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Rune Alignment

Chapter 29

"No, not here. Later." Sledge wanted them to last all night, into the morning. He thought of how small she was, how small she would be there – tight, wet, good. He slipped a finger under the elastic at her crotch. She was soaking wet.

Eames groaned and moved against his finger. Her small hand gripped his staff and glided up and down its silken length. His breath came faster. He closed his eyes and felt himself creep toward the edge. He reached for the top of her panties and began to pull. Alex helped them down, shed her shoes and pulled off her panties. Sledge's hand clasped her place and two fingers entered. She lifted her hips to bring him in further.

Bobby's finger stirred in her wet, traced the line of her slit. She was swollen, tight, hot. He traced her slit up and down, and then slowly, slowly pushed open the lips with his fingertip. So slowly, he slid in his finger. He watched her inhale through clenched teeth. She lifted her hips to follow his movement. Just as slowly, he withdrew his finger.

"Good?" he asked quietly. She opened her eyes and watched as he licked the finger that he had just pulled from her body. He ran that finger over her lips, seeking a way in. She opened her mouth slightly and in he slipped. She tasted her own saltiness. He kissed her and his hand moved down her body again.

She reached for him, his hard length. "No, no." He caught her wrist and moved her hand above her head. "Let me." Gleason slid her hand under the pillow and his hand again traveled her body, seeking her warm wetness. Ah, there, there. He traced her slit again and slowly slid in two fingers. Again, she hissed an inhale and lifted her hips. He slid his fingers out, as slowly as before. And then in. And then out. And in. Out. Faster, deeper.

"Come here, sit on me," Sledge whispered hoarsely. He lifted her by the waist, like a doll, and her leg crossed his lap. Eames was on her knees straddling his legs; he kissed her like never before. He took himself by his own hand and guided himself to her opening. Eames felt his large, round tip against her slit. He didn't lower her onto it. He moved himself along her slit, spreading her juice. He rubbed himself against her clit and Eames growled softly.

She panted and clutched his lapels. "Do it. In me. Go in."

Sledge held her up with an arm around her tiny waist, rubbing his penis against her slot, teasing her, teasing himself. He was so close. He watched her face, their eyes locked. "Do it. Please. Edward. Do it," she begged.

Bobby's thumb rubbed her clit as his fingers filled and emptied her. Her gasps came quicker, shorter. Her hips rose and met his every entry. Short sounds came from her throat. "Unh . . . . . unh . . . . ungh . . . UNGH! Her hand flew from under the pillow to his wrist, grabbed it and held it still. She ground against his hand, a growl issued from her throat and she jerked as if electrified.

Bobby watched her. Unknowingly, his hips moved in tune with his hand. He watched it build in her. Saw the edge approach. He felt himself grow as never before. He was so close, so close. God he wanted to come, come with her. We will; this is for her.

She rode his hand and slowly she settled. His fingers remained inside. He moved them slightly and she jerked. Her grasp on his wrist relaxed and he slid his fingers out. She moaned as he pulled. She was breathing hard. A sheen of perspiration covered her.

"Bobby. . ."

"Huh uh, this is good." He laid his open mouth on her breast, and sucked. He sucked his way down her body, creeping down in the bed as he went. He got to where he was going and pushed her legs open wide.

Sledge lowered her slowly; slowly, slowly his cock pushed apart her engorged lips. Eames gasped and her head snapped back. Edward felt himself push her open as he eased her down his length. Oh, God . . . oh God – hot, tight, so tight, wet; oh God! Edward pushed up, Eames ground down. She felt him fill her, all the way; all the way to that spot, that spot! Eames pulled her self up and down, up and down; each time, Edward hit that spot. They came together in a rush of grunts and moans.

Bobby spread open her other lips and licked her juice, he sucked and then swallowed. She was salty sweet. His tongue danced like his hands when he talked. He licked her clit, caught it between his teeth and teased; Gleason moaned and moved on the bed. His tongue slid in and out of her slit. His thumbs released her lips and he sucked them both, pulling, nibbling. Deep, throaty sounds came from her mouth. Both hands seized the sheets and she pulled them toward her.

Watching her writhe in pleasure, knowing he was responsible, fueling her approaching orgasm, stirred him more. He imagined being inside of her – she was so wet, so slippery; she was swollen, she'd be tight; and hot, he felt her heat on his tongue. He was close, so close. God . . . now, now . . .

Eames continued to come after Edward had finished. She flexed her inner muscles and squeezed him. He watched her come, then watched her settle. She fell against him, panting. He held her and together their breathing slowed.

"Alex."

She sat back and they looked at each other. He kissed her warmly, gently. She returned his kiss. He lifted her from his lap as if she weighed nothing. Eames swept the skirt of her dress under her as she took her place and adjusted the top of her dress. Edward put himself back together, zipped and bucked his trousers.

"You ok?" he asked her. She nodded and ran her hands through her hair. Edward leaned forward and rapped on the partition. He bent and picked up her panties from the floor and slid them into his pocket. Edward reached for Alex and pulled her close. She snuggled into his arm and the driver headed for home.

Bobby drove his tongue into her once more and then rose up on his knees. He snatched the edge of the sheet and wiped his mouth, jaw and chin.

"Come here," he said to Gleason still writhing below him. He took an arm and pulled her up. Bobby sat back on his calves, the bottom of his feet under his butt. His penis curved upward, thick, dark, hard; a drop of pre-ejaculate fluid seeped down the side. Gleason sat up, on her knees, panting. He took her head in both hands and kissed her deeply.

His hands moved to her bottom and he said hoarsely, "Get on me. Let me in. Get on."

She spread her legs, moved onto his legs, he lifted her and guided himself into her. They moaned together as he filled her, as her tight wet heat surrounded him. With his hands on her bottom, Gleason eased herself down his length, gasping short breaths. Bobby growled. She wrapped her arms around his neck, lifted herself, pulled back and slid down, pulled back and slid down. She felt him rub that spot inside, that magic button that sent flares of want up into her; he pumped up into her, hitting it again and again. Bobby flew to the edge, she was tight, and wet around him; he felt her muscles squeeze him, massage him as he slid in and out . . . oh, God! . . . close, close . . .

"UNNNNGHHH!" he exploded into her with a feral cry, his whole body tensed, his head snapped back, and he clutched her close.

Gleason felt her orgasm approach with each thrust. That spot, that spot. Bobby's guttural come pushed her over and the world went white. They rode each other, forever it seemed.

At some point, they slowed, panting, holding onto each other. They were soaked in sweat. She felt him begin to soften in her. She slowly backed off him. He shuddered with a slight moan as he pulled out. Finally, he took her face, searched her eyes, and kissed her so gently.