Round Two

Round Two

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

The morning after.

Summary

The morning after.

Content

Submitted: October 22, 2016

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: October 22, 2016

A A A

A A A


It was mid-morning and Clara was half awake, her head foggy from the excessive drinking that took place the night before. Her bed was warm and she smiled, snuggling under her duvet. Movement from behind her shifted the mattress and her content smile turned into a wicked grin of triumph.

A purposeful throat clearing was followed by a tentative voice. “Should I… go?”

“Sure,” she replied, not turning over.

A silence followed. She waited for his weight to leave her bed but it didn’t. He still lay there. Her brows furrowed, confused, and Clara looked over her bare shoulder at her conquest. He was staring up at the ceiling, resting the back of his head on his forearm. Such strong arms, she wished she remembered how they felt around her but the night was just a blur.

“Well? Aren’t you going to go?” she asked. They usually couldn’t get out fast enough.

He chewed his lip, confusion causing a line to pinch between his brows. “I don’t want to.”

Then he turned and their eyes locked. Suddenly, Clara was incredibly proud of herself. The man was gorgeous. Blue eyes that shone like the clearest ocean. Shoulder length, golden hair, that looked so damn silky she just wanted to rub her face in it. His chest was half covered by her duvet but from what she could see (without looking like she was actually trying to see) was packed tight and delicious.

“You don’t want to?” she asked.

His eyes roved her face and she could feel a blush rising on her cheeks. The way he was looking at her face, the way his gaze didn’t even seem tempted to travel south to her exposed cleavage, took her by surprise.

“Do you need to be somewhere?” he asked. His voice was slightly crackly as he tried to keep his volume low.

Clara shook her head.

“Then… there’s no rush?”

She swallowed hard. “I guess not.”

He smiled softly and her heart pounded when she felt his hand gliding up her bare thigh underneath the covers. Desire pooled between her legs as he palmed her bum. She wanted to reach out and stroke his chest but she was nervous. It was silly. They had clearly done a lot of stuff last night if the state of her room was anything to go by. There were three used condoms hanging out of her bin, a bottle of lube near one of her high heels and her bra had somehow latched onto a picture frame on her wall. And yet when he touched her it felt brand knew. Because you’re actually sober, she inwardly rolled her eyes at the bitchy voice inside her head.

He seemed to notice her uncertainty and used his grip on her bum to pull her closer. She gasped and pressed her palms against his chest. His hard, muscular chest. Her mouth almost watered. Well, her hands were on him now, might as well have some fun.

She ran her fingers over his pecs, over his shoulders and down his biceps, mesmerized by the definition of his muscles and the softness of his slightly tanned skin. He shifted slightly and his hard cock pressed against her thigh. A moan emitted from her mouth that she was not expecting. He smiled at her wide eyes and his hand left her bum to cup her chin. He tilted her head to face him and before she knew it, his lips were on hers.

In an instant, she melted into him. The man knew how to kiss. His tongue was tender yet forceful, and when his hand slipped from her chin to grasp her throat, a memory flashed in her mind. They were in a club, presumably where they had met, and he had her pressed up against the wall by the dancefloor. His hand was around her throat in that perfect grip that was strong enough to hold her in place but not tight enough to choke her. She had been putty in his hands after that.

Fuelled by the memory, she began kissing him with more vigour. He took her sudden intensity in his stride and held her tighter, pressing his erection against her stomach. She was so hot against him. Her fingers were in his hair and it was as silky as it looked. He was then over her, his mouth escaping hers and latching onto her nipple. Her back arched and she was panting. He bit her swollen bud and she grabbed his head, holding him there. He knew hold she liked it. Just a little bit rough. Perhaps she had directed him the night before? Maybe he had tried out a variety of things on her to see what had her moaning the loudest? Damn, she wished she could remember!

Then his fingers were on her aching clit and she cried out, fisting the bedsheet. This man. This man… How had she found him. Or had he found her?

“Fuck me,” she pleaded. His shift in position had made her lose contact with his erection and missed the feeling of it pressed against her skin.

