Not mine... just my little foray into another style of writing... please let me know what you think.
* BL * BL * BL *
Alan Shore came up behind her at the window, placed one hand on her hip and moved in very close to her body. He was warm, and the breath she felt on the back of her neck was moist, and hot. "I wasn't really expecting a visitor tonight," he said, his voice low, velvety, enticing.
She raised her eyes from Boston's evening horizon and tilted her head up toward the sky. "Really?" she said, her voice echoing her quiet doubt. "Even when you asked me to drop off the briefs for you?"
He looked at her now-exposed neck, understood the invitation, moved his mouth over toward her ear. "Actually, I asked you to drop your briefs for me," he corrected softly. "You need to listen more carefully."
She smiled at the verbal foreplay. "Have I been bad?" she asked innocently.
Alan's body shivered at how quickly she engaged him. "You have," he answered, his left arm coming around from behind to pull her even closer to him. He breathed back toward the nape of her neck, lightly pushing her hair away with his fingertips. She closed her eyes to the sensations he was creating in her, then felt him move in again, as though they were spooning standing up, and the hand that had made her neck tingle moved forward and up across her torso, caressing her breasts. "You may need to be disciplined."
"Naughty, naughty me," she breathed. She felt herself turning to liquid inside as he ran his tongue lightly across the back of her neck, grasped one breast a little harder. Oh, the tease… oh, the man…
"Indeed," he murmured, reaching her ear again. He nibbled at the end of the lobe, and she let out a low moan without opening her mouth. Alan's arms released her and he neatly, slowly, tormentingly pulled down the long zipper on the back of her dress, the moves smooth and oh-so-tantalizing as he followed the zipper down with his tongue, stopping on occasion to kiss her along the trail. Her head fell back as she sighed in building arousal.
When he reached the base of her spine, he gently pushed the dress off her shoulders with both hands, leaving it hanging at her waist, and he bent down behind her and kissed just above her buttocks, his hands holding her cheeks firmly, his tongue dancing playfully up and down.
She felt a flush run through her body and she tried to let the dress fall to her feet without interrupting the incredible moves that were already making her wet and ready. Then Alan gently pulled her panties down, taking mental note of the lack of nylon stockings, and continued to kiss her as he did, circling her cheeks with his hands as he went, lightly squeezing and kissing and blowing that hot, sweet breath on her. She moaned as he oh-so-slowly lifted her feet one at a time to step out of the clothes, massaging her toes as he pulled off her shoes, kissing her behind her calves. She bit her lip as desire seared through her. She wanted to be with him, wanted to see him, now.
"Are you ready?" he asked softly. God, the voice… just the voice could tip her over the edge.
"Mmm," she murmured, not wanting to speak. He kissed her again on her spine and then moved back up to her neck. She could feel the fabric of his dress shirt against her bare back, and there was something so erotic about it that she whimpered even before he kissed her behind her ear and neatly unhooked her strapless bra, which fell to the floor unnoticed.
She turned finally, and looked at him through her pleasure, taking happiness in his blue eyes, his long lashes, his intense stare, and his lips, oh, God, his lips that were moving toward her even now with desire and need. Their mouths met and he pushed and she pushed back hungrily, her arousal increasing with every flick of his tongue. She reached around and started drawing his shirt out of his trousers, then, still kissing, his hands on her hair, her back, her behind, her breasts, she undid his belt, unzipped his trousers, and reached in to feel his building erection through his briefs. One little squeeze and he groaned into their kiss, its ferocity building as his hips began to move. Wanting this to last longer, she removed her hand and he protested, "Ahh," but she only loosened his tie and moved toward the bed, still kissing him, knowing he would follow her.
It seemed as though they never stopped kissing, and yet somehow Alan's tie came off and his shirt followed soon after. Her hands ran down the length of his legs as she drew his trousers down around his ankles and he kicked them off with his shoes, then her mouth moved agonizingly slowly down his chest to his own briefs, which she gave a quick yank downward, causing him to jolt in excitement as his stiffening penis was freed. Her hand gripped it for a moment, hard, and he grunted and then pushed her back onto the bed.
"Oh…. Catherine," he breathed as he climbed onto her and rained kisses on her neck, on her hardening breasts, on her stomach. "What are you doing to me?"
