I love it when you hold me. When your arms wrap around me, your body presses into me. The warmth of you, the safety.
A contented sigh as you brush my brown hair back away from my face and I cozy up into your chest. Your arms around me as I start to drift into sleep.
Something stats to dig into my leg. I giggle, half asleep, trailing my arm down your body and coming to rest on your bulge, tracing my fingers over it through your boxers. Not fishing it out, not yet, just playing with it. Wrapping my hand around it, tugging it gently toward me. Exploring you.
A soft sound escapes your lips. A groan. It’s been a few days since we’ve been together. I was on a work trip, and both of us were sad to sleep in separate beds. I only got home two hours ago. There wasn’t time for anything more, just dinner and a shower and bed. Now the scent of my shampoo, my clean skin brushing against you, is making you hard for me.
I fish your cock out now, run my thumb over your tip, along the ridge of your head. I feel your moan, your arms tightening around me. Your hot breath in my ear, “why don’t you use your mouth, sweetheart?”
A soft giggle escapes me, bubbles out. “But I like it when you hold me. I don’t want to stop being so close to you.” I’m being coy. Your hand comes down to my panties, pulls them to the side and sinks a finger into my hot cunt. This time the sound is mine, as you whisper how wet I am, and your finger slides up to run over the bump of my clit.
“Let’s compromise then,” you say, and you turn onto your back, bringing me with you. Your cock is out still, hot in my hand, pulsing with your heartbeat. But your breath is even and controlled. You move your hand from my pussy to place on my hip, your other holding me already on the other side. We both position me, me moving my panties out of the way, positioning you at my entrance.
I slide in, and we both sigh. I missed the feeling of you inside of me. Your cock throbs in me, and I clench around it like a vice. It’s slow. It’s so good, sliding up and down you, coating you with my juices, leaning over and moaning into your ear. Running my tongue around it, sucking your earlobe into my mouth to nibble on while you slide in and out of me. Slowly.
It’s a tease, and we need more. We need something more immediate, more passionate. You sit up, bringing me with you, your cock scraping against my insides and making me jump as it hits the sensitive spot inside of me. And then I’m sitting on top of you, my face so close to yours, your eyes on me. You want to watch this. The biting of my lip, the trembles in the muscles of my face. You want to watch me as I move up and down, a bit faster now. Your hands coaxing my hips to go deeper, grinding into you.
“Like this,” you say quietly, showing me the tempo that I should take, rocking my hips back and forth over you, rolling my hips in your hands. My fingers tightening on the back of your neck, fingernails digging into your skin slightly as I stare into your eyes. You move a hand, then, sliding it between us. Your thumb on my clit, rolling in a soft circle. I tilt my head back and moan at it, the texture of it, sliding over my sensitive nub, your finger already slick with my own juices.
Your other hand comes to my hair, twists into it, the sharp tug of you bringing my face back to yours. “Eyes on me, little one,” you say, before you press our lips together. I moan into you, and the sound is lost somewhere in your mouth. You swallow it as you continue to circle me, to flick over my clit, as I continue to move my hips like you showed me, up and down on your hard cock. Like stone, pressing against my cervix, making me gasp every time I press down into you, grind into your pelvis, your hand.
You pull back, our eyes meet. Can you see the emotion in mine? Yours are cold, aloof. I don’t know what you’re thinking. But I’ve never been good at hiding emotions, and you can read everything I want and need. Not just from my eyes, but from the response of my body. The hard nipples, pressing through my cotton tank top, begging to be played with. The wetness of me, the way that my pussy tightens around your cock when you speak, when you call me names, when you fuck me.
Your finger speeds up and I mewl. I press my legs up and down faster, bouncing on top of you, my moans punctuated by the small gasps when I slam down on your cock. My fingers moving down your arms, tracing your skin.
“Do you want me to tie those hands behind your back?” you ask. “Do you want me to bind them, so you’re truly helpless to this assault?” You’re looking into my face, but you move your mouth closer to my ear, to whisper. “Do you want to be helpless for me, baby?”
“Yes,” I say softly, and the hand in my hair pulls me up, encourages me to come up off your cock with the pain. I follow it until it releases and I fall back down onto you, impaling myself.
I cry out, and you do it again. I try to keep my eyes on yours, so you can see the torment in my face. Your thumb hasn’t let up, and I’m tensing. If I were silent, you’d know just as well. From the tensing of my muscles, the steady give and take of their contractions, the way that I twitch around you, the wetness that escapes me.
“Please,” I manage as you continue the assault. Pull up, release. Pull up, release. Pull up, release. My scalp burns, my skin prickling. I can feel my orgasm there. “Please, Sir. Please.”
“Please what?” You ask. Your tone is still bored, still emotionless. Still toying with me. Your thumb increases in speed.
“Please let me cum,” I say softly. It’s been so long. A week now, daily teasing. My body aches for it.
“Oh, baby,” you say, and you stop pulling my hair, pulling me close to you instead, your lips next to my ear. I can hear your lips part, know before you speak. “Don’t you dare, darling. You know you’re not allowed to cum.”
Even saying the word brings me closer. I squirm against you, and your hand leaves my hair to move back to my hip, holding me still as you thrust up into me now, your cock hitting the entrance to my womb over and over and over.
“Please—“ I beg, biting my lip. You laugh, stare into my eyes, see the torment there. “Please, please, please.”
“No,” you say softly. Your thumb leaves my clit and a soft noise escapes me. I need it back. But it’s only a moment before your hand comes down on my backside. Once, twice, three times. Making me grind into you, your hand still holding me steady as you thrust up over and over. Such a repetitive motion shouldn’t feel so good, but it does.
Your hand goes back to my clit, rubbing it with fervor. You’re going to make me. Even if I don’t have permission, the way you rub me is going to push me over. I tense every muscle in my body, I beg, I plead. I don’t know what I’m asking for. To cum, for you to stop, for you to rub faster. I want to explode, I want to be your good girl. I want to grip you like a vice, I want you to leave me crying in frustration.
“I’m going to cum, baby,” you say softly, and your hand goes up to my throat, gripping it. Your thumb slides over my jaw, my lips. I stare into your eyes, tortured. You don’t want me to speak anymore. Your hand doesn’t tighten, just sits there. It reminds me that I’m yours. All of me is yours.
I don’t beg, but I want to. For something different now. For you. For your cum, inside of me, painting my womb, splattering up. I want to feel it drip out of me all night, held in place by my panties. In the morning I want them to be soaked with us. I grip down around you, I move my hips, I grind into you. I meet your upward thrusts with downward swings. Your thumb is on my lips, but I beg you with my eyes.
Cum inside of me. Your demeanor is breaking, just at the edges. Your breath a bit more ragged, your eyes closing for a moment at the feeling of me wrapped around you. I’m still begging. With my body pressed against yours, my hands on your back, urging you into me. Cum inside of me.
With a groan you release thick ribbons of your seed into me. I can feel them, see it in your face. I moan, rocking my hips over you. The backlog of your cum spilling into me, filling me completely, dripping out onto your pelvis.
You roll me over until I’m on the bed again, fuck me gently with the remnants of your orgasm, until you pull out with a pop and pull me into you, your hands stroking my hair, telling me what a good girl I am, telling me how much you needed it. While I lay wanting to squirm, still turned on, my own orgasm lost and denied inside of me.
You hold me until I fall asleep, whispering how much you love me.
I’m too tired to tell you that I love you, too.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/3akiie/a_late_night_ride_mf_lightmdom