Chapter 23

Connie

 

I woke in the morning to the feel of unseasonably warm sunshine on my face, streaming through the window above the bed. Mitch was lying beside me. He was asleep on his back, and I rolled slowly onto my side, facing him. I studied him with a devoted kind of wonder. In sleep, his face was unlined, untroubled by the worries of the word. His mouth was relaxed, his jaw stubbled by unshaven shadow. He had kicked the sheets aside during the night. They were draped around his waist but his chest was uncovered and I watched the slow rise and fall of his chest with every breath.

We had fallen asleep naked in each other’s arms; me cuddled against him with one leg thrown across his torso.

His torso…

I remembered again the night in Moscow when I had snuck into his room and watched him sleeping. I remembered my hand on the hem of the sheet and the reckless urge to draw its aside to see his cock... and I remembered my nerve failing me at the last possible second.

I no longer had any such hesitations.

I lifted the sheet and pulled it carefully down the bed. Mitch’s cock was semi-hard. I leaned over his thighs and blew a breath of warm air against his balls. Mitch slept on and I felt mischievously emboldened. I tucked my hair behind my ear and then gently kissed the flat ridges of his abdomen, working my way towards his resting cock. Mitch muttered something in his sleep; a kind of slur of words I didn’t hear or understand.

I waited for him to re-settle and when his breathing was once again steady and rhythmic, I retraced the line of my kisses until my lips were plucking gently at the head of his cock. I felt him harden instinctively and shot a sideways glance at his face.

He seemed unmoved; still sound asleep. I slid my mouth slowly all the way over his shaft, trying to take as much of him as I could down the back of my throat. Mitch’s cock turned hard as iron between my lips, and I had to draw back for fear of choking. I came up for breath like a deep-sea diver breaching the surface and licked my lips.

Already he felt familiar to me; the ridges along the length of his shaft were like the contours of familiar terrain. Each vein and every inch of texture was known to me. I swirled my tongue around the swollen crown that was turning purple and engorged.

His shaft was coated in the wetness from my mouth. It jutted stiff and accusing, like a beautiful statue, carved of hard man-flesh. I watched Mitch’s face closely. His eyes were still shut, his breathing still monotonous and rhythmic. Either he was still asleep, or he had taken acting classes.

I licked the palm of my hand and reached down between my legs, spreading the saliva with the natural moisture that was already simmering between the lips of my pussy. I was incredibly wet. I teased my clit and then pushed a finger inside myself. I clenched my muscles and felt the grip of me tighten. There was just the faintest of aches, like a long-distant bruise. I licked my lips again and then climbed on top of Mitch’s cock.

He woke the moment I slid down upon him, his eyes flying open, made wild and confused by the sudden riot of sensations. His gaze fixed wide-eyed on me. I had my mouth open, my head thrown back a little, my back arched as I eased myself down on him.

“Connie?”

“Daddy,” I breathed and then the words broke into a long satisfied groan as I felt the flat of his abdomen brush against the nub of my clit. He was all the way inside me, filling me so completely that I just sat astride him, sobbing in soft pleasure.

I placed the palms of my hands flat on Mitch’s chest to balance myself and fixed him with my hungry eyes.

“Just relax,” I cooed. “I wanted to do this for you. I wanted you to wake up this way… and I needed your cock again.”

With my knees on either side of his hips, I began to rock like I was gently riding a horse. Mitch’s cock stayed deeply embedded within the grip of my pussy and I simply swayed myself back and forth, not attempting to any more than just enjoy the wonderful sensation of fullness. Mitch drew a deep hissing breath and reached for my breasts. He cupped them in his hands and I fell forward at last to kiss him. My hair tumbled free but it didn’t matter by then. Mitch’s tongue thrust between my lips and he matched the clench of his cock to the press of his kisses.

I felt my back arch and his big strong hands wrapped around me to hold me against him. My breasts mashed against his chest, my nipples abraded and stiff. He dug his fingers into my flesh so that I felt locked in a vice-like clamp.

He braced himself and then thrust his hips up, driving his cock inside me. I gasped and cried out in surprise.

“Again!” I pleaded. “Again and again and again!”

Mitch growled and his body became a battering ram, driving up into my clenching pussy, each plunge like a hammer-blow that sent ripples of arousal throughout my body.

I went limp within the bands of his arms and let him have me.

When I felt my orgasm tingle then intensify, Mitch was beginning to breathe hard from the exertion of driving himself into me. His face was darkly intense, his mouth drawn in a tight line. I felt like flotsam tossed about on a powerful sea; he was fucking me hard and all I could do was surrender. He came inside me when I least expected it; the orgasm seemed to take him by complete surprise. His cock flexed and his rhythm descended into a frantic tempo. Then I felt the hot splash of his cum within me, and his face twisted into a mask of tortured ecstasy. I rode the waves of his release and heard the saw of his breath. He began to soften inside me and I quickly reached down between us and strummed my clit. The space where our bodies joined was wet with my juices and the trickle of his cum. I dipped my fingers in the elixir and got myself off with just a few knowing touches.

My own orgasm was intense. It rolled through me like thunder across a storm sky. I slumped against Mitch’s heaving chest and kissed him languidly, our bodies still locked together, still rippling with orgasmic aftershocks.

I hovered on the dreamy edge between waking and sleep until I felt Mitch stir at last.

“That’s one hell of a way to say good morning,” he said. When he spoke, I could feel the rumble of the words vibrating in his chest. “You can do my wake-up calls any time.”

He kissed me again, unhurriedly, and then sat up in the bed like he regretted having to leave me lying there. He disappeared into the adjoining bathroom and came back a few minutes later. He was wide awake, and wearing a pair of black shorts. He found a t-shirt in a dresser drawer and when he was dressed, he turned his attention back to me. He came to the edge of the bed and gazed down at me. I was lying on my back. I edged my legs apart and arched my eyebrows. The invitation needed no words; he could have me any time he wanted me.

Mitch shook his head ruefully. “You need to get up,” he muttered. “I’ll meet you downstairs in ten minutes and we can talk about breakfast… and everything else that needs a resolution.”