Can't Get Enough (9 page)

Now comes the hard part. The long, drawn-out hill, the last climb toward home. Trying to make the most of my momentum, my legs start pumping the pedals. Heat builds in the muscles of my thighs and buttocks, matching the fire that your text started deep within me. My panties are damp, making me slip and slide against the saddle. Each rotation of the pedals presses me from side to side. Each turn of the wheels brings me closer to home. And each grind of my hips against my bicycle deepens the need in me for you.

I'm panting with the exertion of peddling up the hill. But that's not the only thing making me pant. The sensations coursing through my body match the images in my mind. I need to reach you in time, before you reach your moment of
no return. The pumping, grinding, pushing, gasping ascent is relentless. It goes on forever. I'm sweating now and tiring, but never for one minute will I consider getting off the bicycle and walking. It's simply not an option.

When I reach the top of the hill my mouth is dry and my muscles are burning. I think about kissing you, on the lips and in other places, and my mouth floods with saliva. I can quite literally taste you: the sweetness of your mouth when you've been drinking wine, the salt of perspiration on your skin, the bittersweet taste of precum on the end of your cock. I'm hungry for you. Starving. I want to devour you and I can't wait.

The road from here is straight and flat. I pedal hard enough to build up speed and then lift my feet from the spinning pedals. Flexing my hips backward and forward produces the most delicious sensation. I am so ready for you, no matter what you have in mind or what you want to do. My skirt flips up in a gust of wind and for a second I get a whiff of musk, the smell of my own anticipation. It turns me on even more, and I feel a warm rush between my legs. I'm wet, I'm sticky: I need you.

My feet find the pedals again for the final push. I fiddle with the gears to help me accelerate, though I'm already going as fast as I can. I'm nearly at the junction, the turn into the lane where we live. I pull up sharply to avoid a car that is indicating left, cursing the second that this will cost me. When my path is clear I push off again, and finally I am in our road.

A hundred yards or so, but my legs are complaining bitterly now. I am almost out of breath. But the vision of you keeps me going. We live in an old part of town, in a tiny cottage at the end of this narrow lane. Nothing has changed for a hundred years and beneath my wheels there are still cobblestones. Barry the bike judders and shudders and bumps on the uneven surface, the vibrations passing through the metal frame and the leather
saddle. I sit back heavily on my seat and as the vibrations spin along my nerves and shiver through my bones, I can't pedal quite so hard. The bicycle shakes beneath me, sending tremors up my spine. Inside my mind, you are underneath me, bumping and grinding, taking me to the brink, pushing me over the edge.

Ohhhh…

I can't hold it. It's too late. I'm coming.

I stop the bike and slump forward over the handlebars as uncontrolled pleasure flashes through me. I stand there in the street and think of you as my orgasm rips through me. I gasp and hang on to the bicycle to stop myself from sinking to the ground.

I'm so sorry, babe, I didn't make it home to you. You'll be waiting and wanting on our bed, and I'll walk in sweaty and spent. It happened again. It always happens.

It's those damned cobbles.

They get me every time.

EMBRACEABLE YOU

Blair Erotica

A
s she slipped out of the bed, a glimpse of her smile, captured out of the corner of his eye, caught his attention. It wasn't her satisfied, what-a-night-we-had kind of smile, even if it had been that kind of night. No, this was her sneaky, crafty smile, the kind she put on when she had something devious in mind.

He ran his eyes over the lines of her body the same way he had run his hands over her earlier, in the early hours of the morning. Looking at her always made him think of the Gershwin song “Embraceable You.” Well, maybe she didn't bring the song to mind, but the title for sure.

He wondered what her smile meant. What could she have in mind? Although she had a knack for coming up with delightful schemes and sexy drama, like the time she seduced him in an alley (well, he didn't make her try all that hard), this morning there wasn't time for any devilish plots. She was getting up to leave on a business trip; she had to catch some insanely early flight.

He sighed at the idea of being without her for an entire
week, the emptiness he'd feel being without her company and body. He had nothing special going on at work to fill his time; nothing in particular to throw himself into; nothing to consume the extra hours.

It would be a long week.

He imagined it would be easier for her as she would be going to London for the first time, meeting important clients and staying busy. It was easy to expect that the days and even the nights would go by quickly for her.

His best shot was to get together with some old college buddies for a poker game or something, but that didn't promise a week's worth of distraction. But that was life.

She had done her best to make certain he knew that she would miss him too—body and soul. When they came home from dinner that evening, the night before her departure, she had him sit on the couch while she fixed drinks. When she walked toward him, the movement of her hips made her slinky black dress wiggle in the most enticing way. Then she handed both glasses to him and bent down to kiss him. Before he knew what was happening, she knelt down and undid his pants, took his cock in her small hand and guided it between her moist lips. Then that devilish smile beamed up at him as she sucked his cock.

Afterward he ate her too, of course, just hiking her dress to her waist and pushing her lacy panties to one side and running his tongue into all the places that made her quiver. Sexy enough, perhaps, but it just got them both fired up.

As he recalled the evening, he remembered that those drinks were still in the living room, untouched, and he laughed.

“What are you laughing at?” she asked.

“We never drank the drinks you fixed,” he said.

Her eyes glowed. “It's okay; I got enough to drink.” Then she kissed him and headed into the bathroom.

They had done what they could to fill up on the joy of each other's bodies but no night was long enough for that. Still, they had made a valiant effort.

“I'm glad it's a long flight,” she had said by way of weak protest early in the morning, when he tucked the front of his body against her half-asleep back and then lifted her leg so that he could press his hard cock into her cunt. “I am going to need some rest.” Then, as he drove his cock into her, her eyes rolled back and her hand touched his cock where it separated her labia. “It really is good that I can sleep on the plane.”

