Every time I tried to bring up a Valentines Day date with Chris, somehow we ended up not discussing it. It wasn’t that he changed the subject, not at all, but somehow I would look back ten minutes later and realize that we didn’t talk about it. It was very sneaky of him, perhaps. Or maybe he just happened to be pretty scatterbrained lately.
But as it was, the weekend before Valentines approached and we still hadn’t cemented plans. It was getting too late to reserve seats at a restaurant or concert or something, and I didn’t want to go to a bar or club. Those places got way too crowded and sweaty and desperate on Valentines. It’s sad that I knew that.
But up until six months ago, I had the lonely fortune of a single status. Eddie’s birthday. It all changed.
I sighed as I stepped off the train on the other side of town for Eddie’s and my Friday breakfast. It would be too late to talk to Chris about a date, but maybe I could suggest both calling in sick to work and having a decadent day in his apartment. But…I wanted to go out. We were always in either of our apartments.
When I arrived at the restaurant, Eddie was waiting there at our usual table. She took one look at my face and quirked an eyebrow. “Somebody looks morose. What’s up, Buttercup?”
“Nothing,” I said, slipping into my seat. Chris would be out soon to serve us and I couldn’t very well talk about it in front of him.
“Hmm, it looks like somebody is in need of a mimosa. Garçon, two mimosas!” she said cheerily.
I expected Chris to come out of the woodworks, but instead, a younger guy who had just started a few months before approached our table, scribbling madly.
“Good morning, Ma’am,” he greeted me as soon as he had our drinks scribbled down (the drinks that I did not order…but I guess I’d drink it anyways). “I’m Kent and I’ll be your server today.”
“Where’s Chris?” I asked.
“He called in sick, I think. I’m not sure.”
I frowned in worry. It isn’t as if it was unlike him to get sick, or even not to call when he got sick, but I did know that he lived alone and his family lived a few states away. Would he be fine to take care of himself? But with Chris not here, at least, I could talk to Eddie about what was bugging me.
“I’ll have to give him a call after breakfast,” I mused as Eddie and the new waiter chatted.
“So have you got any plans for Valentines?” Eddie asked me as soon as Kent went his way to get our mimosas.
“Stop it, charlatan,” I teased. “I’m on to your tricks. What gave me away?”
“Why what are you talking about?” she asked innocently. “Yeah girl, spill. What’s up with Valentines?”
“Nothing,” I sighed. “And it’s too late for anything, too. All the restaurants will all be filled up, even the crappy ones.”
“Hmm…that boy needs a good talking to. Alright, as your duly designated voyeur, I will take it upon myself to call him up when we’re done with our breakfasts.”
“No, don’t do that,” I protested. “Not when he’s sick.”
“No better time to drive home how much a guy’s in the wrong than when he’s already feeling bad. Sorry girly, I’m doing it.”
I sighed again, but didn’t argue, because honestly, I wanted to have a decadent Valentines. This was my first one in thirty years. Hadn’t I deserved it?
I was so lost in thought and pity that I didn’t notice until I had started on the raspberry bran muffin, that I hadn’t ordered the food that had been placed in front of me. I started and looked down at the plate before me; a Belgium waffle with halved strawberries and whipped cream, two slices of rosy bacon, and an egg sitting in a cup, waiting for me to crack it open and eat.
“Did…did…” I began, turning to Eddie. It wasn’t unlike her to order things for me, but an entire meal…never.
Eddie blinked. “Did?”
I pointed to my plate and frowned. “Did you order my entire breakfast?”
She sat up straighter, looking a bit surprised by my accusation. “No. I thought you’d ordered…you didn’t?”
I shook my head and lifted the end of one ridged piece of bacon. “Nope, but here it is.”
Eddie craned her neck and looked around the room, gesturing high with her arm. “Hey, Junior. Got a question.”
When “Junior” arrived, he looked only a little put out. “Yes ma’ams. Would you like another mimosa?”
Eddie stabbed in the air with her butterknife at my plate. “Who ordered this?”
He looked perplexed. “It’s your usual. I followed the instructions left with the table and time. You are the two who sit here every Friday at this time?”
“Yes…” I began.
“There were instructions left with the order slip with your usual order.”
I looked down at my plate and shook my head. “I’ve never ordered this before.”
“Or me,” added Eddie.
“I’m very sorry, ma’am,” Junior said, flustered. “Shall I get you something else?”