"Just this," she whispered back, biting on his lip, then taking it into her own mouth and sucking hard. He looked deeply into her eyes, then shivered as he felt her hands touching his stomach as she reached down to play with his penis, then she tickled her hands up and down inside his thighs.
Alan shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut, his arms braced on either side of her momentarily shaking. She let go of his lip, then he felt her blowing lightly on his mouth, and he opened his eyes to see her smiling at him in that teasing, sexy, so irresistible way she had come into tonight that he had never known she had before. She grasped his scrotum and he gasped, throwing his head back to accept the feeling of need continuing to rise within him.
"There's a rumor that you believe making the first move is beneath you," she murmured, gripping his buttocks, her nails creating an exquisite pain that only aroused him more.
"Is there," he said, his eyes staring deep into hers, his voice caressing her even as the tone ever so gently mocked the report.
"There is," she replied. She moved in so close they could kiss, and yet she didn't touch his lips. Her hands rose to his hair, stroking it, running her fingers through it. "Do you care to comment on that?"
He could feel her breath on his own lips as she spoke. It was achingly sensual, and it took all his control not to thrust himself inside of her that second. He bunched the sheet into his hands. "Well," he replied, "I believe you're beneath me now. And I'll make you move. I promise."
Her mischievous smile told him she was up for the challenge. "Prove it," she whispered.
Spurred on by her gameness, Alan immediately scooped her up into his arms and kissed her passionately. Her hands ran up and down his back as he moved his mouth to her neck, to her ears and then down to her sweetly aching breasts. He lowered her back to the mattress and she sighed her approval as she arched her back, helping her breasts move in and out of his mouth as he kissed and sucked and then nuzzled. When his tongue joined in, she gasped in ecstasy, squeezing his muscular arms and wrapping her legs around him. She pulled him down to her, then moved her own arms above her head, surrendering to the exquisite anticipation brought on by his expert touch.
A searching stroke of her patch of coarse hair made her jolt her head off the bed just for a second, then she groaned and writhed as just his fingertips lightly danced around the outside of her vagina, increasing her already high level of sensitivity and leaving her breathless. "Ah… aahh…" she sighed. Her breaths were coming in short, sharp gasps. His tongue was circling her nipples, and every now and then his teeth would tug gently, making her moan with the aching, torturous need for release. Any minute now and she wouldn't be able to stop herself from leaping joyfully over the edge. She was losing herself in the pleasure. Losing herself… losing herself…
But then, just as suddenly, he stopped and pulled away. She whimpered and looked at him, now propped up on his elbow beside her, looking up and down her body, watching with satisfaction the results of his handiwork: her heaving bosom, her erect nipples, her eyes damp and bright with desire. The longing inside her was crying out, but still he waited, watched. He smiled when their eyes met. "Satisfied?" he asked.
She understood. The cheekiness in his voice told her that he had done what he promised—he had made her move beneath him. She smiled, tired as her body cooled down, determined to do to him as he had to her—and this time, the heat would continue to burn—for both of them. "Not yet," she answered. She ran her tongue over her lips. "But I will be."
Alan raised his eyebrows, loving the spirit of the game, hoping she was a woman of her word. And it appeared she was. She pushed him down onto his back, and he watched her silently, his eyes following only her face as her hands began scraping their way down his chest and her lips moved down with them. When she reached his stomach, she looked back up at him, and the determined look in her eye made his lips curve up slightly in a smile. "I'm not a good girl," she said softly.
Alan's small smile got broader and he moved his hands to draw her up closer to his mouth. She loved the feeling of his hands cupping her face, and closed her eyes as the intense scrutiny of his pale eyes sent shivers down her spine. She lowered her head to his chest and began to plant small kisses all around his nipples, but never got near enough to them to satisfy the growing ache in them, leaving him panting, wanting. A low sound escaped the back of Alan's throat, and when she moved one hand down to his groin, and squeezed in time with the heavier kisses she was now giving him, his body convulsed in pleasure.
She left the meadow of hair on his chest and kissed up to his neck. He closed his eyes and she could feel as well as hear the low moan rumbling in his throat. She kissed harder on that spot, then ran her tongue up to his mouth, where they joined again, his hand moving urgently to her breast, squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing, in time with the increased throbbing in his own body. His breathing sped up along with hers and her hand moved from his groin to his stomach, then to his chest hair, where she roamed and pulled and palmed. Alan groaned and moved his hand down to her own lower body, where he delighted in feeling her wetness, her readiness. He positioned his thigh in between her legs and started moving, and she gasped through their kiss.
