Carly
I shouldn’t have asked him up to my apartment. I know that. Hell, I shouldn’t even have let him kiss me.
But he is so fucking hot, wearing his Levi’s that are faded in all the right places and that collared shirt that makes his arms and his chest look so big. I just couldn’t help it. When he kissed me, I had to kiss him back.
I am drunk and completely aware of it. And I don’t care. Maybe that is because I’m drunk, but I don’t think about that too much. My head is light and airy, and I feel beautiful. I know that he looks at my body as I climb every step to my apartment on the second floor. I know that his eyes are glued to my ass when we walk to my front door, and I know that his fingers smell like me because of how he’d touched me in the car.
I don’t just want to send him home.
When I unlock my door and invite him in, he barely stays away from me to close and lock the door behind us. He is on top of me in no time, driving me backward until my back is against the wall next to the door. I bump the small table next to the door–where I put my keys and my handbag–with my hip, and the wooden elephant ornament falls off. It makes a dull thud on the carpet, and I don’t care if it is broken or not.
“Sorry,” Kevin mumbles against my lips.
I don’t respond. Instead, I put my arms around his neck and let him kiss me harder. His tongue is in my mouth, and he tastes like whiskey. I could still feel his fingers between my legs, the friction caused by his rough skin left behind like a ghost of what he’d done to me in the car.
I want more. I am so wet, it’s crazy. I can feel my panties soaked through.
He finds the hem of my dress and lifts it up, peeling it off my body. When he steps back to give himself space to maneuver, I lift my arms like a child to let him pull the dress over my head. I stand in front of him in black lace underwear, one of the matching sets that always makes me feel like a million bucks.
“God, you’re so fucking hot, Carly,” he says.
He kisses me again before I can answer, his hands going for my breasts, He massages them and squeezes them through the material. He peels the lace cups to the side and squeezes my nipples, tugging at them until I moan into his mouth. He pins me against the wall with his hips, grinding his hard cock against my pubic bone.
I am starting to get frustrated. I want more. I want all of it. I reach for his shirt and unbutton it, peeling it off his shoulders. He lets go of me, and I pull the shirt down. He helps me and throws the shirt on the floor.
My hands go to his pectorals, and I push my fingers into the hair on his chest. It is just enough to be manly and rugged, not so much that it’s a turn off.
He pulls me away from the wall
“Where’s your room?” he asks.
I turn around and lead him to my room. The apartment isn’t very big, and we are in the main bedroom in no time. I turn around once we are in the middle of the room and tug at his belt, undoing the buckle and then unzipping his pants. He unclasps my bra and it is a tug of war to see who is going to get the other out of their clothes first.
When I get his pants down, his cock strains against his boxers, hard and thick. My bra hangs from one arm, and I let it slide off and drop onto the floor. My panties are already around my ankles, and I step out of them.
Kevin does the last part. He pulls down his boxers and gets rid of them. For a moment, I just take in the sight of his cock–the thick meat, the bulbous head, slick with lust. Pubic hair the same color as his chest hair is scattered around the base of his cock.
I run my hands down his chest, over his abdomen, following the triangle from his navel to his pubic region. He jerks a little when my fingers run over his lower abdomen.
I run my fingers through the thick patch of hair. Then, I cup his balls, running my fingers along the base of his cock, teasing him. He groans, and I can see the desire and frustration in his eyes.
I smile before I drop to my knees. I look up at him, and his icy eyes are glued to mine when I open my mouth and slide him between my lips. I bob my head and suck him deeper into my mouth, tasting his precum. It is salty and warm and slick.
With my tongue, I lick the bottom of his shaft. I take him farther into my mouth, sucking him in and licking him on the way out. I massage his balls as I do it and extend my mouth by holding him at the base of his cock and moving my hand up and down with my mouth.
He groans and puts his hands on my head, weaving his fingers in my hair. I shiver.