I considered the spread. I knew I liked all that stuff, and the little strawberries were kind of romantic, like nature’s valentines. Besides, I had already started eating it.
“No, that’s fine,” I finally said. “I’ll finish it. I’m sorry. It’s fine, it tastes good.”
Once he’s left, Eddie said (not bothering to lower her voice), “You don’t have to eat it, you know. You never ordered it. He probably got it mixed up with somebody else.”
“No, it’s fine,” I returned, lowering my voice, at least. “Besides, the bran’s good for me. I should eat it more. Not that I need to.”
Our check came, costing much lower than I was used to. I guessed the guy comped my meal, since I didn’t actually order it, but I still paid half of the total bill. Then I went to work as usual.
At noontime, a courier came with a beautiful fruit salad in a half watermelon rind and a large bottle of sparkling pink lemonade, along with a large envelope. I perched the card on the edge of my cubicle wall so passers by could see (I didn’t often indulge myself thus) and read the note, which was addressed to me by my nickname.
Hi Cherry,
I’m so sorry I missed you at breakfast this morning. I hope my sub took care of you. Let me take you out to a little bistro tonight. I’ll send a taxi to get you.
Love you,
Chris
I felt an excited thrill at the idea of a date with him, forgetting that he was apparently sick. Maybe the cabbie would let me drop by my place to slip into a nice dress so we could make a proper date of it, rather than an after-work apology dinner.
The rest of my day at work, I was buzzing with anticipation and could hardly concentrate on what I was doing. I was thankful when the clock finally reached my quitting time. As promised, there was a cab waiting there for me and, once I confirmed who I was, we were off.
One quick change and a long drive later, the cab pulled up to a hotel. At first I started to protest that this wasn’t my destination, but then I saw on the corner of the building a name for a bistro, and Chris waiting out front, and bit my cheek.
He was handsome. I’d never seen him dressed up. He had been alright looking (I was attracted to him, but I wouldn’t say he was hot) in normal clothes, and as we didn’t really go out on fancy dates, that’s always how I saw him. But in his suit, there was no denying how good-looking he was. He was just hiding it, I guess.
His face seemed to say the same of me. “God, you look beautiful.”
I chuckled at this and slipped my arm in his. “I keep telling you I’m not God, but you say it so often, sometimes I forget.”
“Well good, because I’d praise you any day,” he said and kissed me before escorting me into the bistro.
I was drunk on the romance during the meal, soaking in the rose between us, the champagne in the tall thin flutes, the delicate portions of delicious food, and the attentions of a handsome man across from me. By the time the waiter came back around to ask if we wanted dessert, I was feeling a little tipsy.
Chris told the waiter that we’d made arrangements for dessert and to charge the meal and a nice tip to our room. He rose and offered his hand to me, but I hesitated.
“Our room?”
He grinned. “Of course. It’s the least I could do for my vivacious valentine. Do you mind? I could cancel the room and we could just go back to my apartment.”
“No…no, a room is…” amazing, I finished to myself. A hotel room weekend with Chris? Was I alive? Awake? It felt too good for real life. “I’d love it,” I finally answered, taking his hand.
He thanked the staff on the way out, something I found so adorable, and lead me to the elevators. “I didn’t bring any changes of clothes,” I said quietly to him as we waited for one to arrive.
“That’s no problem. Don’t worry, Cherry.” He kissed my cheek and the elevator doors to our left opened. A couple got in, but Chris held me back and waved them on.
“So we won’t be going out much?” I asked him, curious about that. There was plenty of room in the elevator.
“The weekend will tell,” he said mysteriously and waved another person on as they got in another elevator.
He did that twice more before one arrived and we managed to get it all to ourselves. As we walked on, I felt a small rush of thrill and of panic as a thought crossed my mind.
“Is there any reason why we have the elevator to ourselves?” I asked as he pressed the seven and we started to rise. Elevator sex, my mind whispered. I tried not to let my trepidation show.
“Well, I wanted to do something,” he said, confirming my fears…fears? “I didn’t think anybody else would appreciate my doing it.”
“What’s that?” I asked, feeling a little bit of a shuddering enter my voice.
He reached into his lapel and brought out a red silk ribbon, wide and long. I blinked, taken aback as he unraveled it and held it out in front of me. “I wanted to know…well…you’ve talked about it a couple times,” he said, all of a sudden sounding nervous. “I wanted to know if you’d be up for blindfolding and light-bondage.”
