The Beginning

He let his eyes travel from my heels to my face, stopping for a lengthy moment at the v-neck of my shirt. “The worst part is you aren’t trying, but you’re sexy as hell.”

I would like to say that I didn’t plan it, that I didn’t know what would happen, but I get told all of the time that I am a really bad liar. I knew exactly what I was doing and what would happen. I did it anyway. Gone are the days when I’d try and convince myself that there is something in the world that I am ‘being good’ for instead of just being who I am and letting myself feel good.

That first night he lost control and there was no reigning in the flood of his lust for me. I didn’t try and make it easy for him. “There’s just something about you.” We were surrounded by other male friends and my coworkers, and as he stared at my mostly exposed breasts and legs in my little black dress he announced that he would love to fuck me. He turned to one of the doctors that I worked with and asked him if he concurs, “Come on, man, if you weren’t married, would you not want to fuck her senseless?”

In the limo on the way home is where things truly got terrible. He sat next to me on the smallest section next to the door so that our bodies touched and I could do nothing to avoid feeling his heat. I didn’t mind. My dress sat high on my thighs and he whispered in my ear, his breath raising the hair on the back of my neck as he asked me what kind of panties I wore.

“Why don’t we play a game and see how far up we can get your dress to ride without anyone noticing,” was his next suggestion.

I let my hand play with the outline of his hard cock as everyone talked and no one paid any attention to the finer details of who was talking to whom.

He traced his long fingers along the barely covered outline of my pussy, wet from the deep rumble of his voice describing in detail every advantage he wanted to take of me. I watched the front of his pants grow tight and my body was begging for me to let him, it wanted me to fully submit and give in to every sensation that even the thought of being with him inspired. He grabbed my tits and ass when I climbed over him to get out of the limo door when we made a pit stop on the side of the road.

He had his hand on my thigh up underneath the hem of my dress, blocking the spectator view with his muscular frame. I let my hand play with the outline of his hard cock as everyone talked and no one paid any attention to the finer details of who was talking to whom.

“I would destroy you,” he told me, letting a kiss linger on my neck.

“And I would then beg you to put all of the pieces back together,” I replied. He glanced around to make sure everyone was half passed out or too into their drunken conversation to know which way was up or down. With each perusal his hand would slide further up my thigh until his fingers were inching their way around the fabric of my thong and teasing the entrance of my pussy, wet with anticipation.

It was only a few precious minutes that he spent kissing my neck, pretending to whisper in my ear. A façade intended to distract any stray eyes from the real excitement down below. He drove his fingers into my pussy, making my hand accidentally grip the hardness of his cock from outside his pants…he grunted and moaned in my ear as his fingers played my wet velvet like a beloved instrument. I lived in endless ecstasy masquerading in barely 15 minutes.

Every day following was a game. I played as hard to get as I dared, considering he already had a taste and only wanted more.

I fought my desire for him every day. I spent every night twisting in bed as I pictured being down on my knees in front of him sucking his cock before climbing on top and riding him as he held on to my bouncing tits. He tried to get me alone every day, he tried to make plans for us to ‘hang out’, but I would remind him that we couldn’t. “She’s my best friend and I love her, and I could never do that to her no matter how much I want you. You’re her fiancé.

But it fell apart when it came to planning her birthday party, “You have to help me plan it, you’re her best friend and I am useless at this crap.” So we decided to go out for dinner and plan her party. He picked me up at my house, and I was shaking as I walked down the front porch toward his truck. “Why do you have to be so sexy?” He asked me.

“I live to torture.”

“Oh my God.” He let his eyes travel from my heels to my face, stopping for a lengthy moment at the v-neck of my shirt. “The worst part is you aren’t trying, but you’re sexy as hell.”

We only made it to the parking lot. The restaurant was a mere 10 minutes from my house, but our conversation was engrossing, and I couldn’t help but bat my eyes and turn everything being said into innuendo. He put his truck into park, looked at me, and said, “I don’t want to go inside. Really. I want to drive to the nearest hotel and just never leave, because I know that I’ll never be able to stop with you. I’ll never want to.”

His hand was on my thigh and I was tired of trying. I slid over to him and put my mouth on his, relishing in the bestial moan of untamed desire that filled us both. He pulled me into his lap and I ground my pelvis against his, eliciting another muffled moan. My lips and tongue traced his jaw and throat before returning to his mouth. He pushed me off of him, and I was confused only until he knelt me on the seat and pulled my skirt down to my knees. I couldn’t stop the sounds coming from my mouth when he pulled my thong to the side and buried his face in my pussy for the first time.

I clenched my fists and pushed myself more firmly against his face. My entire body was screaming for him, my mind aware that it was all so wrong, but it was too goddamn late. He pushed two fingers inside of my pussy as his tongue traveled to my ass and I could barely hold myself up on my hands and knees. “Please,” I begged, “just, please.” Shivers ran through my body as I threw my head back and nearly jumped out of my skin. I had to look a second time to be sure, but there was no mistaking it. “Stop, stop, you have to stop, we have to go.” I was pushing his face away from me and pulling up my skirt.

“What the fuck? What’s the matter?” He tried to pull me back to him as I slid to the other side of the truck.

“There’s people in the car next to us watching the show, we really should go.”

“They might learn something.”

“Please?” We both laughed then, as just seconds ago I was pleading with him for an entirely different reason. It broke the tension and he started his truck and pulled away from the restaurant. It was a silent few minutes before I broke it. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I made you stop. It kind of brought the whole night to an end.” He only shook his head and smiled,

“Darlin’ this was only the beginning.”

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Comments

One Response to “The Beginning”

  1. Gene Hayes says:

    Even as she’d sat in his red leather office chair and teased him, he kept flexing, moving, and rotating, and the sight of his athletic body moving in such a manner was almost more than Bella could handle. When she watched her hand lift to his mouth, Bella sucked on her own fingers to recreate the feeling. Knowing that she had less than a minute until Carlisle came caused her to return her hand to her pussy and increase the intensity of her movements, wanting to come at the same time Carlisle would on the screen.

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