She pulled herself off of him and rolled over onto her back, drawing him with her and biting softly into his shoulder, then up his neck, the sounds he made telling her that she was hitting all the right places. She moved her mouth under his neck and kissed at the base, then she kissed her way to his left shoulder, where she delighted once again in his strength and his beautiful body and looked into his eyes.
"I'm waiting," she whispered. Alan's furrowed brow asked the question for him. "You promised discipline," she said.
"You haven't been naughty enough," he murmured, his voice like melted caramel reverberating deep inside her. "Are you going to be naughty enough, Catherine?"
He made her so happy, she realized right then. Just the sound of his voice was enough to make her smile, and his touch was bliss beyond measure. She wanted him to be just as happy… and she wanted part of that happiness to be from what she did tonight.
"I do so love being naughty," she answered at last. And as he moved onto his back once more, drawing her over with him, she lowered her head to his chest, and her tongue started circling the areola of his left nipple slowly, teasingly. He closed his eyes and groaned in pleasure, then let out a grunt as his arousal grew when she startled him with a small, pulling bite of his nipple as she gave his scrotum a squeeze. "Ohh…" he moaned through a breath. "That is naughty."
"Shall I stop?" she asked softly, blowing lightly on his damp nipple.
"No. Please… no."
She resumed the tantalizing movements. His hand reached down to her, gently, lovingly, caressing her hair, moaning in increasing pleasure as she kept up her ministrations. She moved one of her hands up to lightly flick his other nipple as she continued to tease him. He whimpered and briefly tightened his grip on her hair. "Oh… oh, Catherine," he breathed. He released her hair and managed to cup her face with his hands. "Don't—don't stop," he pleaded softly as she drew her hand away. She continued twisting and playing with his nipple as he pulled her face to his and kissed her hard and deeply.
In a smooth, swift motion he rolled so she was underneath him. Their eyes met briefly, intensely, and he buried his face in her neck and traced a path from her ear to her collarbone with kisses, his hot, moist breath intensifying their impact on her. She felt a tightening deep down inside as his mouth moved to the hollow of her throat, then he nuzzled the spot with his nose and ran it up under her chin until he reached her mouth again and their tongues flirted greedily, hungrily, their lips searching to satisfy their desires.
Her hands came up around his waist, then ran up to his shoulders, smooth and beginning to glisten with sweat. She gripped them, digging her fingers in slightly as his mouth ran back down between her breasts. Her legs wrapped around his thighs, and she could feel him on his knees, lowering himself toward her, his chest touching her stomach, his hands searching, cupping her breasts as though for the first time. He moved his hands across them gently, his touch feather-light, never squeezing or pinching, just discovering. Then he kissed them softly, and they hardened with desire. She shivered beneath him.
He moved ever-so-slowly, as his tongue began to draw a slow trail down her center and toward her legs. She let out a shuddering gasp as his hands moved to her hips and then he carefully, expertly spread her legs so he could position his shoulders between them. Now hyper-sensitive to his touch, she jolted slightly when his fingers played along the inside of her upper thighs, then settled when they moved toward her center, running through the hair covering her. Two smooth, probing fingers pushed her inner labia apart. She closed her eyes and took in a sharp breath as he wiggled his fingers up and around her opening, never entering, and only once making contact with her clitoris, then circling and circling the rapidly dampening area, fast then slow, his touch at the same time both gentle and urgent. He was setting her on fire, and she groaned in anticipation and desire, her inner dam building.
When his fingers moved away she moaned a weak protest, only to gasp as his tongue took their place. With his hands now firmly on top of her hips, his face burrowed into her, and the tongue that had swayed a thousand juries was now making her sway and arc in desire and need. Up, down, and in those amazing, indescribable circles that made her cry out in a soft voice she didn't recognize as her own. He was relentless in his actions, the more she whimpered in heat the more aggressively he moved. His hands moved up to her breasts as her clitoris danced with his tongue and she delighted in all that was Alan Shore being his most persuasive, most giving, most in control. He squeezed her nipples as his tongue found its way toward her opening. She gasped and arced off the bed toward him, her pelvis moving back and forth to help his now up-and-down motions become more urgent within her. His breathing was becoming heavier, faster, and when a low groan escaped his own lips, her hands covered his on her breasts and she squeezed them, to make him tighter, faster, harder.