“How light?” I asked, my heart now pounding and my eyes glued to the beautiful red silk.
“Just hands,” he answered, “and maybe feet. And absolutely no S and M stuff, I swear.”
“I’d never think you’d want to do that,” I said quickly, looking up at him. “I mean about the S and M.”
He looked relieved about that and lowered his hand. I realized that we had stopped and looked out at the hall. It was empty with one room service cart waiting to be picked up. I couldn’t pretend that I wasn’t intrigued, because it was one of my fantasies, so as the doors chimed and started to slide shut, I blurted out, “Yes. I’ll try it. I want to try it.”
He sighed in relief and quickly hit another button. I didn’t catch which one as suddenly my eyes were covered and the silk tied under my knot of hair.
He was quiet for a moment and didn’t touch me, and all that I was sure of around me was the movement of the elevator and the sound of the gears around us. I don’t know why it was erotic, but it was. Then I felt his hands on my arms, bare from the evening gown, and goosebumps prickled my arms.
“I’ll be gentle,” he told me softy.
I let in a shuddering breath only a second before we heard again the ding of the elevator and the roll of the doors sliding open. My footsteps were halted as we stepped off the elevator and I could feel the difference between the floors. I didn’t do very well with walking when I didn’t know where my foot was going.
I swiveled my head from side to side, as if that could help me see the hall around me. It could very well have looked like the other hall we had stopped at, but how could I know? Were there any carts? Were there people around? Housekeeping staff? What was the pattern on the carpet and what were the room numbers we were passing?
He took my hand in his as his arm supported mine, and he murmured gently that I would be fine and to trust him. The hallway seemed to be a mile long before he finally halted and he took his hand from mine. I heard the shlack of a keycard sliding through, the click of the lock, and the tweak of a handle.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind us, he said quietly, “let me take your purse and coat,” and felt them leave my other arm. Then he offered to take my shoes and I felt his hand on the back of one calf. I lifted my foot and felt my shoe being slipped off, and then his hand was on the other calf.
I heard a rustling, as if he was taking off his jacket, and then felt his arms wrap around me. Our mouths clasped in a kiss. It started as a simple, sensual kiss, and then deepened as my hands roamed over his back and shoulders, and his hands clasped me close and one held onto my behind. His groin was thrush up against mine and I could feel him stirring.
As our mouths worked and our tongues twirled, his hands eventually found the top of my zipper and he began to draw it down. I let go of him only long enough to slip my arms out of my sleeves and then swung my hips from side to side to get the dress’s momentum going so that it would drop on the floor.
I had forgone a bra in my hurry, so that when the dress finally dropped, I was standing in only the pair of lacy briefs and the red blindfold. The air in the room was cool and blew gently against my skin. My already tender nipples hardened.
“It’s a little chilly,” I stated, cringing inwardly at my unromantic words. I didn’t want him to clothe me, but the cold had also made me a little nervous, reminding me of what was about to happen.
Warm, moist air blew onto my right ear and he murmured, “Don’t worry. You won’t be cold for long.”
His mouth kissed along my cheek to my lips and his warm hands slid down over my shoulders. And that’s when I felt a pair of hands reach from behind me and cup my breasts. I gasped, my heart leaping into my throat. I was incredibly aroused by this, but I still had too much of my sound, logical mind present.
“Chris, who’s that?” I gasped as the fingers massaged along the sides. “Who is that? What—”
“Shh, it’s alright,” he whispered, kissing me again. “Just relax and enjoy it. I promise it’s fine.”
“B—but what if I want it to stop,” I asked, trying not to moan. There was a quaver in my voice from the nerves.
I heard the disappointed pause in his voice before he asked, “Do you want to stop?”
The hands were smooth and a little small, and definitely knew their way around a breast. I wondered if I knew the person. If I did, would that be a problem? And if I didn’t, how about that? I had had sex with a stranger before, or I thought it was a stranger. I never knew. Maybe this wouldn’t be bad.
“No,” I finally answered breathlessly. “I’m fine. I trust you.”
“Okay, but how about this,” he said, sounding relieved. “Just in case you do want to stop, definitely want to stop, let’s pick a word for you to say.”
“A safe-word?”
“Yeah. Something you wouldn’t normally say.”
“Like egret?” I suggested.
He chuckled and kissed me on the temple. “Okay, that works. Now don’t think about it too much or you may blurt it out when you don’t mean to.”