Unfortunately, he decided, lust was something that you couldn't satisfy ahead of time. It couldn't be made to work like some prepaid phone card. No matter how often or how many ways they coupled, it did nothing for the tomorrows that lay ahead. He knew he would be wanting her the moment she was gone. His brain and body worked that way.

“You can't just fuck your brains out and have the feeling stay with you long enough,” he moaned. But the truth was, with her, wanting her didn't ever really stop. It amazed him that when they were together, he found himself thinking of how he wanted to take her the next time, or anticipating what she might do, even before he had even recovered from the last time he had spent inside her eager body.

Although she was as bad as he was, she teased him about it. Her teasing was erotic too, as she did it in ways that ensured he knew it flattered and pleased her that he wanted her so much, so often.

Now, hearing the water run in the shower, he thought of getting up and joining her. It was fantastic to slip into the shower and touch her slippery naked body, with shampoo streaming down over her breasts, her ass, her pussy. More than once he had wrapped his arms around her and let her feel him throbbing
against her, then let her brace herself with her hands on the wet tiles of the wall, while he fucked her from behind.

This time he resisted the temptation. She had to be on time for the plane. Once he started…well, she wouldn't make it to the airport on time, not unless she told him no, and she didn't like to do that. He sighed. Her ass was so lovely, so pleasant in his hands, whether he took her from behind or put his arms around her to clutch her ass and pull her against him while she wrapped her legs around him, digging her heels into him. Thoughts of her ass made him tingle. They hadn't done anal in a while, he realized, and it suddenly seemed a significant omission.

“That is a lovely picture you've conjured up,” he said out loud, feeling his cock swell. “And I doubt it will help.”

When he heard the water shut off he realized it was too late to change his mind. Then the hair dryer hummed softly and he thought about how she would sit in the chair in the bathroom, with a towel wrapped around her but usually slipping down off her breasts, as she dried her hair. She kept it short, so it didn't take long, but it was sexy to watch.

She came back in the room with a towel around her, but she dropped it to the floor, smelling of soap and shampoo. As she began dressing he watched her ass and could also see her front reflected in the full-length mirror. She had set out her clothes the day before, and now she put them on slowly. It was the armor of the office: silk blouse, stockings, heels, panties, skirt. Nothing special, but as she dressed it added up to a woman that, for him, was far more than the sum of the parts.

He lazed on the bed, his cock throbbing, wondering if he could convince her to give him a blow job before she left. Of course that would just delay the inevitable getting horny again. But a delay was good, wasn't it? Better to suffer later than now.

Because she stood with her back to him, that luscious ass,
wrapped in tight cotton, was right there by his face. He reached out to put his hand between her legs. His hand touched her thigh, feeling the stockings under his fingers, and she turned her head to smile down at him with that crafty smile again. It seemed like a challenge. He moved his hand up under her skirt and she didn't protest, although she pretended to be preoccupied with buttoning her blouse. When his fingers worked their way under the elastic of her panties she fidgeted, but her legs opened a bit for him.

He heard her catch her breath when his fingers pressed the lips of her cunt open.

This, he thought, was where she had to stop him; he couldn't stop himself any longer. His fingers moved into her warm cunt, caressing the folds, hunting down her clitoris, and she bent forward slightly, putting her hands on the mirror and moaning softly as he found it.

It was gorgeous watching her reflection, her mouth opening, making a small
O
as his fingers teased and aroused her. He twisted on the bed to get his other hand between her legs, slipping those fingers inside the other leg of her panties to explore her vagina. She was soft and moist, and he let his fingers play with her as they would—little creatures of pleasure who lived solely to burrow into her cunt and toy with her.

And he felt her hips jerk, her vagina convulse, and he knew he had brought her off.

He freed his fingers from the tangle of cunt flesh and panties and sat up, grabbing her by the waist and putting her facedown on the bed. He tugged her skirt up to her waist and pulled her panties down around her knees, and then he straddled her legs. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands back to her ass.

“That ass has been calling me all morning,” he said. “Show it to me,” and her fingers pulled her asscheeks apart.

He sighed at the sight of her anus, and reached to the nightstand where they kept the tube of lubricant. While she held herself open to him, he squeezed it onto her anus and then pressed a fingertip on the little hole and worked it inside, loving the sensation of the tight ring. She moaned and the wiggle she gave her hips as his finger penetrated her excited him.

He finger-fucked her ass and when he felt her relaxing, he took out his finger. “Time for the grand entrance,” he said lying on her and guiding his cock to her anus. He had fucked her ass before, but never liked this, with her legs held together, and it made entering her even tighter than usual. When the tip slipped inside, her anus gripping his cock as if it wanted to hold it inside, he grabbed her wrists and spread her arms out over her head. He lowered himself over her and with a jerk of his hips began taking her ass.

The sensation of his cock in her ass was incredible. Well, he liked his cock in her almost any way, and she loved to take it in every way they had tried so far. He wanted to drive deep inside her, but this way his thrusts were held a bit short. Still, it was glorious.

“You are fucking my ass while I am almost completely dressed,” she hissed. “You insatiable lover.”

And he knew she was loving it too.

After he came, spending himself in the tight confines of her ass, he lay on her, feeling the intensity of the moment soften into a gentle sense of well-being. He found himself thinking about fixing them a breakfast. A mimosa and, for some reason, he thought of ham sandwiches with the special ham he had brought home from the deli the day before. They would eat and then, when life came back into him, he would ask her to ride his cock….