This (obviously) is part two. It won’t make much sense plot-wise without reading part one, but will still be fun.
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I strode forward, set the glass on the coffee table, and easily slid one knee onto the couch beside him. I put my hands on his shoulders and swung my other leg over him until I straddled his lap on my knees, my breasts just under his chin and my eyes conveying to him what I was after.
For a moment the world held still, the noise from the television died away, and we held our breath. Then his hands reached out. Slowly at first, as if he couldn’t quite believe he was doing it, then quickly. One hand gripped my thigh tightly and the other moved around to my back and he pulled me into him even as he sat forward to meet me. His lips crashed into mine with the intensity of years of built up tension. I slid my hand into his hair at the back of his head, unable to resist pressing him tighter to me.
He made a quiet noise of yearning into the kiss and hitched his hips up against me, his rough jeans rasping against the soft cloth of my leggings. My head jerked back and I sucked in a gasp. A shiver of pleasure worked its way up my spine, and I saw him watch me, saw him savor the view of me reacting to his touch. Before I could recover he leaned in and kissed down the side of my neck to my shoulder, then right back up again to just below my jaw.
The hand on my thigh squeezed once while he kissed along my neck, then loosened and drifted higher. I could feel his fingertips through my leggings, feel them searching higher and higher. My throat tightened in anticipation, wondering how far he would go. Would he go straight for my core? Would he pull away my clothing and lay me bare? But he didn’t, not yet. His hand stayed a few inches away from what I’m sure he wanted to touch, just close enough that my attention was pulled to it every time I shifted my weight.
I looked down at him and asked him to lean his head back by gently pulling on his hair. He obliged, looking up at me with reverie. Seeing that in him gave me confidence, and I rocked my hips forward and back on his lap. The expression on his face twisted into agonized ecstasy, his lips parting and his eyebrows coming together. Even through our clothing I could feel his shaft growing beneath me. The zipper flap of his jeans rubbed into my clit, making me shudder, and as I moved against him again a small whimper of pleasure slipped from my throat.
“Oh fuck,” he growled, and I could see his skin stand up in goosebumps. His hand tightened on my thigh in a way that might have hurt if it didn’t feel so good.
I wanted him to move higher, to find my clit with his fingers and stroke me until I couldn’t speak in intelligible English anymore. I knew he had a dominant streak a mile wide to match my submissive side, he could take control of what we were doing. But that side of him was private, and he’d only let it show if he completely trusted me. So for now I’d have to be in control.
He buried his face in my neck again, kissing and nipping at my skin as if he loved the taste of me while my hand wandered over his torso. Under his shirt I could feel the taught, wiry muscle of his pecs and he writhed when my finger grazed over his nipple. I did it again, my thumb rubbing gently over his nipple, and he bit down hard on my neck in response, sucking in a breath around my flesh. I moved lower, my palms exploring his abs for a brief moment before continuing on. My fingertips found the hem of his jeans and I ran a nail along it, left hip to button and back again. Goosebumps raised again on his skin, encouraging me. My fingertip slipped under the fabric and ran the track once more, left hip to button and back, this time pressed tightly to his pelvis by the pressure of his pants. His steady flow of kisses faltered and all I felt on my skin was his hot breath wrapping around me.
My hand drifted to his button and stayed there. I gently tugged on the fabric the button was keeping in place. “Can I…” I trailed off.
“Yesss,” he moaned, then went back to worrying my neck. Both of his hands shifted to my hips, then back up onto my back, under my shirt this time. His hands were calloused and needy, and I reveled in the sensation of him pulling me into him.
I deftly popped open his button, then pulled down his zipper. The metal was warm. The sound and feel of it coming undone was so satisfying, almost as satisfying as the feel of his cock, still hidden away in his boxers, under my hand as I cupped it.
Trey groaned into the nape of my neck as I ran my hand along his length and rocked my hips. His right hand, so large on my relatively small torso, drifted from my back, over my ribs, to rest just below one cup of my bra. For a long moment he caressed me there, stroking my skin in large circles, then his thumb found its way under the lace and his fingertip teased lightly at the underside of my breast. I felt my nipples harden. I leaned my head down so my lips were next to his ear so he could better hear my soft moan.
A few more seconds of his teasing and I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up abruptly on wobbly legs, my breath coming quickly. Trey leaned forward as I got up, looking up at me with eyes that asked why I’d stopped while showing how much he’d like to continue.
In one smooth motion I pulled my shirt over my head and dropped it to the floor at my feet. His gaze drifted down to take me in, admire my breasts framed in lace. I took a step back to invite him to follow me and he stood as well. Without hesitating I reached out and pulled up the hem of his shirt, my fingers brushing against him as I stripped it away and let it join mine on the floor.
He was wonderful to look at; muscular, but not bulging. Wiry, thin, like a long distance runner. His skin was smooth and bare, no hair to hide my view of his body, and his nipples were rosy and invited me to taste them.
So I did. I stepped forward, though I didn’t have to lean very far down, and lathed my warm tongue against the satiny skin of one nipple. He threw his head back and let loose a full-throated moan that sent a zing up my spine and right back down it. His hand moved to gently rest on the back of my head, an encouragement not a demand, and I continued, drawing little circles with my tongue.
When I’d worked him into a proper state I pulled back and looked up to him, my chest against his.
“Oh, Kate,” he said with lust and need in his voice. He bent to kiss me again, his hand still entwined in my hair. I embraced him, then lifted up my left leg to wrap around his right, our hips meeting. He held me tight against him and leaned into me, making me bend backwards to continue kissing him. I could feel his member straining against his boxers and pressing into my pelvis. It set my clit throbbing and the muscles of my thighs twitched in readiness.
