| Subject: Chaper 288 - Part 3 (18 and above) |
Author:
KatherineG.
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Date Posted: Monday, April 30, 11:12:16am
In reply to:
KatherineG.
's message, "Dreams in the Dark continued (273>)" on Monday, March 05, 07:03:06am
He barely cared about her opinions of him now, had caught her self-doubt too clearly in her eyes; it brought back all the old fire once more. His shirt was left wide open, his hands quickly parting his belt. He had actually left off the undershirt which was an expected part of his uniform just for her, with the dream of feeling her hands on him again; they were still touching him willingly, her eyes so giving--making him wild. A moment later, his pants were open, all clothing pushed down just enough to be out of their way. And then he let her see the part of him which had been so very desperate for her touch.
She was all-too-willing to fulfill this fantasy for him now, her pleased gasp on seeing him again impossible to contain. Her hand reached out, longing to feel him against her skin--her whole body thrumming to an inner heat which begged for every inch pressed deep inside her tender walls. It had just been far too long. In all those months apart, she had begun to wonder whether she had dreamed him up, whether she were remembering him only as she wished to; her widened gaze couldn't look away, that firm, beautiful cock bobbing for her alone. But now she knew, the moan so deep. He was even better than she had remembered before.
Jesus. He saw the impassioned look in her eyes, saw her reaching for him, and had to stop her--despite his fantasies--his groan nearly a growl. He was just too wild, had wanted her for too damn long. If he let her touch him in any way before he was inside her, there would be no pleasure for her; his look grew feral, savoring. And, however brief this encounter might have to be, he had every intention of making her enjoy it.
This wouldn't be a difficult goal, Nikita utterly desperate for him. Still, she let out a gasp, when he moved her, holding up both her arms beside her head, pushing her back against the wall. She landed softly against a large robe which was hung on a hook above her; it was actually Susan's, the hook probably placed so high as a simple annoyance to the other girl. But the actress had no part of her mind which could really ponder such minutia now.
It was simply impossible to think of anything except her husband, of her utter desire for him--his voice low and husky with need. "It's been too long, 'Kita. I've missed you too much." He let her wrists go, hands traveling down her tingling body--touching reverently over her ample abdomen before finding her hips. He soon had her back pressed hard against the wall, his hands supporting much of the weight of her lower half, as he tilted her hips toward him. And that was when she knew that she was going to get everything she had dreamed of for so very long.
It was when she felt the thick head of his cock brush lightly against the sensitized petals of her depths that she let out a cry--her hands braced hard against his shoulders. As she opened eyes she hadn't realized she had closed, their gazes locked absolutely, his voice washing over her heatedly. "I have to remember why I'm still alive."
It was then that it happened--that broad head caressing the outer, honeyed petals of where she was most vulnerable for several long seconds, before he finally pushed inside her. She felt that tight mouth of her opening wide to his breadth, the gasp of need she gave met by his echoing groan--both of them caught there utterly. Just this was almost too much, stoked the long-neglected need deep within her far too heavily. When she closed her eyes, head back against the wall to groan, lost only to how good he felt inside her, she heard him utter a groaning, "I'm sorry." But she had no idea just how amazing this moment was about to become.
She learned in the next instant, letting out a much deeper gasp--nearly a scream--as he pulled back marginally only to then give her what she really wanted, the majority of that long, sweet cock shoved deep inside her walls. Just the newness of the sensation made her writhe, her husband usually much more tender with her. But neither of them cared about anything but this, just now.
It was too good, nearly too much. She couldn't even think, could barely breathe, her whole body arching--one hand grasping the hook above her, the other on his shoulder--feeling filled and adored. She couldn't have described it at all. There was just no way to understand how she had managed to live for three months without him inside her.
God, yes. He was already threatening her sanity--the moment almost too good to withstand. His shaft felt huge, spread her slick, taut depths wide around his breadth, making her arch and groan for more--so thankful that he hadn't gone slowly; her entire body was shuddering for it, utterly unaware of the awkward position he had her in to avoid pressing against her pregnancy too heavily. All she could think about was how much she had missed him, how incredibly good he felt. Oh, God. It was just too much. "Mi- . . ."
It was the furthest she was allowed to get, her husband absolutely insane; his gaze finally returned to hers, the look there piercing, maddened. "Don't say anything, 'Kita." His entire body shivered, breathing highly imperiled. His eyes only darkened, hand moving to cover her mouth, when she opened it--seeming about to ignore his warning; his look grew even more heated, voice shaky. "If you say a single word, I'll come." Just at her soft nod, his whole body shuddered--nearly lost completely to her sweet trust for him. Dear Christ. His eyes closed. If he managed to survive . . .
This wasn't a wholly certain fact just now, his whole soul and body captivated utterly by both her and the moment. He leaned in, still shaking, pressing her now-ample form between them, to put his slightly-stubbled cheek against her soft one--one hand a fist against the wall. He had just forgotten how damn good this could feel, had been certain that his memories were simple self-delusion. Yes, he had always been certain that she was an amazing lover, but it hadn't seemed real that she was as good as he remembered; he let out a soft groan against her, his hand on her hip holding her tight, hoping to survive. But it was just too much. The fact that she was even better than his fantasies seemed quite likely to undo him now.
He was fighting against this possibility, desperately wanted to hold on for her. After all, they only had about a day together. Even if he didn't let her sleep at all, it wasn't enough time. He had always dreamed of being the one lover she would ever fantasize about. But now . . .
He was absolutely overcome, was doing everything he could to pull himself back together. Still, he had *never* felt this way before. Even his first time at 16 hadn't seen him in *this* kind of disarray; the groan he let out echoed slightly, wasn't aided at all by the slight shudder of need his wife gave. And he also wasn't helped in the least by the fact that it had been three months for her as well, Nikita's body so sweet and tight from the neglect, clasping around every inch of his length as though she had been made just for him--even better than he had remembered; he closed his eyes tightly, his head resting on her shoulder. How he was supposed to survive this pleasure and still give her at least some of the joy she deserved, he had no idea; another shudder wracked him. But it was absolutely imperative that he try.
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