He groaned as I clenched my inner muscles again. “I have to have you.”
I heard the ziiip of his zipper, the slough of fabric. The crinkle of a condom wrapper. My fingers curled into fists. My legs shook as I waited. I’d had so few partners. And it had been such a long time since I’d enjoyed a climax that wasn’t produced from a battery operated device. I wanted this, God help me, I did. Wanted it more than I should.
Within seconds, I felt him, pushing his way past my sodden tissues, entering me slowly, inch by glorious inch. I stretched to accommodate his girth. He was big, very thick. Almost too big for me. It burned, but it wasn’t entirely bad.
He pushed my thighs wider apart, hands on the backs, pushing them out and up toward my shoulders so my spine was curled, hips lifted. The friction of his forward thrust nearly sent me over the brink. The added torture of his finger flicking lightly over my clit finished the job. A white hot blaze swept through my body, igniting every nerve, from the tip of my toes to the top of my head. I convulsed around him so hard it almost hurt. I cried out his name as he surged forward and back, thrusting hard into me, driving toward his own release.
My orgasm had barely faded when I felt his member swell as he climaxed. My body still vibrating from the effects of the first one, I tumbled into another orgasm. I jerked and writhed and screamed as he pounded mercilessly into me, driving every drop of come from his body.
And then, he bent over me and laid his head on my chest. His semi-flaccid member remained buried deep inside me. Little twitches and tingles accompanied the warm afterglow of that mind-blowing experience. I’d never come like that.
“You are exquisite,” he said a few minutes later. He straightened, but only after giving me a sweet kiss on the chin. He grasped the base of his cock, holding the used condom in place and pulled out. My first instinct was to clamp my legs closed and look away.
Yes, that had been the most intense sex of my life. But I was confused. I wanted to leave. Now.
I needed to think.
I just had kinky sex with Uncle Shane.
“You’ll come back next weekend.” After he put his clothes all in order, he released me.
“I’ll…I have to check my schedule.” I wasted no time reclaiming my clothing and getting myself zipped and buttoned back in. I had to get out of there. I was confused, hordes of emotions washing over me. Regret. Curiosity. Guilt. Anticipation.#p#分页标题#e#
“Will you stay a little longer?” he asked, moving toward me as I scurried for the door. He caught my wrist, stopping me. “You’re in such a hurry all of a sudden. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I blinked at him, catching a worried look in his eyes. “I’m fine,” I repeated. “Really. It’s just a lot to absorb all at once.”
He cupped my cheek with my free hand. “I understand. You call me when you’re ready.”
“Will do.”
He let me go.
Out I went. I rode the elevator alone, climbed into his car and buckled myself in while he locked up and rode the elevator down to the parking lot. Safe in his car, I watched him as he ambled over to the vehicle. He was such a handsome man. And his body, that body was absolutely incredible. And to top it all off, he knew exactly how to touch me, to kiss me, to hold me. On so many levels, we seemed to click. With the exception of one.
“What plans do you have for next weekend?” he asked as he steered the zoomy car out into traffic.
“I’m not sure.”
“I see.”
I made an attempt at small talk as he drove me home. I really did. But I failed. Thus, much of the drive was in silence. I let him kiss me goodbye in the car. Thankfully, it was just a small peck. Friendly but not overly intimate. Then I locked myself into my condo and had a good, long cry.
Three weeks later, that night with Shane still haunted me. He’d called me a few days later and left a message. He’d told me to return his call if I had an interest in seeing him again. I hadn’t called him back. Not because I didn’t want to see him again. I did. But because I didn’t want to want him so much.
Since that night all I’d dreamed about was him and his dungeon. I woke up every morning, body tight, blood simmering. Thoughts of him popped into my head all day long, at the oddest moments. I’d hear a man’s voice, and my heart would start galloping in my chest like a runaway race horse. I’d catch the scent of a man’s cologne, and my blood would start simmering. I’d spy a dark haired man in a crowd and my knees would turn soft.
Shane Trant had become an obsession. There was no way I could face him. Not yet. Not for a long time.
So I went about my life, doing the best I could to pretend everything was normal. I went to work. I went to the gym. I went grocery shopping and paid my bills and tried to tell myself I was happy.