I dropped my leg back to the floor, and as soon as I started to pull away from him he let me go. I saw the fire in his eyes as I stepped back again, and I could see that he knew that I wanted him just as much as he wanted me.
My hand reached out and took his. “Come with me,” I said breathlessly. Heat radiated off of him as I led him through my small house to my bedroom. I was thankful now for the way I’d left it: tidy, but not immaculate. It felt like home, which made it easier for me to drop his hand, hook my fingers into my leggings, and pull them down to my ankles. I stepped one foot out of the pooled fabric, then kicked it away with the other, turning to look at Trey as he loomed over me.
“You’re beautiful,” he said. He took a long moment just to admire me, drinking in the sight of me standing before him. I felt powerful then, watching him react to me, knowing what just looking at me was doing to him. He reached out to run a hand over my shoulder to my back and down to my waist. I shivered at the touch. I could feel his gaze just as easily as I could feel his skin on mine. “I want to taste you.”
My breathing hitched, but I nodded, eager. One step back and I bumped into the bed, then wiggled my way back onto it, my legs spread just enough to be an invitation.
He stepped into me, guiding my thighs further apart with firm pressure and standing between my legs with his contained cock pressed against my entrance. He kissed me again, his lips feather light on mine, but I could feel the barely restrained ferocity. While his mouth teased and played with me his hands roamed all over my body, hot and rough to balance my cool, smooth skin.
Just as I became accustomed to his mouth he took it away, abandoning my lips in favor of kissing a trail down my body. He moved down my neck and chest, lingering a long moment on the swell of my breast as it peaked above my bra, his tongue teasing at the edge of the fabric, then continued down my abdomen to my hip. He dropped long, yearning kisses on the lace of my panties there, then moved slowly inward toward my mound.
I wanted to let my head loll back to better enjoy the feel of him, but I wanted more to watch him work between my legs. His shimmering curls shifted as he moved, and while I couldn’t see much of his face, I could see that the way he kissed me made it seem like he wanted to take a bite out of me.
He made his way over my mound, and just as I thought he was going to kiss my lips, he paused. His head tilted back and he looked up at me with those big green eyes. I was confused as to why he’d stopped. Until he opened his mouth and exhaled a hot breath onto my skin. I could feel it through my panties, the heat and the motion, the anticipation. I closed my eyes and moaned, the sensation washing over me just like his breath and my core convulsing in response.
Just when I started to recover and my eyes fluttered back open I felt his tongue, with just enough pressure for me to feel it and not an ounce more, trace a line along my panties from my mound down to my entrance.
I sucked in a breath through my teeth, then whimpered in delighted agony. I wanted him, needed him, needed desperately for him to touch me again. I marveled at the restraint he was showing; I knew how much he wanted me, and he had me at his fingertips, but he was taking his time, and it was driving me wild.
Gently, carefully he pulled the lace away from my body, guiding my paties off of me and letting them drop to the floor. With nothing between him and my pussy I felt self consciousness bubbling up in my head. But, by the way he was appreciating the view before him, there was no reason to feel that way.
He moved in slowly, again breathing on me and licking at me delicately enough to make me quiver. The anticipation was driving all doubts and worries out of my head and all I could think about was the need for his tongue. I reached down and ran a hand through his hair, pushing him gently, egging him on.
One more time he gently teased along my slit, making me clench my teeth around a groan and wonder how long he would torture me. But that seemed to send him over the edge and he drove his tongue deeper between my labia.
I called out wordlessly and my fingers tightened in his hair. I couldn’t feel anything at all except the silkiness of his hair in my hand and the ecstasy of him lapping at me, savoring my taste. One of his arms wrapped around my leg so he could grip me and his free hand gently pulled at the skin of my inner thigh, opening me up to him so that he could see just exactly what he was playing with.
He took up a steady pace, expertly hitting my clit with every pass in a way that made my pussy tense. I began to work my hips opposite his tongue, yearning to feel absolutely everything he had to offer me. My breath came quicker and quicker until I was panting like I’d just run a marathon.
But it wasn’t until he moved his hand from my thigh to my entrance that I felt the beginnings of an orgasm approaching. He slipped one finger into me, then another, and began to slowly thrust them in and out of my pussy. I moaned for him and collapsed onto my back to lay flat on the bed.
Knowing just what he was doing to me, he picked up the pace. His tongue and his hand worked in tandem, and my hips ground against him, begging for more. Faster and faster he pumped his fingers into me until he was thrusting hard and slamming home with each thrust. His tongue hit every nerve ending I had as he lapped at me, keeping perfect time.
As he kept on I felt my walls contract around his fingers. My orgasm came closer and closer and I closed my eyes, focusing with everything that I had on what he was doing to me. My eyebrows came together as I came closer and closer, and I held my breath.
And then I exploded over the edge, stars dancing across my vision and sparks scattering throughout my body. I couldn’t help but shout “Trey! Oh!” as I clung to him, riding out wave after wave of pleasure.
As I started to come down he slowed his frantic pace, then eased his fingers out of me. He gave me one last lick for good measure, then kissed my vulva with adoration.
“I always wondered what your noises would be like,” he said, his voice rough. “What noises I could get you to make.” He ran his tongue over my slit again, pulling a whine and a shiver from me.
He gave me a second to breathe, watching my reaction the whole time. “Do they live up to your fantasies?” I asked.
“If I could only hear one thing for the rest of my life, it would be you moaning my name.” His voice was serious, like he meant it.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/iytgg7/rekindling_an_old_flame_pt_2_mf_oral