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Insatiable.
Safe to say, that word defined my relationship with Tom, my costar. We’d met a month ago, and been sleeping together for a fortnight. He was always hungry for me; his body craved mine and the satisfaction I promised.
Fluttering, fleeting hints of sensation licked along my nerve endings and I smiled inwardly as another one stole a gasp from me. Free of clothes and blankets, the rare London sunshine shone through the open window. The golden rays made my skin glow pale and lustrous, almost porcelain smooth.
“I like the way this light makes my skin look,” I sighed lazily. I lifted a leg off the bed, moving it semi-circles to watch the light play off my beauty marks.
The man beside me smiled and changed his touch on my breast. Sundays were restful and sluggish, and the day I looked forward to most since he walked into my life. I was lying flat on my back on Tom’s soft white sheets in his large glorious bed, thinking there was no place like it. With him, in his loft bedroom was the perfect place for a lie-in.
He nuzzled my messy, few hours old just fucked hair. “I like the way you look in my bed.”
The hand attached to the arm slung across my torso tweaked my nipple. My breath hitched as the sensation from that small bud shot straight to my sex. He’d been playing with my flesh listlessly for the past half hour. He had started with gentle caresses, and had graduated to squeezes, before morphing to pinches. I thought he was experimenting with different approaches to learn how my body and breath responded, and I was more than happy to oblige him.
I ran my fingertip up and down over his arm in a barely there touch in encouragement. He tenderly twisted the overly stimulated bud, bowing my back off the mattress and tiny ‘ooh’ from my lips. Tom laughed in the back of his throat, proof that he knew my body so very well. “Tell me, Abby, how often did you masturbate thinking of me?”
Breathing out haughtily, I asked with indignation, “What?” Of course I was guilty of touching myself with his visage in my mind’s eye before we had sex in the dressing room, but I’d never admitted it. But it was too late to attempt a denial though, because a blush flooded through my entire face, not just my cheeks. The burn and heated flush gave me away. How did this man affect me so much? Why did I allow him?
A renewed giggle sounded directly into my ear, his breath upsetting strands of my hair and tickling my cheek. “Abby, you can’t keep anything from me. I know.”
I was feeling so exposed and humiliated. The emotion forced me to stay in place, rooted to the bed hoping it would swallow me whole in an instant. I couldn’t defend myself, my throat paralyzed with the rest of me. To pull me from my state, Tom pulled me closer to him and applied pressure again to my pebbled nipple. My body responded involuntarily, and my jaw slacked.
“No need for embarrassment, my darling Abby. My goodness, love, I’ve been inside your body.” To prove his point, his hand slipped from my breast down my abdomen to my sex. He slipped a digit within my slick folds, an all too brief dip within and took it away. My eyes flew open at the absence to see him slip that finger into his mouth, his tongue wrapping around that finger and moaning thinly.
I had never met or been with someone so unashamedly sexual, but I shouldn’t be surprised. He had a voracious, unquenchable sexual appetite and, I assumed, I was the woman of that desire. In my weak moments of arousal, I adopted some of his attitude and inhibitions, all reservations evaporated with his seduction. I was powerless to resist his advances. I had never in my sexual history ever begged someone to fuck me, and I was begging nearly every day.
A wanton woman.
With him.
Because of him.
Meekly, I asked, “Have you?”
“Have I gotten myself off because of you?”
I nodded.
“Repeatedly,” he answered without shame. “I’m terrible liar, and I did tell you that first time I was able to get you alone that my wrist was sore from getting myself off.” He was propped up on one elbow, his palm holding the weight of his head. His other hand danced between my breast and my sex, keeping me excited and ready. That wandering hand found that one spot at the top of the inside of my thigh, that one erogenous zone that sent me reeling and pressed lightly.
Heavy with lust, my eyes fell closed, my focus on that spot. I could feel the blood coursing through my sex, awakening that ache with his name. His voice, so close to my ear, reached me through my haze. “Touch yourself now, Abby. Do it for me.”
Lids remained shuttered as I whispered, “I can’t…”
With a slight tsk noise he made with his tongue, he assured me, “You can. No judgment, Abby, just pleasure.” He moved my thigh between his so I could feel his erection and to spread my legs wider. “It’s such a turn on.” His voice was pitched low and seductive in my ear. Before I knew it, he was blanketing my hand with his and leading it southbound. “Show me, Abigail. Show me how to please you.”
As my middle finger found that familiar path to my distended clit, his joined with mine. He was rubbing his hardened length along my thigh, seeking any friction he could. I moaned at the slightest pressure of our fingers, my hips matching the circular motion of my fingertip with his. Tom kissed my hair, my ear, my neck, my collarbone, my anywhere within reach. “So beautiful.” My breathing rushed in and out of my lungs as Tom changed positions on the bed.
