Lauren Blakely - Night After Night

“What’s good for the goose is good for the gander,” she said in that sexy, smoky voice that could lead him to say yes to anything she wanted.

“You tying me up?”

“Just a little bit,” she said, as she straddled him, sitting across his thighs. He felt the heat from her pussy even though she wasn’t close to touching his cock. Still, being near his favorite place made his dick throb. She pressed against him once more, reaching her arms around him. She tugged at his hands on the mattress, adjusting them behind his back. She wrapped the scarf around his wrists, tying them together.

“Hey Julia, I got a question for you,” he said as she tugged on the ends of the scarf.

“I grant you permission to ask.”

He chuckled. “I haven’t been with anyone in several months and I’m clean. How about you? Any chance you’re on birth control?”

She leaned back, looked him in the eyes. “I am indeed. You saying you want to feel me coming on your cock in just a few minutes?”

He narrowed his eyes and growled a hot yes.

“Then, you can come and play without a glove,” she said, gripping his cock in her fist. His hips nearly shot off the bed at her touch. Anything she did to him sent shocks of pleasure through his bones.

“I can not wait to feel your hot pussy surrounding me.”

“You won’t have to wait much longer, because I’m wet for you,” she said said, dropping her free hand between her legs and stroking herself.

His chest tightened and his dick throbbed in her hand. He watched her hungrily as she coated her fingers in her own wetness, then brought her finger to his lips.

“Rub yourself on me,” he instructed her.

“As you wish.” She traced his mouth and he licked his lips, drinking up the taste of her.

“More,” he said, and his blood flowed thick and heavy as she slipped her fingers inside her pussy, drawing out more of her delicious juices. She dragged her fingers against him once more, and this time, he sucked on her index finger, drawing it all the way into his mouth, lapping up every delicious ounce of her desire. “You taste fucking spectacular.”

“Oh I do, do I?” she said seductively, brushing her breasts against his chest.

“You do, Julia. I love your taste, and your smell, and right now you smell like you want me inside you.”

“I want to ride you so bad,” she said, and swiveled around, straddling him again, only this time her back was to him.

“You are a cruel woman. You know I want to touch your breasts right now.”

“And squeeze them too,” she added, as she positioned herself over him, rubbing the head of his cock between her legs. Heat seared in his body, like flames licking across his skin. She leaned her head back, her gorgeous red hair fanning out across his chest and his shoulders, taunting him. He craved the chance to grip it hard, and tug, and she knew it. As she rubbed her wetness over him, she licked his neck up to his ear, driving him mad with desire. “Ask for it,” she purred.

“Fuck me please,” he said, his breath jagged as lust poured through every inch of his body.

She sank down on him, and he groaned loudly. The feel of her hot pussy gripping him tight was like a fevered dream. But it was real, everything real and raw and lingeringly primal in the way she rode him, taking her time, rising up and down on his cock, riding him like he was her plaything, and he wanted nothing more than to be just that in this moment.

His hands itched to touch her, to grab her hips, to hold on hard to her beautiful breasts. But he knew she was the kind of woman who let herself be dominated, but in return sometimes she needed to take the reins. He let her have all the control, enjoying the view of her perfect body moving up and down on him as her moans grew louder, and more erratic, until she was shouting his name, and the feel of her hot cream gushing over his cock was all he needed to join her in climax.

The hot water beat down on his head and he soaped up Julia’s breasts. For the twentieth time. Though it might have been the thirtieth, or fortieth. Hard to count. They were too hard to resist.

“Hey, Mister. I’m pretty sure my breasts are scrub-a-dub clean. There’s not an ounce of dirt on them,” she said, poking his chest.

“Mmm…Let me just make sure,” he said, lathering them up once more. “You might be able to hypnotize me with these breasts.”

“You will do my bidding,” she said as she swayed her chest in a mesmerizing rhythm, then her hand quickly darted up and she snagged the soap from him. “Ha!” She held it up victoriously. “Now, I can finally get clean because this gal wants to go to sleep.”

He grabbed the soap back from her, tugged her sexy body against his. “Let me. I promise to wash the rest of you.”

