Chapter 17

Blair

The ceiling lights were on, the door shut tight, and the covers thrown back. It was just me and him, my robe drooping open, exposing my breasts. My nipples puckered from the cold air. Outside silence pressed in on the house; night time had brought more snow.

Any hint of purity I’d had was gone but I didn’t miss it. His lips on my skin, his fingers and touch erased doubts and fears. All the anxiety and pain I’d felt – he had the power to take it away.

Was it supposed to be like this? Was it supposed to feel as if he had magical goddamn powers?

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” he asked.

“Maybe,” I whispered. “I don’t remember.” The last day was a blur of lust and frustration, boiling in the same pot. So, an average Christmas, apparently.

“You’re stunning,” Samson said. “Perfect in every way. Ha, I guess talk is cheap.” He slipped the robe from my left shoulder, and it fell to my waist, puddling there. Samson inhaled – a sharp, ragged breath.

I watched my effect on him. The way he rubbed the front of his jeans, over the bulge there, and the dilation of his pupils. This man wanted me.

His sheer desire laid bare made my toes curl.

Samson took one of my breasts in his palm and the shock of warm skin against my cold brought a shiver from me.

I clasped his shoulder and dug my fingernails in. “O-oh.”

“Such a gorgeous body,” he said and cupped the other breast. He pressed them together, then crouched over and took both my nipples in his mouth and sucked, hard. The wetness and pressure – it was almost too much.

My eyes rolled back in my head, and I leaned back, arched into it, watched the point of contact between us, his pink tongue ravaging my soft flesh. “Good,” I managed.

Samson gave one languorous suck, kissed either pink nub, then released me and watched my tits jounce back into place. “You taste delicious. Lie on your side.”

I followed his instruction, wriggling out of the robe as I did.

Samson rose from the bed and removed his clothes, piece by piece, keeping his gaze on mine, devouring me. He was such a fucking man. So strong inside and out.

Rippling muscles, his pecs and biceps, the beard, and the hair, shaven on one side. His strong nose, straight, perfectly distanced from lips that weren’t too big or too thin. How could one dude be this perfectly proportioned? It wasn’t just the symmetry of him – he had character, too: a small scar beneath one eye, almost tear-drop shaped. I’d never noticed it before, probably because I’d been too self-involved to care. And, god, the tattoos that crawled down his arms tempted me – I longed to explore them and taste his flesh.

He whipped off his belt and dropped it.

Here we go. Oh, god. Here it comes.

Samson undid the front button of his jeans, then worked them off his hips, dropped them. His dick bounced free. Oh. My. God. I’d forgotten how big it was. The clean-shaven area around it probably enhanced the effect but I’d felt him inside me enough times to know that this wasn’t some illusion.

The man was hung. He was also dripping for me again.

I licked my lips. “You tasted me,” I said. “It’s only fair that I get to taste you.”

Samson grinned. “You read my mind. Tasting your cunt is number one on my list of favorite things to do.” He got onto the bed, then lay down with his head nearest my pussy.

I gasped. I’d never done this before. I’d give blowjobs, sure, not many of them, but at the same time as him…

Samson shifted my leg, planted my foot on the bed, then blew gently on my mound. “Put your hand on my cock.”

I grasped it at its thick base, marveled at the girth all over again. His skin was smooth against mine but further up the shaft, a vein stood out. I licked my lips.

“Wet your hand,” he said. “Spit on it.”

I followed his orders yet again, then ran my wet skin over his head and down to the shaft.

“Fuck yes,” he said, and jerked a little. Samson lowered his lips to my pussy and kissed the mound, just above my clit. “Now, we’re going to have some fun. You’re going to moan on my cock. Do you like the sound of that, Blair?”

“Yes,” I said and licked my lips. “I do.”

“Suck me,” he replied.

I took his head into my mouth and tasted the light saltiness of his pre-cum, rolled it back over my tongue and swallowed. That was good. That was so fucking good it made me want to scream.

Samson slapped my ass. “Deep throat it,” he said.

I plunged my mouth over his dick, opened up as wide as I could and took in as much as possible. I choked a little and pulled back, did it again, moved my hand in time with the motions, devouring him, enjoying every second of his skin on my tongue.

“Good,” he grunted.

He angled his head toward my pussy, parted my lips, and buried his head between my legs.

Slick, hot pleasure streaked through my chest, and I moaned, halfway down his cock – that was as far as I could get without gagging. My jaw ached, and tears gathered in the corners of my eyes. I loved this. This was –

Samson plunged his tongue inside me, thick and greedy, slurping me up.

I cried out and went faster, matching the thrust of him inside my pussy, moving my hand over him, tasting the flavor of his juices. I closed my eyes and savored every thrill of desire, every pang. His cock throbbed in my mouth, and more pre-cum spread across my tongue. I drank it down, drank it and wanted more.

Samson sucked my clit into his mouth and probed it with the tip of his tongue, the warm shoots continued. He inserted two fingers inside me and rammed them deep, worked them against my G-spot. Pressure built fast.

“Oh, god,” I said. It came out ‘oh haw’ around his dick, and the silliness of it didn’t bother me a bit. Every inhibition had dissolved. It was just us.

Just his tongue tasting me folds, exploring me, teasing my clit. Just his fingers pounding inside me, two now, thick and hard, twisting, working. And just his dick in my mouth, so fat it barely fit.

This moment erased everything else.

I thrust my pussy against his face, in time with his finger strokes inside me, his suckling against my clit.

He looped an arm around my back and cupped my ass cheeks tight, forced my hips closer, increased the intensity.

I mirrored him, sucking and slurping, drinking it up. I moaned. The first shoots of my orgasm sprouted inside me, my pussy tightened.

Samson grunted at the sensation, and his dick grew thick again. He was close. He tried pulling out but I latched onto his ass and didn’t let him. I want it all. I want it all! Every drop!

The thought pushed me over the cusp, and I thundered through my orgasm, moaned around his dick but stopped sucking. I couldn’t possibly at the same time.

My mind blanked out. White, blinding ecstasy flashed in front of my eyes.

Samson moved for me, his lips still on my that tight bud of raw nerve endings. He pounded his dick into my mouth, harder, faster, desperate, grunting, now.

Finally, he released, spurting everything he had into the back of my throat.

I gulped it down, took in every drop, and drank it even as I jammed through my own climax.

Samson drew his dick out of my mouth slowly, and his head popped free.

“Oh, god,” I managed, my mouth numb. The aftershocks of my climax pulsed through me again. “Oh, my good fucking – wow.”

Samson chuckled and kissed my swollen lips one last time, gently – no clit action or I’d likely screech. He swiveled and came up the bed, lay next to me, then tugged me into his arms. “Your first time with that, too, eh?”

“Yes,” I said. “Can we do that again?” When? It’s Christmas Day soon. What are you going to do after it’s over?

“Any time you want. But next time, I’ll bury my dick inside you, too. You’re too hot and tight.”

“Is that what you wanted to do?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” I replied. “This was – new.”

He laughed and kissed my forehead, then reached for the sheets and tugged them over us. “Not long until morning,” he said. “Let’s get some sleep. It’s Christmas soon, Blair, and all I want is you.”

“Good,” I said and yawned. “Because I can’t afford to buy you anything else.”

Sleep wrapped sweet arms around me and rocked me back and forth into a dreamless sleep. Just him and me, that was all that mattered now. Not the past or even the future. Just this moment of us together.

One last kiss on the forehead from him, one last whiff off his cologne, and I was out.