Widening the distance between my thighs, he moved to kneel in between. I opened my eyes to watch him watching my finger. His fist was wrapped around his cock stroking slowly. I arched my back as the thrill of the finish rushed in. I applied more pressure and increased the pace in my ministrations. My orgasm came so quickly that it took me by surprise, my back bowed as everything stilled. And then the amazing feeling of constricting and releasing muscles pulsed inside me. Relief and pleasure rushing through my entire being. I collapsed back into the mattress and just felt it.
Impatiently Tom removed my hand from between my legs, sucking the digit into the hollow of his mouth. Before I could catch my breath or wait for the pulsating to subside, Tom filled me with his length, covering my body with his. He released my finger from between his teeth to take possession of my mouth in a passionate kiss. The thrust of his hips matched and mirrored the thrust of his tongue, and I was caught up in the storm of passion. My limbs tingled with the renewal of stimulation. I didn’t fully recover before he was lifting me up towards oblivion again.
He grunted into my mouth with every deep intrusion into my wet heat. I grasped his shoulders, my nails digging into the skin of his back, leaving half-moon crescents. Tom hiked my thighs up around his hips, to angle into me deeper. I wrapped both my legs around him, hooking my ankles together to hold on for the ride.
I was just on the edge of the precipice of euphoria when he released my mouth. Reading the signs of my impending climax, he quickened his pelvis, and adding a bit of a grind to see that I got there. We stared into each other’s eyes as he sent me hurtling into sweet rapture. My body shuddered and trembled, my vaginal walls quivered and pulled him into me. He buried his face into my neck, his hot breathing harsh against my fevered skin. I raked my fingers down his back to grab hold of his ass, encouraging him to join me in ecstasy.
His hips rode through my orgasm without stopping, his body in full control of mine. I’d never felt so full or secure in a man’s bed before. This man knew how to pleasure a woman, and took great pride in seeing that she was more than satisfied in his bed.
Running my fingers through his sweat slicked hair, I whispered, “I want you to come on me.” He was holding back from letting go. Even with his hips relentlessly pushing into me, there was something more he wanted and he was withholding. And I wanted so much to do something for him that he wouldn’t expect.
Encouragingly, I breathed out, “On my chest, so I can taste you.”
He slowed to a stop, but his breathing uneven. He looked down at me, his eyes bright with arousal, his irises huge. “But I don’t want to scare you or hurt you.”
Without thinking, desperate to please him, I said, “I trust you. Do it.”
He was trying to gauge the honesty on my face. He knew I wasn’t nearly as experienced or experimental as he, but I trusted him so explicitly, in bed and out of bed. Withdrawing from my body, he crawled up the length of me. A small kiss was left on my lips as he maneuvered. He grasped the headboard with both hands as I leaned up and licked the tip of him, caressing his strong masculine thighs. I tasted the combined wetness of both of us, increasing my craving for it. I looked up at him, licked my lips purposefully and pushed the fleshy mounds of my breasts together for him.
“Fuck, woman… you are… beautiful - gorgeous,” he said reverently, moving one hand into my hair. He sat back on his haunches, just shy of sitting on me. Leaning over me, he slid his heavy cock within the folds of my skin. He thrust slowly at first, allowing me to back out or stop if I needed to. I watched his face above me, and even though the thought had petrified me, I liked being completely at his mercy. I loved giving myself to him entirely, genuinely giving my trust to him.
He bit is lower lip into his mouth, baring his perfectly straight white teeth. He worked himself into my cleavage over and over again. The hand in my hair tightened as he got closer and closer. He breathed out with every thrust between my breasts. Watching his face was fascinating and I couldn’t look away.
He tried to tell me again how beautiful I was, but he groaned instead, his voice caught in a chant of wordless sounds of pleasure. When he was close his mouth opened, his eyes unfocused and then closed, as his pelvis stuttered unevenly. His cum released in long hot spurts into my mouth and all over my chest. The look on his face was so beautiful, relaxed and pleasured, and positively orgasmic. The loud grunt that accompanied his release when he collapsed on the bed next to me, careful not to crush me under any of his limbs.
I licked what I could of what he spent around my mouth before leaning over to the nightstand for tissues to clean the rest. Tom was on his back, his bare chest regulating to normal. I leaned over him and initiated a kiss. He pulled me to him and held me close. When he pulled away, he was smiling smugly. “I knew I’d get you out of your shell, my darling Abigail. You little minx.”