As soon as he said that, I wondered how I would manage that, but within just a moment, the hands that were still working on my breasts had started playing with the tender, aching nipples. I was lost to it. Over the currents of pleasure, I heard the rustling of clothes.
Chris and I started to kiss again and I moaned into his mouth as the soft fingers worked at me. I raised my hands and went to clasp his shirt collar, but found only skin. He caught my hands and pulled away, and I felt his breath against my ear.
“No, you don’t get to touch,” he murmured.
“Oh…” I sighed, but not because of what he’d said. I hadn’t heard him. The hands that had been toying with my breasts had moved, one lower to the top of my stomach and the other to move my hair aside. The lips of the stranger behind me kissed me right behind my ear. The lips felt soft, impossibly soft. I wondered if they were a woman’s. Small hands, soft lips…
“I should tie you up,” Chris whispered, close to my ear. The soft skin behind my other ear excited by a lazy sweep of the stranger’s tongue.
“Mmm…”
“Do you like that?”
I don’t know who asked it or what it was they wondered if I liked, but I liked everything right now. An excited shiver ran up my spine at the thought of being bound, my prior reticence gone. And that soft mouth behind me with the talented hands, I wondered what else this stranger would do.
“Oooooh yes,” I shuddered as I heard the slither of fabric, knowing what it was. The lips drew a tiny bit of my skin between them and there was a nip of pleasure as they sucked, not hard but enough. Then there was a cool, slippery feeling over one shoulder, what I imagined was silk. It slipped over that shoulder and then the other.
The hands on my left and the silk began to slip around me again, across my collarbone, over my lips, over my stomach, teasing my nipples. I reached behind me out of instinct to feel who was doing this to me, even though a part of me didn’t want to know and ruin the decadence of a stranger. Once more, my hands were captured.
“Behind her back,” I heard Chris say in front of me and my wrists were drawn together at the small of my back. The slippery silk was teased once more over my breasts and then fingers of one hand tickled down the inside of my left arm, the silk trailing along behind, slithering down my spine and making me shiver.
“I’m aching,” I moaned, knowing they could smell my wetness and didn’t need me to tell them.
“Good,” Chris said, satisfied but gentle. The stranger said nothing.
The silk finally reached my wrists and was wrapped and tied around first one, then the other wrist.
“Good,” Chris said again. I felt him step up against me, the front of his body flush against mine, and he slipped his arms through my elbows and clamped my hands to my lower back as his hands cupped my ass cheeks and squeezed.
“I’m aching, too,” he murmured in my ear. His hands pulled and I was smashed against his erection. “Can you feel it?”
I nodded my head, wishing I could reach down and touch it, or look down and see it, but knowing I was helpless. He kissed me then, a long, deep kiss. I could taste the champagne on his tongue. I swirled the tip of my own around it and hummed in pleasure.
“Are you hungry?” he murmured when he pulled back for a short moment. “I think I promised you dessert.”
“Huuu…how?” I moaned as he nudged my mound with his shaft.
He didn’t say anything, but a moment later, I got my answer when something pressed against my lips, something cold and hard. I opened my mouth a little and it pushed in. The hardness scraped against my teeth at the same time the rich taste of dark chocolate fell on my tongue. The chocolate continued pressing in until my lips met with what at once I knew was Chris’ mouth. I bit down slowly, expecting it to be pure chocolate or perhaps a truffle filled with ganache, but the tart juice of a strawberry burst out and flooded my mouth.
I gasped, but Chris closed my mouth again with his own, his hands pulling me closer to him. The bittersweetness of the chocolate and the tartness of the strawberries swirled around as his tongue slipped into my mouth and stirred them. I could feel the juice trip from the side of my mouth and down my jaw as he tilted my head up.
I was dizzy from the tastes and the intense kiss by the time the berry was gone, but I was barely able to catch my breath when something soft and wet wedged between my lips. This time I opened my mouth, understanding that it would be some sort of food. I inhaled and caught the scent of a peach just before my lips met his again and I bit down.
The peach was sweet and delicate, so much more different than the powerful chocolate strawberry. I sighed, allowing the juice to swim over my tongue. This time, I slipped it into Chris’ mouth to share with him the flavor and to caress his mouth the way the flavor caressed mine.
Next was a lime coated with sugar, pure sweet with pure sour, which sent me gasping, like a painful tweak of a nipple. I clenched my hands and strained against the silk as we kissed feverishly.
