‘Oh,’ I say, surprised by the unfamiliar sensation, the rush of pure desire. The heat between my legs. And a wanting that I have never felt for any other man, except Jack, obviously.
‘You like that?’
‘Yes,’ I whisper in the dark. I shouldn’t just be lying here. I should be doing something back to him. But I don’t know what to do with my trembling, aroused body. In fact, I don’t have the first clue how to seduce this worldly, rugged stranger who is clearly, clearly very experienced and sophisticated. I watch him with widened eyes.
He carries on suckling. The pleasure is exquisite. I close my eyes and arch into his mouth. Suddenly my eyes fly open with shock. He bit me! The pain flares out. He puts his finger on my lips. ‘Shhhh…’
The tip of my breast throbs as he puts his palm flat on my belly. I note the desire to meld my body to the silky smooth hardness of his body, hazily. To feel it brushing against my skin as it moves in and out, in and out. In an alcoholic haze I run my hand down the silky muscles, washboard stomach, down, down, down… Erect, thick, mine. Strange how possessive I feel of this stranger’s engorged pillar of meat.
I look into his eyes. It has become darker in the room. Impossible to make out the expression. Only the gleam. Like that of a wolf or some night-foraging animal. My legs become numb with desire. He takes my hand in his and makes me swipe my own sex. Jesus, I am soaking wet.
‘Juicy Julie,’ he says, his voice two octaves lower.
And suddenly I cannot bear the anticipation anymore, the tension building inside me, the ferocious hunger to just f**k his brains out. I just want the tight wet heat inside me to be filled up. To the f**king hilt. I grasp his fingers and push them as deep as they will go into my wet core. My movements are frenzied. Unlike me. I am never this greedy. I was right: two fingers are not enough. I need this man’s meat buried deep inside my womb.
I let my hands reach down for his. Solid and heavy and satiny smooth. I want the release I have never had, the one that comes from a c**k rammed deep inside me. I begin to move my hands up and down the shaft. Lubrication, Julie. Lubrication.
The other two had wanted me to suck them. I don’t like giving blow jobs.
A) Cocks don’t taste good raw.
B) I’m just not good at it.
C) It’s not pretty, saliva, se**n.
D) I don’t enjoy it.
So no thanks. Still, Lana has learnt how to deep throat and… I guess I should at least practice some before I take Jack between my lips. I move my mouth towards his shaft. He wraps one hand over the front of my throat. It stops me cold.
‘This one’s on me, candy girl,’ he whispers in my ear, trailing a finger down my stomach, stopping on my pubic bone.
Suddenly the bed shifts. Digging his elbow into the mattress he cups my bu**ocks in his hands and using his thumbs pries open my inner thighs as he lifts me up to his lips. Very much as if I am a bowl that he intends to drink from. He doesn’t drink; he sucks me out. As a schoolboy sucks a toffee. Greedily, with great relish, using his whole mouth, determined to draw out all its flavor and swallow every last bit.
And me, I just moan, squirm and bleat like some dumb animal.
I also cry out whenever he jams his tongue into me. My voice seems foreign to me, as if it belongs to a stranger. He goes from the clit to the hole and back again to the clit over and over until my eyes open to something good and beautiful. I thought the orgasm would never stop. It just went on forever. And when the crown of my head is pushed deep into the pillow and my body is done arching and twisting, he buries his fingers inside and begins to stroke and massage the muscles he finds deep inside me, until they ripple uncontrollably in response and I am tingling all over. It is only then that I realize it is the beginning of another climax. One that I had not rushed towards, one that began in a different place inside my body.
‘That’s twice,’ he says.
My legs are jelly. I’ll have to send a thank you note to Fat Mary.
‘Open all the way for me,’ he says and I hear the tear of the foil wrap. More? Now? Yes, baby.
Seconds later he pushes his c**k inside me, but so slowly I want to scream. Fucking millimeter by millimeter. And when he reaches the end, he grinds himself against me and I swear, I scream. And if I didn’t my clit does. And just as I think I might be reaching the edge and falling over again he withdraws himself. Slowly, but surely all the millimeters go. And like the tide he comes back in. It goes on following a coded rhythm until I am a boneless, mindless mass of nerve endings and desperate flesh.
The technique is sensational and terrifying. Now I know I am nothing like what I thought. I secretly thought I was borderline frigid. I thought sex with all its smells and emissions was disgusting. What those three guys did to me shouldn’t even be called sex. This is a whole different league. His tongue, velvety on the surface and shantung silk underneath, finds its way into my mouth.
I suck it.
Skewered by his thick shaft, I move in unison with him, encouraging the sawing of his c**k against my clit. An erotic tango. Ah, the sensations. I feel myself building again. My spirit is pressed up against his. We are connected at an indefinable level. We have become one four-legged animal.
I know it is coming, but I am unprepared for the ferocity of the rupture that rips right though me. So explosive that my entire body shudders and vibrates with it and my insides feel like they have melted and are sloshing around hotly inside me.
But he does not stop or allow me time to recover, he carries on pumping into my molten core. His movements so rapid and urgent that they quickly become mine too. This isn’t lovemaking anymore. This is pure f**king. And the rest of the world can go to hell.
Then he does something to me I never would have thought I could respond to. He brings his mouth very close to my ear and whispers a one word erotic appeal: come.
And, f**k me, as if I am some sort of push button doll that he owns or as if I really am part of a four-legged animal, I do: groaning, twisting, my hips spasming and carried along on a rush of delirious pleasure. Somewhere on the periphery of my consciousness I feel him jerk and explode inside me. When the world drops back around me he is on his elbows looking at me. I stare at him. Wow! I didn’t know it could be like that. If I felt that with this stranger, that I am not even sure I like yet, what am I going to feel when I do it with Jack?
His eyes seem dark in the dimness. He is still firm inside me. I don’t move. Whatever is between us is gossamer thin. Even a breath expelled too hard would break it. We have exchanged fluids and essences, we have touched spirits, but there will be no wedding cake, no marquee full of flowers, no champagne toasts, no guests for us. For ours is only a brief interlude, fleeting like the sound of children’s laughter as you pass a neighbor’s garden. Then wasteland. The thought is strangely bitter.