His hands suddenly came down and he spread her legs widely, lifting his head and leaving her moaning with a fullness that needed release. Opening her eyes she found him staring at her, his blue eyes intense, his shoulders heaving with his quick breaths, and without taking his eyes from her, his hand moved in and found her opening, and as two fingers deftly moved into place inside her, she gasped and cried out. "Oh, Alan!" He looked down at his work, a small smile touching his lips as he saw her darkened labia and swollen clitoris, but still he refused to give her relief. His mouth moved back up her body, lingering on her stomach, then only briefly sucking on each of her breasts, one hand caressing her hair, the two fingers of his other hand still moving agonizingly slowly inside her.
"Please…" she begged, the dam inside her feeling ready to burst, the fire getting hotter and hotter within her. He moved directly above her, looking deeply into her eyes. She groaned and writhed under his penetrating gaze as his fingers touched a particular place that nearly threw her madly over the edge, at which point he slowed and said in a low, husky voice, "Look at me."
She obeyed as best she could, not fully in control with this man bringing her to the absolute edge of ecstasy, and saw in his eyes a desire and need to match her own. "Please… please…" she breathed. His mouth came down and covered hers, and as his fingers resumed their probing dance, his tongue matched their movements, and she found herself exploding at last, whimpering as their tongues remained entangled and dancing, groaning as his fingers kept up their insistent thrusting against her contractions, and at last when her muffled cries waned, he moved his hand away and stroked her inner thighs, stopping only when she jolted, once more hyper-sensitive as her body tried to recover, and he moved that hand then to her breast as he continued to kiss her passionately, deeply, greedily, the moan escaping his own lips simply driving her on to more.
Her need to satisfy him now was overwhelming, and when she felt able to a few seconds later, she moved to sit up and roll him over onto his own back. He grunted once as she grabbed hold of his erection, and watched her silently, his eyes on her face, his expression one of acute attention, his focus fully on her actions. Her dark eyes meeting his, she lowered her head to take him into her mouth, at first roughly, making him gasp and throw his head back, then more gently, moving up and down as he panted with the thrusts.
She wrapped her mouth around his fullness and playfully moved it to the head, using the tip of her tongue to pull him open and slip it inside. His groan was from deep within then, and his pelvis arced for just a second before she moved back down the shaft toward his scrotum. "God," he gasped, as she stopped to wrap her mouth around him and nibble gently. She cupped his testicles in one hand, still playing her tongue up and down his penis, and with her other hand she reached up toward one of his nipples and twisted just hard enough to make him groan in pleasure.
Alan's hand moved to her back, trying to guide her even closer and deeper, but she slipped away and aimed for his most sensitive areas. She scraped her fingernails from his chest down his torso, leaving marks but not breaking the skin. He moaned when she reached the base of his penis and pulled, moving it back and forth, his inner throbbing gaining intensity as his excitement increased. His breathing became ragged. His own fire was building, building; a raging inferno that was driving him insane.
Determined to give him the most powerful climax possible, she intensified her movements, then slowed them down. Alan protested with a whimper. She squeezed his scrotum, eliciting a breathy exhalation from him, and then turned and brought her hands back up to his chest. She straddled him, lay her breasts upon him, and played with his nipples as she breathed warm, moist breath up through the hair on his chest and to his neck.
Alan sighed, then groaned, beginning to move under her, his hands moving to her hips, his eyes closed as he took sheer pleasure in the delightful torture of his body. She reached over to the table beside the bed and picked up his tie, the one she had placed there purposefully when they had so slowly and tantalizingly undressed each other. Then she wrapped it around the bed head, and moved one of his arms up so she could trap his wrist in the fabric. He complied without a word, opening his eyes to watch her face as she made him her prisoner. She pulled the other arm up, glancing down at him with a gentle smile, and completed her work. Alan's eyes grew serious, more focused. He knew he was now at her mercy, and whatever she did now, he was ready for.
She moved her hands down his strong, powerful and yet now helpless arms, taking pleasure in the taut muscles that she had never seen before tonight. Alan gripped the bed head with his hands, her smooth touch reverberating in his body, making him tingle in ways that were so wonderful and that desperately needed release. She drew her tongue down to his lips. He opened his mouth, waiting to take her, but she just licked his lips with her tongue, playing lightly over them, nimbly avoiding his grasping mouth, then letting her own mouth run down to his earlobe, which she nibbled, happy to hear his breathing quicken and his groaning pants getting more and more urgent. "God, this is… this is… ohhh," he moaned, barely able to speak, wishing for a climax while wishing this would never end.
