21 Aug '15

#SSceneC2015 : Julianna Keyes @JuliannaKeyes vs Jeffe Kennedy @jeffekennedy

Posted in Sex Scene 2015 / 1 Comment

cooltext129748819578231Time Served – Julianna Keyes

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I pass the men’s bathroom and pause in front of a door stamped with a little pink cow, then squint at a third door a few feet past it. I check over my shoulder to confirm that I’m alone before twisting the handle of the mystery door. It swings open to reveal a cramped supply closet. If there’s a light I can’t find it, but in the nearly nonexistent glow from the hallway I can see that it’s lined on three sides with shelves of paper towels and cleaning supplies.

A big hand splays itself across my back and shoves me inside, then Dean stalks in after me, shutting the door and enclosing us in darkness. I feel his fingers wrap around my neck, holding me in place as he slants those soft lips over mine, sliding his tongue into my mouth, hard and seeking. I don’t waste time with pleasantries, dipping a hand into his sweats and finding his cock through his boxers, already impressively stiff. I reach through the slit in the fabric and wrap my hand around his length, jerking him roughly, feeling him swell against my palm. His tormented growl makes me wet, and I fumble with my free hand to lift my dress over my hips.

Dean turns us so my back is to the door, then drops his hand between my legs, finding my panties and forcing them down. I step out of the scrap of silk and lift a leg over his hip, whimpering when the searing tip of his cock slides over my damp folds.

“Condom,” he grunts, pulling away for a second. I hear a package tear, a pause as he rolls it on, then he’s at me again, pushing inside without prelude.

My breath catches as tender tissues part, and when he squeezes my breast with one rough hand, I realize this is very much like our first night together, up against the door in his apartment. And then I realize that even though the positioning is similar, nothing else is: I trust Dean. I’m a lawyer who trusts the ex-convict who’s fucking her in a restaurant supply closet. I don’t know what this says about my mental state, but it turns me on even more.

Dean’s breath rasps in and out as he pounds into me, almost brutally. He cups my ass in both big hands, holding me away from the door, tilting my hips for deeper penetration and absorbing the blows so my tailbone doesn’t bruise. He’s going too fast to get me off, but I don’t mind. He’s taking what he wants for once, and I’m surprised by just how much it turns me on to let him, knowing it’s just for a little while. That I can trust him to return the favor, with interest. That I can trust him, period.

After a couple of minutes I hear him groan low in his throat, the sound he makes when he’s close. “Come on, Dean,” I murmur. “Let me feel it.”

He frees one hand to stroke my face, holding my head as he kisses me, then swears softly as he comes, jerking into me three, four times with his release. With our chests pressed together like this, I can feel his heart pounding against mine, thudding against my ribs like an out-of-control stallion. “Okay,” he mutters, pulling out. “Okay. Your turn.”

I can’t see him but I feel him drop to his knees in front of me, and more than anything I wish I could turn on the lights and watch this big man kneel at my feet and bury his face between my legs. Dean parts his lips and sucks me into his mouth, making my knees buckle. I stifle a cry and balance my hands on his shoulders as he strokes up the back of my thighs, helping me stand.

He plunges his tongue deep inside, again and again, the wettest, most thorough tongue-fuck of my life. His thumbs reach around to pull me open, exposing my clit to his lips and teeth, dragging out an orgasm I’m all too happy to surrender. I clamp a hand over my mouth as I come, hearing Dean’s satisfied groan as he eats me, then the soft sound of him swallowing my release.

“Oh God,” I moan as the pleasure abates. “Jesus.”

Dean stands and tugs my dress down. I feel his elbow brush my chest as he lifts a hand to wipe his mouth, laughing quietly. “I’ve got your panties,” he says. “You good to go?”

Ha. Hardly. But I nod, though he can’t see it, and say that I am. Dean returns to the table as I duck into the bathroom. Looking in the mirror I expect to see tousled hair, swollen lips and guilty eyes. Instead all I see is myself, work-appropriate dress, smooth chignon, flushed cheeks. Nothing that says “Just fucked.”

cooltext129750505189949Under Contract – Jeffe Kennedy

 Author Links : WebsiteTwitter
Free on : Amazon | B&N

Without breaking the kiss, he slid his hands to bracket her narrow waist and helped her to her feet. She swayed in his arms—no surprise, as long as he’d kept her kneeling like that—and he steadied her, then walked her backward toward the rug immediately in front of the fire.

He indulged in running his hands over her, tracing her rounded curves, her skin velvety to touch here, slick and sticky there, so available to him with her hands bound like that. She panted into his mouth, her kisses growing more frantic, pressing her nipples against him, their soreness clearly forgotten in the pitch of her desire. All for him. Heady stuff.

“Lie down,” he muttered, urging her with his hands, forgetting in his own extremity to make her obey, just needing her to do so. She went more than willingly, stretching out on her back on the dark fur rug, her skin gleaming as golden as some exotic animal.

One he’d captured and temporarily confined, but wild still, proud and untamed in the dark demand of her eyes. With hunger, she watched him strip off his clothes, rocking her hips against the golden chain that gleamed so enticingly in the folds of her swollen sex.

Falling on her, he pushed her knees wide and back, fastening his mouth on her distended clit without giving her warning. She cried out, a wordless sound of joy and agony, so on edge she came immediately, her fluids flowing salty into his mouth.

Perfect that she’d gotten there already, without time to overthink it. Easier to keep her there now. Without relenting, he kept up the pressure, driving her up again, holding her hips down as she thrashed against him. She screamed, much as she had when he’d strapped her, going rigid and then shattering into a series of convulsions. Darkly pleased, he thrust two fingers into her tight, hot channel, curling them up and sucking hard on her clit, not letting her come down from it or think too hard.

She pistoned herself on his fingers, crying his name. Not “Master,” but “Ryan”—something that grabbed at his heart with unexpected, even blinding pleasure. Him. He brought her to this. His cock was ready as before, swelling with his ego. Some men never figured this out, the ones who easily attracted a woman, but then missed the concept of pleasuring her enough to keep her. Money made up for poor looks, but pleasing a woman in bed captured her affection more surely than anything.

He pushed the chains aside to flank the outsides of her labia, making her struggle anew as they scraped over her sensitized tissues. Managing to roll on a condom, he positioned himself at her hungry entrance, bracing himself on his elbows over her, to find her mouth waiting for his. She arched her back, body begging for the penetration even as her lips pulled at his, pleading moans coming from deep in her throat.

He thrust into her, going momentarily blind with the searing sensation, both at the tight clasp of her body, like liquid fire, and her shuddering response. She wrenched her mouth away, gasping his name. And he answered, reverentially, “Celestina.”

Without calculation now, without much control at all, he stroked in and out of her, overcome by the slick velvet of her skin against his, her lush breasts crushed against his chest and the occasional bright grind of the chains she wore. His chains. All for him. She gave herself totally to him as no one ever had, never so profoundly, so utterly without reserve. He took it all, demanding more with every thrust.

Her body gathered in tension, moving urgently, and she sobbed with rising need. He held off as best he could, increasing his rhythm, stroking deep until she suddenly shattered, coming apart in a flurry, like a firelog collapsing in a shower of sparks. With her sweet cries filling his ears, he let go of all control and flung himself after, burying himself in her and releasing everything he had to her keeping.

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