The next thing to be led to my lips was cold and hard on bottom, and soft on the top. I opened my mouth willingly when I breathed in not a punch of a smell like the lime had been, but something more gentle. There were no lips to meet mine, but his hands under my chin urged me to close my mouth and take the entire contents of what turned out to be a spoon into my mouth.
It was creme brulee. I hardly had a moment to crunch the burnt sugar top when Chris’ mouth was on me again. I wanted a moment to savor the delicate cream and robust burnt sugar, but his fingers, still on my chin, forced my head back and I opened my lips on instinct, baring my mouth to him.
His tongue swept in and stole a bit of the cream and as we closed our mouths, I heard the crunch from him. A moment later we were kissing again, sharing our desserts again, and this time, the kiss continued long after the thick cream was gone.
We began to moan and I became aware again of my aching for him, but I didn’t break the kiss to tell him. A pair of hands appeared on my breasts, just as they had at the beginning of the evening, the hands of the now-forgotten stranger. And the lips returned to my neck and shoulders. I gasped into Chris’ mouth and moved my hips toward him as my fingers reached behind me for my stranger.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. For a moment, I thought he was asking me until his lips were to my ear again and he whispered, “Your stranger is hungry. Maybe they’d like some cream, too. Would you like that?”
There was a pause before he said, “I think we need more silk.”
“More?” I asked breathlessly, but suddenly he was gone from my ear. I felt the warmth of a body to my left and a hand sliding down over my hip and the outside of my leg and down until it reached my knee. The same thing happened on the other side, and I knew I was being flanked by Chris and my stranger.
With a hand cupping the inside of each knee and each calf, they pulled and I was forced to spread my legs. Then something slid between my knees, something that felt like a chair. Another moment later, I felt the now-familiar silk slip around each ankle and secure me to what I supposed was a chair leg.
Then, without a word, the smaller hands went to my hips and slid up, pushing. I took the hint and bent forward, wondering how I might stay up. But my face met a warm, soft surface and I felt breath on my chest at the same time breath entered the hot area between my legs. The surface rose and fell beneath me and I could hear a heartbeat. Chris’ heart. Or my stranger.
Hands were on my knees and started to rise and fall slowly on my lower-thighs. A tongue licked the inside of my left leg, not three inches below my entrance. I opened my mouth against the chest beneath me and groaned out at the same time his opened and took my right breast.
I turned my head, cheek on Chris’ chest, and let out a long moan. My nipples were tender and sore with need. His mouth seemed to sense this, as his teeth bit ever so slightly, tugged to the side, then released me, only to be replaced by his mouth, wide and engulfing. His tongue slipped over my skin and then disappeared as his lips met my nipple and he sucked.
At the same time, my stranger’s tongue had found my opening and dipped in. I let out a cry and squeezed my hands behind my back. Chris pulled at my nipple as the tongue behind me slid up the tender path between my holes. I whimpered and tried to move back against the tongue, but two sets of hands tightened on me to keep me in place.
The tongue returned to my opening, this time swirling inside and flicking further inside for just a moment. I gasped and the tongue flicked in further in response.
“Oh…” I wanted to moan out the stranger’s name, but I didn’t know. All I could say was Oh, so I said it again, and again.
As the tongue worked deeper and deeper inside me, little by frustratingly little, Chris switched breasts and continued his attentions. I opened my mouth against his chest and sucked, mostly for something to do and something to hold onto. Then I released him and slid my tongue out to taste his skin.
Behind me, the tongue flicked in a few quick times and then lashed out at my clitoris. I cried out and clamped my mouth down on Chris’ chest, only to find his nipple. It wasn’t very large, mostly because I never thought to play with it when we were alone, but now I latched on and sucked. He yelped out in surprise against my own nipple. One of his hands released my shoulders and caught my free breast. He pinched in earnest as I flicked my tongue over his, following the motions of the stranger’s tongue on my clitoris. We were the both of us groaning. I could feel my excitement flowing down my leg. It all felt fantastic, but I needed more!
The thought cycled through my delirious head. More, more. I was on overload, but I needed more! The tongue left my clitoris and I moaned in disappointment, but thought maybe it would return to teasing my opening. Instead, nothing. And then Chris released my breasts and slid away.
