All Night Long
Chapter Three: Page Three
"Since I can't see your chest, you're gonna have to
tell me what it looks like."
"Mmmm..." The provocative sound rolled from his throat
like a purr, giving him the distinct impression he was
stroking his chest, and enjoying the sensation.
"It's smooth and muscular, and my nipples are hard and
very sensitive to the touch."
He groaned, feeling as though he was going to bust
through the front placket of his slacks. Even shifting
in his seat didn't help to relieve the throbbing
pressure in his groin. He couldn't ever remember being
so hard and thick. So intensely aware of a man he
couldn't even see. It was an exhilarating feeling, and
frustrating as hell.
"And now my jeans are coming off." He heard the slow
drag of a zipper, along with the rustle of denim as he
shoved the heavy material down his legs. "And at last,
here are my boxers."
Said item hit him in the middle of his chest and dropped
to his lap, right on top of his pulsing erection. He
picked up the scrap of silky material, still warm from
his body and damp with his own arousal. His rich,
masculine scent set off a wild, primitive urge.
His heart pounded an erratic rhythm. "God, you smell
good," he said in a low, rough timbre he almost didn't
recognize as his own voice. "I bet you taste even
better."
"You're welcome to find out," he dared, a come-hither
smile in his tone that stoked the fire building inside
him.
He couldn't stand the distance separating them, the
solitude he felt wearing the blindfold. The visual
fantasy he'd created in his mind wasn't nearly enough
when he wanted, needed, a physical connection. He craved
to discover every dip, swell, and curve of his shape
with the slow glide of his hands. To learn what foreplay
he liked best with the caress of his fingers, the hot,
wet lick and swirl of his tongue.
No more games, no more waiting. "Come here, Zell," he
murmured, and crooked his finger in his direction. "It's
my turn to feel and touch and taste."
To be continued...
Chapter Three: Page Three
"Since I can't see your chest, you're gonna have to
tell me what it looks like."
"Mmmm..." The provocative sound rolled from his throat
like a purr, giving him the distinct impression he was
stroking his chest, and enjoying the sensation.
"It's smooth and muscular, and my nipples are hard and
very sensitive to the touch."
He groaned, feeling as though he was going to bust
through the front placket of his slacks. Even shifting
in his seat didn't help to relieve the throbbing
pressure in his groin. He couldn't ever remember being
so hard and thick. So intensely aware of a man he
couldn't even see. It was an exhilarating feeling, and
frustrating as hell.
"And now my jeans are coming off." He heard the slow
drag of a zipper, along with the rustle of denim as he
shoved the heavy material down his legs. "And at last,
here are my boxers."
Said item hit him in the middle of his chest and dropped
to his lap, right on top of his pulsing erection. He
picked up the scrap of silky material, still warm from
his body and damp with his own arousal. His rich,
masculine scent set off a wild, primitive urge.
His heart pounded an erratic rhythm. "God, you smell
good," he said in a low, rough timbre he almost didn't
recognize as his own voice. "I bet you taste even
better."
"You're welcome to find out," he dared, a come-hither
smile in his tone that stoked the fire building inside
him.
He couldn't stand the distance separating them, the
solitude he felt wearing the blindfold. The visual
fantasy he'd created in his mind wasn't nearly enough
when he wanted, needed, a physical connection. He craved
to discover every dip, swell, and curve of his shape
with the slow glide of his hands. To learn what foreplay
he liked best with the caress of his fingers, the hot,
wet lick and swirl of his tongue.
No more games, no more waiting. "Come here, Zell," he
murmured, and crooked his finger in his direction. "It's
my turn to feel and touch and taste."
To be continued...