Before long, he holds my head in place and pushes in once, deeper than I’d gone before, before he pulls out. I haven’t done anything like that before, but the idea of him taking control makes me shudder.
“On the bed,” he orders.
I do as he asks. I get up and crawl onto the bed backward. He crawls onto the bed with me and pushes my legs open with his hands. I don’t fight him on it. I lean back, propped onto my elbows, my body on display for him. He studies my pussy and his face is hungry.
When he dips his head, I lay back completely. His lips touch my pussy, and I jerk at the sensation. He sticks out his tongue and licks the length of my slit, making me shiver and yelp when his tongue flicks over my sensitive clit. After the orgasm in the car, I am more aware of his movements down there, of where his tongue goes and what he does with it.
He licks my clit, flicking his tongue back and forth. He does that for a while before he pushes one finger into me. It feels amazing, even though it is just his finger, not his cock. Kevin closes his mouth over my clit, sucking on me. I cry out. He slowly slides his finger in and out of my pussy, sucking on my clit, bringing me closer and closer to another orgasm.
The sensation is amazing. He brings me to the edge and keeps me there. The world spins slowly around me, and I know I’ve had a lot to drink tonight, but the lust and adrenaline have countered it by now. Aside from being less shy about fucking someone who was almost completely a stranger, there is nothing left of the effect of the alcohol.
After a while, Kevin stops. I lift my head and look at him. He wipes his mouth with his fingers before he sits up.
“Turn around,” he says, his hand already on my hip. He helps me up so that I’m down on all fours, my ass pointing to him. I wiggle my ass a bit and look over my shoulder at him.
I don’t usually do this. But I want Kevin to fuck me. I want more than just a finger inside me.
He doesn’t need more encouragement than that. He touches my entrance with his fingers, guiding himself toward me before he presses the tip of his cock against my pussy. I hold my breath in anticipation. He slides into me, and I gasp. He is longer and thicker than he looks, splitting my body apart. I brace myself on the bed to keep my balance.
When he is inside me to the hilt, he pauses a moment. I move a little, wiggling my ass around him. That is all the time he allows me to adjust to him before he pulls out again. This time, when he pushes back in, it is a lot harder and a lot faster. I cry out as he pulls out another time and pushes in again. He builds up a rhythm and fucks me harder, his strokes quickening and his hips banging against mine.
The harder he fucks me, the louder I moan. The sound of sex fills the room–flesh slamming into flesh, his heavy breathing, and my orgasmic cries.
He hammers into me, his balls slapping against my clit, and it is so hot, tugging at my core. I tip my head up and arch my back so he drives deeper and deeper into me. He runs his hands up my back, around my ribs, and onto my breasts. He squeezes them, tugs at the nipples, leaning me so that he holds onto my breasts to keep me in position as he fucks me.
I get the impression he is close to coming–his breathing becomes ragged and he takes on a primal rhythm. Before he releases, though, he pulls out of me. I cry out in protest and feel his absence acutely, my body gaping where he’d been a moment earlier. He is breathing hard.
He pushes gently against my hip, and I got the idea that he wants me to turn around. I would do that for him. I would do anything for him right now, if it means I can have more of his dick.
When I lay on my back, my thighs fall open for him, and he pushes into me again. His body is positioned over mine, elbows on either side of my head, and he pins me down. He pulls out and pushes back in, taking only a second before he picks up the pace and starts hammering into me again.
From this angle, it feels different, and my own orgasm subsides, too. We are starting almost from scratch. I don’t mind. We can do this for as long as he wants. All. Night. Long.
Kevin’s body is pressed against mine from the hips up, and my breasts mash against his chest. His face is close enough that I can kiss him when I lift my head. I do but he doesn’t kiss me for long–I doubt he can multitask as he is fucking me already.
He slows his pace right down, stroking slowly in and out of me, and I moan, long and low. The feeling is amazing, soft and sensual. I close my eyes and give myself over, getting lost in the feeling. The rocking feels more intense with my eyes closed because of the alcohol in my system.
It is amazing.