My cheek and shoulders were placed to rest on a soft, satiny surface, maybe an ottoman. I heard shuffling for a few moments and wondered what Chris and my stranger had arranged. Then, the thing I expected least to happen, happened.
Chris’ hands took hold of my behind and spread, and I felt something slick and slightly cool drizzle down between them. I gasped, more out of realization than of shock at the sensation.
“You look tight,” Chris observed, his hands squeezing at my cheeks, his thumbs making tiny circles where they rested. “Your stranger looks forward to finding out.”
I heard the smucking and slicking of lubricant behind me. A moment later, the tip of a finger, the thumb, from what the spread of the others against my cheek would explain, came to rest against my puckering perineum. I let out a cry of unexpected pleasure and then gasped out. Then the thumb pressed slightly. By reflex, I tightened.
“You are tight,” Chris noted, his hands now kneading my cheeks. “You’ll need to relax. Shhh, just relax.”
The thumb at my pucker began to make tiny circles and I heard moans escaping me. The ache inside me was growing. I was getting weak in the knees again. Then I felt something strange, not like anything I’d felt before. The thumb’s tip had penetrated my tight opening and slipped in, moving upward and inside.
I let out a long sound, growing louder as the thumb continued up. It seemed as if it was so much longer than I knew it actually was. It seemed to slip in forever. I felt the first knuckle pop in, but when the hump of the second knuckle reached my opening, it stopped.
I slumped slightly, panting. Oh, I wanted more! But it was such an effort to relax just for one thumb. How could I handle more? The more I desperately needed?
“Good girl,” Chris whispered to me. The thumb inside me curled in and I let out a surprised cry followed by a moan. The thumb circled and massaged my walls and the back of my pucker. My moans became louder. It began to move slowly in and out. I knew it was just the tiniest bit, but it felt like so much. It worked around, pressing against my perineum. I started to moan in rhythm with the movement. I tried to move against it, too, but Chris’ hands were still holding me wide.
Suddenly, the thumb stopped and started to drag out. I tried to catch it and pull it back in, but it slipped free, leaving me smacking my opening, trying to find it and take it, longing to draw it inside once again.
I heard the sound of lubricant and my horny mind elated. I didn’t know what was coming, but it had to be more. I was practically quivering with anticipation when I felt the thumb return to my entrance, but this time, it was joined by another.
I whimpered and tried to press back as they paused at the pucker, which was clenching and contracting in earnest. Chris wouldn’t let me budge, but instead spread my cheeks wider.
“Oh…please…” I begged. “Push in.”
“Slowly,” Chris told me.
“No…” I almost whined it. “I can take it.”
“Slowly,” Chris repeated, and the two thumbs pressed in.
This time it was easy for them to slip in that first little bit, but together, they were so wide that I wondered how they could make it any further. I let out a sound of disappointment, which quickly turned to a hum of pleasure as the thumbs started a rhythm of pressure and release, like they were testing for a weak spot to break through. I felt shivers and tingles all over.
Little by little, the pressure increased, and the speed slowed until with one purposeful push, both thumbs popped inside me. Immediately they curled, massaging my walls. My voice quavered and my knees shook. The stranger’s thumbs began to pump inside me. It felt so good, but I still wanted more.
“No more thumbs,” I panted. “Not fingers…I want you inside me.”
“Who do you want inside you?” Chris asked. “Is it me?”
“N…no,” I stammered, almost senseless from the sensations. “My stranger. I want my stranger.”
“Then I get to watch your stranger take your ass,” Chris told me. “Look right down and watch it go all the way in. Do you want that?”
“Ooooooooh…now!” I begged. “Please, yes!”
“Slowly,” Chris said the familiar, maddening word, but this time it gave me hope of what was coming.
The thumbs popped quickly out of my hole, making an audible sound and I felt myself clench in surprise and then open wide. Before I could clench again, I felt Chris pull my cheeks so wide I felt I would split open and a large head try to wedge its way in. Chris relaxed his hold, but the head crowning in my hole was unrelenting.
I grunted and whimpered as it pressed at me, but soon the head began the undulating motion from the thumbs before it, and Chris began to kneed my cheeks, and before I knew it, the head had popped in.
Chris groaned. “That looks so amazing,” he said, I wasn’t sure who to. “Let me look for a bit before you move in her.”
My cheek and shoulders still on the satiny surface, I let myself adjust to the size of the head inside me. It had hurt, and my hole was throbbing, but the presence and the pressure of it was making the warm glow and the heady tingles return.
