Protect & Serve(120)

When the door flung open I felt like I was in a hotel suite. The bed was custom and over-sized. It sat up on risers and was surrounded by high wooden posts. There was a fireplace and a glass-enclosed shower that looked out over the woods behind the house.

“Wow!” I must have sounded like a little kid to him. “It’s so big!”

He tossed me on the bed and whipped his shirt off. “How do you know how big it is? You haven’t even seen it.”

When I rolled my eyes at his corny joke he leapt at me like a tiger. I threw my arms up to brace myself. The way he landed on the bed bounced me high enough for him to deftly slide underneath. He cradled me and pushed his nose lightly against my neck.

“Luke, how many girls do bring up here?” I asked. He let me hold him back.

“What happened babe? Suddenly feeling not so sure of yourself? Last I checked you’re the one who wanted to skip dinner,” he said, flashing a devilish grin.

“No… I just don’t want to be another notch on the bedpost...”

“I guess you aren’t as good of a judge of character as you think you are then.” He said it with a bit of anger, not the bemused flippant way I was used to from him.

“So your saying you don’t get with all those girls that come into your gym? I’m okay with it Luke, but I don’t like being lied to.”

“I’m a one relationship kind of guy, sweetheart. And when I find someone that fits, I go after her with everything I have.”

He slipped his hands under my hips and pushed his thumbs inside the band of my underwear. “And I think you fit.”

I slid to the right, pulling my knee up so he could settle between my legs. Unable to hold out any longer, I grabbed a fistful of his thick hair and pulled his face to mine.

Our tongues flicked excitedly against each other. I ran my hands from his collarbone down to his squared pecs. I could nearly trace them from one side to the other.

His hands found the soft curves of my upper hips and squeezed. He knew how to man-handle me without making it hurt.

“Oh Luke,” I whispered into his ear.

He moved away from my mouth and down my neck, letting his lips linger lightly at the crease by my shoulder. I wanted to feel every inch of him inside me and the teasing was becoming unbearable.

My wet folds quivered in anticipation of him entering. Luke sat back on his knees, resting his butt on his heels.

“Slide your skirt down just a little bit,” he instructed. “But do it slow.”

I scrunched my nose and narrowed my eyes. He wanted me to push me out of my comfort zone.

“Like this,” I offered, slowly shimmying my hips, letting the friction from the bed tug my skirt down a couple of inches.

“Just like that,” he whispered. “Don’t be self-conscious.”

I bit my lip as I dropped it a bit lower. The wet spot on my underwear peaked above the waistband of my skirt and a flood of warmth hit my body like a wave.

“Pull my stocking off,” I said.

He held me at the ankle then slowly moved his hands up the length of my leg. When he grabbed the top of my stocking the back of his wrist brushed my aching lips.

“Like this?” he asked.

I nodded, helplessly.

He pulled slowly, exposing my bare leg. When it slipped off the ends of my toes I placed my foot flat against his muscular thigh. I could feel his throbbing bulge pulsing just below.

It was like we were playing a game of chicken and neither of us wanted to break first.

His heavy breathing made his abs contract in the most inviting way. There wasn’t an ounce of body fat on him. He could have been mistaken for a statue in the right circumstances

Without even realizing it, I had worked my skirt down to my knees.

“Now the shirt,” he demanded. “One button at a time.”

My hands followed his direction like it was under hypnosis.

“No start from the bottom,” he said. “Go up slowly, and leave the top one.”

I repositioned myself on bent elbows and started working at my top. It was simply made item and the buttons pulled loose easily. At the top, I let my fingers play at the last one.

“Leave it,” he said breathlessly.

I could see he was nearing his breaking point. My breast held tightly together, ready to burst forth if not for the strength of that last button. My nipples poked out above my bra and made perfect little bumps in the light blue material of the shirt.

He wore tight-fitting boxer briefs which outlined the length of his package. His size was breathtaking, if not a little worrisome. I waited for it to come jutting from the space in the front of his shorts.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he growled.

“Yes,” I uttered.

“Then ask me.”