Beneath The Skin(101)

“No. Just you.” I open both my eyes and crane my neck around my own fingers, as if pulling my imaginary finger-and-eye camera out of the way. “If you want me to take your picture, you’re gonna need to obey the photographer.”

She presses her lips together, succumbing, then gently lifts a hand to her breast.

“Good.” I return to my position, squinting one-eyed through the rectangle of my fingers. “You’re doing a great job, babe.”

She tries to play off my compliment coolly, but I see the hint of a proud smile in her otherwise untelling lips.

“Hold still.”

I focus. I let the image of her burn into my memory, as if I really do hold a camera in my grasp.

Aim. Focus.

Flash.

I rise from the floor, step onto the stage, and stand by my model. She looks up at me, wordless, and her shimmering eyes say everything that the both of us are feeling. I take hold of her face gently, then bring my mouth to hers.

Explosions, red-hot and palpable.

A flavor that ignites every nerve in my body.

Her touch, waking the regions of my brain that scream I need this woman and I’m never letting her go again.

She clings to the buttons of my shirt, pulling gently, tugging here, tugging there, feeling blindly for her way in.

I help her by slowly undoing the buttons, not wanting to break from our kiss. Slowly the shirt releases me, slowly the material pulls out from my pants, and then it opens up, dropping off my back.

But it’s not enough; she wants more. Her fingers tug at my pants, undoing them. I let her have this one, bringing my hands to her face and caressing it as our mouths explore one another. It feels like the first time, like we’ve never truly touched.

It’s like we were, all these months, pressed up against each other’s bodies with some imaginary second skin in the way, never truly feeling one another, never quite knowing one another.

Something’s changed. Something in each of us has been freed.

And then my pants open, freeing something else.

After they drop to my ankles, I kick them off, and still Nell’s greedy fingers persist, hooking in the waistband of my boxer briefs. I feel her take her time, tracing the rim and teasing me.

My cock throbs in response, desperate to get out.

Our lips still locked, my hands run slowly down her body until they reach her breasts, cupping them. I feel her nipples harden under my fingers, exposed as they are to me. Nell responds with a deep moan, encouraging me as I massage her breasts with my big hands.

Her fingers slip inside. She wraps around my cock.

Now it’s my turn to moan.

Slowly, my boxer briefs slide down my skin, revealing the last part of me to her. Kicking them away, I feel the cool air of the room on every inch of my sensitive body. One hand on my cock, her other hand explores my hip and the side of my ass cheek where it dimples. She grabs a healthy handful of it, pulling me toward her with need.

All I want to do is answer that need.

I break from the kiss at long last, then run my hands down her smooth, soft body and lower to my knees. With her up on that stool, I slip my hands between her legs and pull them apart. As if by instinct, her fingers slide up my face and entangle themselves in my hair, ready to brace. Yeah, she knows what’s coming.

I move my face between her thighs and let out my tongue, raking it softly up her pussy. She trembles in response. Her fingers dig into my hair, which tells me I’m doing it right.

Painstakingly slow, I work her up, licking from bottom to top, lapping up every inch of her and earning every little moan she lets out.

The tighter she grips my hair, the tighter I grip her thighs.

Finally, I pull her clit into my mouth, sucking gently and slowly working her up into a state of insanity. I feel her thighs clench, squeezing my head between them. I fucking love the way she headlocks me with them, suffocating me with her unrivaled pleasure.

The moans grow louder. My cock grows harder. I can’t wait any longer; I have to have her now.

When I pull away from her, she moans with frustration, until she sees me grab my pants and fish a condom out of the pocket. Tearing off the wrapper, she watches me in surprise as I roll it down my length.

“You kept a condom in your tuxedo pants?” she asks, baffled.

I give her a look. “Have we met?”

And then I wrap my hands around the small of her back and lift her slightly off the stool, positioning her perfectly. Just the tip touches her. She squirms, desperate for me to enter her.

“I don’t think you’re ready for this,” I taunt her.

“Fuck me.”

I let just the tip inside. She quivers, her eyes rocking back.

“Definitely not ready.”

“Brant. Please. God.”

An inch slides in. I make sure to watch her face. I want to see every little twitch of her muscles. I want to notice every flit of her eyes. I want to capture each bite and pull and suck of her lips as I enter her.