Just when my hole had recovered, the intruding length inside me began to move, slowly as Chris had instructed. It seemed to take forever before it stopped. Then there was a pause and it moved back, sending shoots of pleasure up my spine. A pair of small hands took my hips, the pair I remembered from before. They pulled me back as it started to push in again. Slowly
I felt my shoulders lifted and a warm body slid below me. Chris again, I supposed, since my stranger was penetrating my ass. His leg slid between my legs. His other leg. They dragged over my mound and got coated from my drooling lips. His head pressed against my stomach. I wanted to reach around and grab it, slowly work him up and down as my stranger slowly worked in and out of me, but my hands could do nothing but clench fruitlessly behind me.
His hands caressed down my sides, teasing at the sides of my breasts. His mouth closed over my moans, his tongue finding mine and humping against it. I sucked at it and wrestled it and curled around it as we kissed. His fingers drew tortuous curlicues over my lower back and my cheeks, slipping down just enough to touch the slick, sensitive skin beside my stranger’s now plunging length.
Then his fingers slid down between my legs and cupped me. He tore his mouth away and grunted, “You’re pouring wet.” His hand moved away just long enough for me to feel a quickly cooling drizzle over my cheeks and I assumed the eagerly working stranger. Then his fingers returned.
First they slipped over my already gaping lips. I bucked under the strong hands on my hips and let out a sharp cry. “Oh God Chris, I won’t last if you do that,” I panted.
He ignored me and slid his fingers up again, then down, and then inside. I shouted. Three quick thrusts of his fingers had me almost sobbing in pleasure and desperation. I wanted more, though I didn’t know what that could possibly be, and I knew there was no way I could handle it! I was about to break!
I started to pant nonsense when his slick, moist fingers slid up and found my little clitoris. He began to rub as the stranger continued behind me. Together, from both ends, they were making me feel so high on pleasure, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I shuddered and shook, gasping for air, my keening voice going higher and higher as I tilted my head back.
“Don’t stop!” I heard Chris shout as I convulsed in orgasm. One of his hands clenched my shoulder as his other one returned to my entrance, abandoning my now painfully delicate clitoris.
When I returned to myself, I was still simmering in pleasure, the stranger still working and my ass-walls still undulating. Chris slipped himself lower. I felt the head drag down past my stomach and come to rest on my mound. His fingers left my opening, followed shortly by the familiar condom-wrapped head of his cock. I felt it rock back and forth as he covered it in my cum and then he slipped it right at the entrance.
My mind was barely able to wrap itself around what was about to happen before, with a great upward lunge, he buried himself inside me at the same instant my stranger buried inside my ass.
“Hold it,” Chris said in a strained voice.
They both stayed right where they were, buried deep, stretching both my walls, filling up both my holes so full, I didn’t think I could ever feel empty again. My entire abdomen seemed to throb and pulse and undulate.
I almost orgasmed again right there, just in that one still moment of fullness and complete penetration, but then they began to move and the clock on our sex began to tick again. Feeling their heads move together with just a thin wall between them was indescribable. I moaned.
At first their movements were simultaneous, but then they got a little out of sync, their heads popping to replace each other at the end. I let out a cry each time. And then their movement were completely opposite, one head pulling back against the other length’s advance, pulling against my wall, creating a new sensation. It was nothing quite as filling as their movements in unison, but the friction drove me crazy.
When they were synched up again, Chris’ mouth found my breast as the stranger’s fingers zeroed in on my clitoris. He sucked at my nipple, hardly able to for his gasps and grunts. By this time, both thrusts inside me were quick, powerful jabs. He was growing near, I could tell by the roughness on my breasts and in my walls. The fingers on my clitoris were equally as fervent, shuddering and quick and rough, until I was screaming from climax.
Chris’ hips shot up, his hands squeezing my hips to pin me down on him. The stranger thrust a few times and then buried as deep as possible. Chris’ mouth sucked so hard on my nipple, I knew it’d be bruised, but I didn’t care, and the stranger’s finger was replaced by a thumb that jammed into my clitoris and wiggled it.
My climax ended and rolled into another as Chris came below me, his shouts muffled by my breast. Our shouts were joined by a third, the moans behind me. I knew the voice.
The orgasm dropped off slowly, dropping me with it, and I landed on Chris’ chest, his draining cock still inside me. As we panted wearily for breath, I could only muster one word.
“Eddie…”