“Fine,” she said, holding out her hands. “Have at me.”

He kneeled down in the shower, the water pelting his back as he washed her legs, then gently between her legs, then back up to her belly and down her arms. He rubbed the soap once more against his palms, then dropped it in the soap dish and washed her neck. She leaned her head back, exposing the delicious column of her throat to him. Tenderly, he ran his hands over her, then positioned her under the water and rinsed her off. He wrapped his arms around her, her trim waist fitting perfectly in his embrace. “Mmm. I like holding you,” he whispered, as he closed his eyes.

He could feel her smiling as she molded her body against his, taking what he was giving her. “I know,” she said in a soft, sleepy voice. “I like being held by you, Clay. And I’m so glad you’re here tonight.”

It was the so that took hold in his heart, finding purchase, tethering him to her. He thought he could deny himself. He almost believed he could forget her. But he was too far gone to let her go. She was his, and there were simply no two ways about it. She had to be in his life. “Me too.”

Soon, she broke the embrace, and took her turn washing him, working her nimble hands across his body, the mischievous look in her eyes telling him that she enjoyed touching him as much as he craved her touch. She stopped at his arm, running a finger along the lines of his tattooed bicep. “Passion,” she said, in a reflective voice. “This is so you. It’s perfect for you. You are the most passionate man I have ever known. You are passionate in your heart, and passionate in bed, and passionate in your beliefs, and in every single thing you do.”

He got him. She knew him. She understood who he was and what made him tick. It was heady being that connected to someone. “It’s easy to be passionate with you, Julia.”

“And thank you for letting me do that just now in the shower,” she said, trailing her fingers across his shoulder.

“For washing me?” He arched an eyebrow in question.

She nodded. “And for letting me tie your hands.”

“As I’ve said before, I’ve got no issues. No hangups. I’m pretty much game for anything and good to go.”

“I like that.”

“What about you? Anything you don’t want me to do?” He asked as she turned the shower off and handed him a towel, taking another one for herself.

She didn’t answer immediately; instead she folded her towel in half, then in quarters, the long way. He watched her curiously. She raised the towel to her eyes. A knowing grin broke across his face for having gotten her charade.

“Got it. No blindfolding.”

She returned to drying off. “I just like to be able to see, that’s all. Blindfolding is the only thing that I’m not wild about. And it’s not because I have some terrible past with trauma about blindfolding. But the thought of it makes me feel a bit too vulnerable, and for a woman with trust issues, well, I’m not sure it’s the best kind of kink for me.”

She hung up her towel on a hook and he did the same.

“There are many other forms of kink that I’m more than happy to try with you, Julia,” he said, then reached for her hand and led her back to her bedroom. Once they slipped under the covers, he wrapped his arms around her, then brushed her hair away from her ear. “I guess I’ll just have to imagine then how you’d look with my tie over your eyes, wearing nothing but stockings, sitting in a chair and touching yourself while I watch.”

She craned her neck to give him a curious stare. “Is that your fantasy?”

He nodded. “It is one of many.”

“Maybe someday, handsome. Maybe someday.”

“I have another fantasy,” he murmured softly in her ear, tugging her closer as they spooned.

“What’s that?” she asked curiously.

“Falling asleep with you in my arms.”

“I think that’s about to become your reality.”

“Lucky me.”

The pancakes were as delicious as promised.

With breakfast finished, they walked past a block full of graffiti art and consignment shops in the Mission district. An up-and-coming neighborhood full of hipsters and Internet startup folks, the shops here bore the evidence of the clientele, but there was an element to these few blocks that bothered him. He didn’t like the idea of her living in a neighborhood still plagued with crime and trouble, even if the numbers were improving. She was an independent woman though and it wasn’t his place to criticize where she lived.

“You like living here?” he asked, keeping the question casual.

“Sure,” she said with a laid back shrug as they sidestepped a sleeping homeless man. “There’s a kickass bakery a few blocks over, some fabulous coffee shops, and lots of boutiques that my sister loves, so I get to see her more often.”