She was so wet. She could hear her juices as he rubbed her clit. So wet. So ready for him. He switched nipples and she looked down, seeing the love bite on her vacated breast.

She lifted her hips to guide his fingers into her but it just made him rub her clit more violently.

“Oh God.” Her eyes rolled back and her fingers knotted tighter into the bedsheet. Her orgasm was beginning to build. She could feel it like a wave inside her ready to crash and consume her. Her hips bucked against his assaulting fingers, craving the release.

Suddenly, two fingers pushed into her and she shuddered, silently riding her orgasm. He continued to fuck her with her fingers as her whole body tightened around him. She wanted to see him but she couldn’t open her eyes. The pleasure was so intense it left her slack. Her body wilted against the bed as he removed his fingers. Blinking away tears, she opened her eyes and saw him looking up at her. He was smiling softly, not in the overconfident way she was used to from men, but like he was happy in himself that he pleased her so well.

He lifted his fingers to his lips and licked them clean. The smell of her juices was thick in the air and seemed to stir a new hunger for him. And the way he kept his eyes on her as he tasted her sweetness… it was too much. She grabbed his face and kissed him hard. He tumbled over her but managed to balance his weight on his forearms. It was time. She needed him inside her. All of him.

She blindly stuck out her arm in search for her bedside drawer. Against her lips, she felt him smiling and he broke the kiss to help her. She managed to twist a little under his body and grab a condom. He took it from her eagerly and leaned back, straddling her. That was when she got a good look at what had been pressed against her (and what had already been inside her). He was so wonderfully big. Long and thick and damn she wished she could take him in her mouth and find out what he tasted like. But her need to have him inside her was too much, she couldn’t wait any longer.

She watched in awe as he rolled on the condom and sidled down her body to get into position. He grabbed her thighs and yanked her down the bed until his tip pressed against her aching centre. He rubbed her clit with the head of his cock and she whimpered. It was so tender now.

“Do you want me?” he whispered, his voice dark and husky.

Her hunger for him went sky high and another memory pierced her brain. They were walking back to her room. He already couldn’t keep his hands off her. Hugging her from behind, he leaned into her ear and whispered, “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t see straight”.

“Yes,” she panted, staring down at him.

A grin quirked up on his lips. “How badly?”

“So so bad. Get inside me. Fuck me. Please.”
And with one deep thrust, he was buried to the hilt inside her. They moaned together as he collapsed over her, hugging her close to his chest. He kept her close as he fuck her deep and slow. Her eyes rolled back as her fingers dug into his arms, his back, his neck. Then he was kissing her and it was so tender she wanted to cry.

“You feel so good,” he murmured as his lips brushed her neck. “So wet for me.”

“Harder,” she whimpered back.

He took her harder. He leaned back and pinned her down at her waist, fucking her hard and fast. She had a good view of him then. Tanned and ripped and sweaty. She wanted to grab him and pull him closer again, missing the contact, but in this position his was hitting just the right spot.

“Fuck. Yes,” she was panting, feeling the build up again. “Yes! Fuck!”

Her orgasm gripped her, owning her, taking her. Her hands were on his stomach, her fingers gipping the grooves of his abdomen as he continued to relentlessly thrust into her. Then he was thrusting faster and her orgasm was lengthening, not letting her go. Her whole body arched off the bed and she silently cried out her release. She could sense his desperation, his need to find his own release as he drove into her harder and faster.

And then she felt it. He pulsed inside her with a soft moan, before dropping over her. She wanted to clutch him, thankful to be close again. But her arms just flopped over his back. She was so tired. So spent. As was he as he panted softly over her. It was a few minutes before he rolled off. The cold air attacked her sweat coated skin and she closed her eyes, welcoming to breeze.

The sound of their heavy breathing filled the room and the rhythm was making her drowsy. But before she slept, a thought crossed her mind.

Clara cleared her throat but kept her eyes closed, embarrassed and not wanting to see his reaction. “By the way… what’s your name?”

To her relief, he laughed. “It’s James.”

She smiled and patted his thigh. “You did good, James.”


© Copyright 2017 PurpleSky. All rights reserved.

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