Coming Home

Cassadee:

He let go of my hands as I shimmied quickly out of the dress, kicking it away. And as soon as I had my dress off, I tried to turn around, but I felt his hands return to clasp mine together again and I bumped against the wall again.

“Can I turn around?” I asked meekly, because as much as I liked him to be in control, I’d very much rather see his face. I felt his lips on my neck as he whispered into my ear, “Nope.” And I groaned in frustration, then in ecstasy as I felt his free hand creep up to my chest.

I felt him finger the fabric of my bra gently, always close enough to send tingles of hunger down my spine, but not close enough. I felt myself shamelessly whimper as he continued to get closer to the centre of my boobs.

I thought of the word 'boobs' and giggled slightly. Derrick noticed and pushed himself against me- and I felt his throbbing erection on my back and I stopped- my voice stuck in my throat.

Then he pulled down the front of my bra and ran a thumb across my right nipple- the fire between my legs intensified. I whimpered louder as his hand reached to my left nipple as he tweaked it gently. I heard him laugh, and I pushed my butt towards his groin- transitioning his stupid laugh into a moan.

“Turn me around,” I commanded, as he teased my breasts. Muttering something unintelligent, Derrick finally let go of my hands, and I let them sag downwards before he flipped me around and pushed me against the wall. I felt his groin push against my core and a pleasure shot through me so quickly my vision blurred.

Unclasping my bra from the back, he threw it aside, and suddenly I was bare other than the thin fabric of my underwear separating all of me from him.

“Happy?” He whispered into my ear, and his lips reached mine before leaving again- leaving me breathless as he attacked my breasts, sucking, then biting lightly. The pleasure which came in sporadic darts intensified into a sort of rhythm. I felt stuck in a limbo between being completely sane and losing myself to this dirty, dirty sexual act we were doing.

As he sucked on me, I let my hands explore his body again. Feeling his muscles tense as I raked my fingers into his back, down his torso- stopping right above his belt. Flipping it loose, I felt his hard member press against my hand, before using my legs to push his pants down. Now we were even.

I felt around the dark, before figuring out the tent that his boxers made and deftly traced a hand across it, enjoying the satisfaction I got when I felt him stiffen up.

“Fuck.”

“Tsk, no swearing Fieldings,” I husked cheekily. I heard him swear again before he pressed his palm against my underwear- the sudden contact making me buckle. I saw colours erupt as he pressed harder, finger pads gently pushing against my core. He knew I was wet, because I felt him smirk at me in the dark.

Then suddenly all I saw was his face, smiling at me through the dark, eyes never leaving mine. I felt his fingers teasing me, rubbing slowly against the fabric of my panties, making the darts of pleasure shift into a gentle wave of sexual satisfaction. I felt the erotic tension build, like the way waves build before it crashes onto the shore.

Then his fingers left my core and I sagged downwards, breathing heavily, legs shaking. He hadn’t even gotten me fully naked yet and I could feel sweat forming at the nape of my neck.

Then he was tugging my underwear downwards, away from me, letting the cold air play thoughtfully over my naked body. I thought of covering up my scars, the ones that littered my thighs, the ones that marked my abdomen- but I realised that in the dimness of the night and in the haze of wine, he couldn’t see them.

Then he pushed his lips towards mine again, our lips barely touching, before I pulled his arms into me, lips crashing painfully together. I wanted him so badly, I wanted him in me, I just wanted him. It was a strange feeling, being dependent on someone so lustfully- a warmth that gradually heated into an uncomfortable burning sensation.

Lips to lips, I tasted him. He tasted like champagne, and I wondered what I tasted like to him. I hoped it was something pleasant. Then he pulled away suddenly and looked at me.

The room vanished, and all I saw were his brown eyes, bearing into mine like he was alive. I wanted it to last, if limbo were tranquillity, I wanted it to last forever- his eyes on mine.

Then his fingers were pressing against my slit and I snapped out of it. Moaning so loud that my lips touched his, my hands clutching his neck like I needed him, like I needed air, bringing him to my shoulder. Fingers on me, he traced tiny circles around my core, using his thumb to gently pull at my skin before gently sliding two fingers in.

I felt the fire in me, which I thought was already a raging inferno, build rapidly. I let out shameless moans, which I knew he revelled in, even though his eyes never left mine and I felt stuck. He pushed in and out, slowly- until I felt all my muscles clench. Then his fingers were gone and I completely let myself sink to the ground.

“Fucking hell Derrick,” I gasped.

“Such a potty mouth,” he replied back, before grabbing my thighs and letting me wrap my legs around him as I did the same with my arms around his neck as we stumbled towards the bed. I trembled from the apprehension, and also the pooling warmth and wetness between my legs. Using my feet, I pushed his boxers down.

I never realised that he was moaning and panting as heavily as me before I felt him press his tip just outside of my core. I felt him, warm and fully charged- the heat pulsing between us, bodies crushed together in a mangly mess. I felt his hand thread through my hair, and I grabbed his neck- bracing myself. I was going to pass out from all this tension, I knew it.

Then he pushed in, and I saw stars, before yelling out. He filled me to my entirety. Ever since I knew him, I wondered what this would feel like. And it was happening, and it was too much. The great thing was that the pleasure completely filled me up, engulfing me almost painfully. The bad thing was that I was afraid I might burst from everything.

I held onto him for my dear life as he pushed in and out, feeling myself clench around him- fitting together like mismatched puzzle pieces. There was that burning ache to hold onto something as pleasure crashed into me, again and again. I felt him tighten next to me, I heard him moan as loud as I was moaning.

I felt everything, and that was the problem.

Suddenly everything on strings came crashing down and my pleasure reached a peak I never knew existed. I exploded and muscles clenched, and my insides melted into nothing. I shuddered, as he continued, pounding away. I didn’t know how long it lasted, all I know was that we were sweaty, and it was kind of gross.

Then he shuddered and shivered before stopping and collapsing next to me. Panting, I looked at him- eyes closed, trying as hard as me to get a grip. In a few moments, the light in his eyes would dim and he would surrender to sleep.

“Did I use a condom?” He asked, eyes half-opened, gazing at me.

Rolling next to him and kissing his cheek, I felt a dull sadness spread across me. How such feelings came so rapidly I would never know.

“It doesn’t matter love,” I whispered before the light in his eyes switched off and he dozed off.

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I wonder how many people know that the day when I got stabbed, I didn't lose just one singular thing. Sure I lost a lot of blood and I lost Derrick. But I also any chances of fertility. That day stole away more than just everything from me- but how can you feel sad for something you never experienced before?