Read Online Look Closer: No Safe Words Here 1-4 out of 5. Boxed Set by Mercy Walker - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mercy Walker
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started fooling around, and were going bareback.
I didn’t miss having his seed inside me…If I’d learned anything in college, it was safety first was more than just a nifty catch phrase: it was a rule to live and die by.
But last night I had missed that feeling having him emptying himself into me used to give me. Like his…his love was filling me up, all warm and extra gooey.
Extra gooey? Jesus Christ, that was corny and rather icky…
I couldn’t finish that thought…hell, when Tom thrust his tongue up into my asshole, and twirled it around to get a look around, I could no longer think at all.
Oh god, oh god…ohgodohgodohgod!
Tom had never rimmed me before, and though I’d enjoyed having it done a few times back in my dorm room, having the man of my father-fucking dreams lapping at my twitching hole was like the difference between riding a tricycle, and blasting off on the space shuttle.
My cock shot up and slapped my belly of its own volition. The head of it tingling, my balls churning.
Shit! We’d been at it for less than five minutes and I was about to lose my shit already.
No, no, nonono!
I shifted up on my knees, dislodging Tom’s talented tongue from my anus, and fell over off of him, lying on my back for a few gasping breathes as my imminent climax stalled, and finally fizzled out.
Tom slapped his big, strong hand against my belly and did that mischievous chuckle again. I gave him a hard look and shook my head.
What the hell was he trying to do to me?
Then his hand slid down and those thick, wondrous fingers started massaging my dick.
I jerked and moved as fast as I could away from him and his seductive, crazy fingers.
I wanted to put these few hours of alone time with Tom to extremely good use.
That’s when I saw Mrs. Sherwood’s black silk and lace stockings hanging from the smooth brass handle of one of her vanity’s drawers. I suddenly had a very kinky, kind of disturbing idea.
I jumped off the bed and snatched the silk and lace stockings from where they hung.
*****
Tom grunted as I tied the second of his wrists to one of the brass slats of the bed…the bed he and his wife slept in every night.
I made sure the stalking were tied with care, pulling them tight enough that he would probably lose circulation to his hands—but it wasn’t those appendages I was worried about blood-flow to.
He was on his back, with me astride, my thighs straddling on either side of his hips. His cock was already sheathed in a condom and generously slathered with lube. At the moment it was rubbing distractingly against my ass, sliding up into my crack, back and forth over my tender sphincter.
I had decided against binding his legs—I wanted him to have traction, a range of motion so he’d be able to run the gambit of necessary hip thrust angles…and I wanted him to be able to pile drive his cock up into me. That was probably one of my all time favorite feelings, ever: having Tom jackhammer his manhood up into my clenching guts.
I looked down on him and smiled. He looked confused, yet excruciatingly horny. Guess Susan Sarandon’s character was right in Bull Durham : a guy will let you do anything to them if they think it’s foreplay.
Which, fortunately, it was.
I pushed back a few times, making his hard cock bend back with the weight of my ass. He groaned, and I suddenly felt all breathless. It was time to get this party started.
I brought my hips forward, leaned back and guided his twitching prick up into my well lubricated hole. I had that moment of feeling impaled all the way through to my eyeballs…and my guts had to stretch like hell to accommodate him, but I pushed back and sat down hard until my ass cheeks were flush the flesh of his crotch.
I moaned in ecstatic agony, and shook my head as I saw stars floating before my eyes. My heart was hammering away in my chest, and I gasped to try to pull some air into my burning lungs.
I could
I didn’t miss having his seed inside me…If I’d learned anything in college, it was safety first was more than just a nifty catch phrase: it was a rule to live and die by.
But last night I had missed that feeling having him emptying himself into me used to give me. Like his…his love was filling me up, all warm and extra gooey.
Extra gooey? Jesus Christ, that was corny and rather icky…
I couldn’t finish that thought…hell, when Tom thrust his tongue up into my asshole, and twirled it around to get a look around, I could no longer think at all.
Oh god, oh god…ohgodohgodohgod!
Tom had never rimmed me before, and though I’d enjoyed having it done a few times back in my dorm room, having the man of my father-fucking dreams lapping at my twitching hole was like the difference between riding a tricycle, and blasting off on the space shuttle.
My cock shot up and slapped my belly of its own volition. The head of it tingling, my balls churning.
Shit! We’d been at it for less than five minutes and I was about to lose my shit already.
No, no, nonono!
I shifted up on my knees, dislodging Tom’s talented tongue from my anus, and fell over off of him, lying on my back for a few gasping breathes as my imminent climax stalled, and finally fizzled out.
Tom slapped his big, strong hand against my belly and did that mischievous chuckle again. I gave him a hard look and shook my head.
What the hell was he trying to do to me?
Then his hand slid down and those thick, wondrous fingers started massaging my dick.
I jerked and moved as fast as I could away from him and his seductive, crazy fingers.
I wanted to put these few hours of alone time with Tom to extremely good use.
That’s when I saw Mrs. Sherwood’s black silk and lace stockings hanging from the smooth brass handle of one of her vanity’s drawers. I suddenly had a very kinky, kind of disturbing idea.
I jumped off the bed and snatched the silk and lace stockings from where they hung.
*****
Tom grunted as I tied the second of his wrists to one of the brass slats of the bed…the bed he and his wife slept in every night.
I made sure the stalking were tied with care, pulling them tight enough that he would probably lose circulation to his hands—but it wasn’t those appendages I was worried about blood-flow to.
He was on his back, with me astride, my thighs straddling on either side of his hips. His cock was already sheathed in a condom and generously slathered with lube. At the moment it was rubbing distractingly against my ass, sliding up into my crack, back and forth over my tender sphincter.
I had decided against binding his legs—I wanted him to have traction, a range of motion so he’d be able to run the gambit of necessary hip thrust angles…and I wanted him to be able to pile drive his cock up into me. That was probably one of my all time favorite feelings, ever: having Tom jackhammer his manhood up into my clenching guts.
I looked down on him and smiled. He looked confused, yet excruciatingly horny. Guess Susan Sarandon’s character was right in Bull Durham : a guy will let you do anything to them if they think it’s foreplay.
Which, fortunately, it was.
I pushed back a few times, making his hard cock bend back with the weight of my ass. He groaned, and I suddenly felt all breathless. It was time to get this party started.
I brought my hips forward, leaned back and guided his twitching prick up into my well lubricated hole. I had that moment of feeling impaled all the way through to my eyeballs…and my guts had to stretch like hell to accommodate him, but I pushed back and sat down hard until my ass cheeks were flush the flesh of his crotch.
I moaned in ecstatic agony, and shook my head as I saw stars floating before my eyes. My heart was hammering away in my chest, and I gasped to try to pull some air into my burning lungs.
I could
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