She ran her hands through his chest hair as her mouth returned to his, and they kissed, Alan trying so hard to exert some pressure and control while having no use of his hands and arms to grasp her and hold her close. Catherine moved off of him and took hold once more of his penis, causing Alan to gasp and stiffen in anticipation and need. One hand ran rhythmically up and down the shaft, miming the bump and thrust of intercourse; the other hand grabbed hold of his scrotum and squeezed. Alan could barely contain himself now. "Oh!" he cried, and his arms strained against the binding around his wrists. If he'd tried hard enough he could likely have freed himself, but half the pleasure was in his lack of control, and half the pain which led to this indescribable feeling of burgeoning ecstasy. He pressed his head against the pillow, breathing hard, his eyes closed, sweat starting to glisten on his face, so completely at her mercy, needing the release and yet knowing she wasn't about to let him go.
"I need… I'm not going to…" he gasped. She understood, and reached for the waiting condom on the table. She opened it and slowly, stroking, pulled it on to him, her own low noises of admiration stoking the fire within him.
Teasing, she straddled him again, but did not let him inside her. Instead, she lowered her body so her breasts were nearly in reach of his mouth. As he tried desperately to pull himself up to suck them, she drove him back down with a forceful kiss, her tongue pushing itself inside his willing mouth, her hands moving back up his arms and then down to cup his face as she pulled away, then sat up and cupped her own breasts, kneading and moaning as she tilted her head to watch their shadows on the ceiling, pushing him closer and closer to rapture.
About to burst, Alan strained hard against his makeshift restraints and freed his right hand, which he immediately used to propel himself upwards and roll her so he was again above her. He left his other hand gripping the bed head as he kneeled over her, her legs spread, her sex wet and ready for him. His right hand kept him from falling prone onto her. He looked into her eyes, the intensity in them matching his need and his desire to be powerful with her here, now, for them both. She wanted it, too, and here, now, was the time.
She reached up without looking away from him and skillfully loosened the tie from the bed, then brought his hand down to take one finger fully and slowly into her mouth, showing him the in and out movement she was clearly expecting from him. Alan shuddered, kissed her stomach, circled her belly button with his tongue, waited for her gasping response, and then pulled his hands away and cupped her breasts.
She wrapped her legs around him once more, grabbed hold of his buttocks and moved herself up, ready to receive him. Never taking his eyes from hers, Alan met her, guided himself inside in a way that made them both shiver, and their dance began again. Forward, back, forward, back, at first slowly as he watched her eyes close and a soft murmur of pleasure escape her lips, then faster as he himself felt orgasm rapidly and unstoppably approaching. One more thrust and her head fell back, exposing her neck as she let out a whimper of imminent climax. Lightheaded, Alan kept up the movement, but could not resist the offer of her soft skin, and he came in to kiss her. She convulsed at the touch and sped up her own pelvic dance. "Alan… oh, Alan… yes. Yes… Please, Alan… more… Faster. Please, faster."
She groaned from deep inside, now fully enveloped in her body's own responses. Her pleas stoked Alan's own desires, and he obeyed her, the throbbing he was feeling now painful in its intensity. He had to get relief, now. She moved her hands up to his waist where she dug in her nails, panting and whimpering. The move pushed him further and he cried out. "Oh, God!" Then he thrust harder and faster until he matched her own movements, and finally the dam burst in a mix of pleasure and released pain, and they leapt over the precipice together.
* xx * xx * xx *
They lay entangled in the bed, sheets twisted around their legs, Alan prone beside her as he had collapsed, one leg possessively over her thigh, his right arm draped across her stomach, his eyelids at half-mast with sleep rapidly approaching as his head lay softly on her shoulder. She lay, glowing and content, one hand slowly stroking his beautiful arm, the other gently combing through his damp hair, watching his face. He smiled drowsily at her, kissed her bare shoulder, and then, unable to keep his eyes open, he drifted off. An affectionate smile touched her lips as she reached over and kissed his forehead. Let him sleep, she thought; he had earned it.
September 2012
