Coming on Strong – (F/M)

This was . . . well, a crap year, to be honest. Lost my job, lost my apartment, sold my car, and was now ‘couch-surfing’ at friends and families’ homes.

Which is one of my current predicaments – bunking down at my cousin’s apartment, since being kicked out of my third Aunt’s house after only a week spent there.
This also brings me to the other predicament – sleeping in her fourth roommate’s bedroom while he is out of town.

Just me, a completely organized room, and one large bed.
Which brings in a third predicament – the maddeningly, glorious scent of this nameless man’s room.

I bury my face in the pillow, taking deep breaths of this man’s scent.
I want to say it’s vanilla and sandalwood with his own natural musk. All I do know is this heady drunk feeling as I grip the pillow to my chest and slide under the covers.

The gray duvet is cold and heavy, it feels wonderful against my skin. My mush-brain thinks it’s a good idea to go shirtless, so off goes that black cotton shirt!
The sheets feel even better, the chill of the room causes my lust-heated skin to prickle.

I can’t stand it, I need to touch myself.

To hell with being caught!

Running my hands over fevered skin, touching all my favorite places – up the valley of my breasts, then scrap across my collar bone, a trigger point on my neck. Hands mindlessly wandering everywhere. Nails scratching along my ribs and stomach, pinching a spot on my left hip.
Playing with my breasts last, before one hand slips down between my legs to rub my clit through my panties.

I know how lewd the sounds that I am making are, all the whimpers and moans. I stifle myself with his pillow when a desperate, “Oh fuck,” escapes.
Worked in to a writhing mess, I shove my hand down the front of those lacey things.

I’m already wet from my ministrations, soon my hand and imagination take charge. I bury my nose against the pillow again, nearly smothering my senses in this maddening scent!

Lord, if his pillow smells this good, how wonderful would he be glistening with a sheen of sweat after fucking me into the mattress? My fingers curl at that, causing my hips to buck, thighs squeezing the duvet between them.

I imagine strong arms wrapping around me, lithe fingers skimming over my skin. I let my imagination run wild as I slake my needs.

* * *

In the quiet of the night is when he’d reach for me. Arms wrapped around my waist from behind, face nuzzled against the cradle of my neck.
The pattering of rain on the windows and roof the only sound around us.

His breathing changes, more awake now. Hands begin to explore the sensitive places on my body. A smile presses to my pulse as each touch causes a needy whimper or lewd gasp to tumble from my lips.

“Heathen,” I briefly mumble, as one of his hands trails up to cup a breast firmly. The other hand skims downward still.

“You like it,” is growled against my skin, nipping kisses punctuating it.
His hand cups my cunt through my panties, sliding two fingers up and down the lace covered slit. The ministration creating a sensual friction on my skin.

My thighs instinctively clench, but are prevented from closing by one of his thighs he has pushed between them.
“You’re not getting shy on me, hmm?”
I shake my head, too lost in the sensation he’s giving my body. I feel like I might burst, so I push my hips forward to press his hand harder against my cunt.

“Use your words,” he growls, his fingers have  stopped rubbing against my cloth covered slit. “If I could read minds, we’d be done by now.” He tweaks one of my nipples causing me to cry out, body shaking from the brief pleasure of it.

“I ne-need your fingers inside and pl-playing with my clit, please!” I stammer out, his hand had moved to the other breast to roughly tease it.

“Good, much better.” He removes both hands, using them to discard my panties before returning to their pervious tasks. Slipping two digits between my slick dripping folds, they tease my clit with agonizingly slow circles. Dipping down together, then v-ing apart going back up to circle it again.
My hands instinctively clutch at his wrist, either to keep his hand pressed against me or to weakly pull it away, I could not say.

I am a writhing mess in his arms.

I feel my inner walls flutter and clench, signs of the edge drawing near, so close to tipping off it into pleasured relief. My hips grind against his thigh, trying to bring that climax closer.
“Impatience will only ruin this,” he whispers in my ear, a nipping kiss at my neck again, his other hand giving my bottom a sharp, hard slap across it. My voice cries out hoarsely.

His hand cradles my neck, preventing me from burying my face in the sheets. “Nooo, those moans are mine.” He keeps my body flush against his, taunt like a bow. “For that, I’m going to tease you a bit longer.” His fingers stop circling my clit, but remain pressed against it.

I can feel the edge slipping away, that tingling pleasure ebbing. I desperately want to force his hand away and just finish myself off. Rocking my hips forward, I try to attempt release against his thigh. “I wouldn’t do that,” he warns.

“W-why not? If you w-won’t finish, then I will.” My hands push his wrist, forcing his fingers to press harder as I rock my hips again.

“Damn brat,” he growls, the other hand releases my neck, pushes between my legs, thrusting two fingers in to my slick-wet entrance.

My whole body shudders as his hands work in tandem to bring me to orgasm. His growled oaths and praises mixing with my lewd moans. Then the levy breaks with a wordless scream and I have lost control; that pleasured climax thrums through my body, before a bone tiredness seeps in.

His arms still hold me, my body sagging against his. Giving his fingers one last flexing curl before slowing taking them out, wetted by my orgasm.

I watch as he brings them to his lips, tongue darting out to clean them off. His own moan of pleasure triggering me, my thighs clenching. His hand cradles my neck again, forcing me to look at his face. A smug smile tugs his lips apart.
“That’s just the first taste tonight,” he chuckles, giving my jawline a nipping kiss.

* * *

I’m a panting mess in this stranger’s bed, my climactic release evident. Honestly, too tired to care at this point, or feel shame. He’s out of town, and I can easily wash the sheets of any evidence.
With that thought in mind, I wrap the duvet closer, still a little chilled from the cold room. I hug the pillow again, taking a deep breath of that delightful scent. Body slaked and relaxed, I can feel sleep crawl in next to me, lulling my eyes closed.

___

As she lay sleeping, she did not notice the bedroom door slowly closing. Nor did she hear the soft *thump* of the front door being locked. A tall figure, quickly making it’s way down the three flights of stairs, back out in to the torrential rain storm.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/u9v6kh/coming_on_strong_fm

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