine-tune them for sale through our company. A few
of his video games are actually doing pretty well and showing a
respectable profit.”