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“Hey,” I said as I nudged Avis with my elbow. His arms were lazily wrapped around me in my bed as we laid on our sides, mimicking big spoon and little spoon. “Hey,” I said again when he made no movement.
“Hmm?” he responded through his sleep.
“Wake up,” I whispered. I turned in his hold so I could face him and see his sleepiness. For a second, I let the moment of his arms still around me, my naked breasts pressed into his chest, and my legs tangled with his wash over me. “Avis, wake up. I have to get ready for work.”
His dark eyes fluttered open, an insane level of happiness sparking there as he looked at me. “Good morning, Miel.” Our faces shared the same pillow and this closeness was new for me. Having a man sleep in my bed was new for me.
“Good morning,” I returned. He kissed me, no hesitation in his movements, as if kissing me was as natural as breathing. His hands pulled me closer, his body noticing our nakedness. I felt the length of his cock harden, almost causing my mouth to salivate in anticipation.
“How much time do I have to fuck you before you absolutely have to get out of this bed?” he asked as he turned his kiss toward my neck. My head hung back, giving him the access he desired. His lips smothered the sensitive spot near my ear and I reached for him, my hands finding their destination with ease since the target was hard to miss. “Tell me I have hours, Miel. Tell me I can fuck you for hours.”
His words were dirty and my pussy responded. Avis steered his mouth downward, stopping at my breasts. I lost my grip around his cock as he moved south, pulled out of my reach, but my body didn’t mind, especially as he pulled one of my nipples between his teeth and licked it.
I arched to him, my senses on overload. He held my breast in place to his mouth while he tweaked my other nipple with his free hand. With nothing else to grab, my hands found themselves gripping the sheet, holding on for dear life as this man sent me flying so close to the fucking edge of pure bliss.
“You can’t fuck me for hours. I have to be in the office at eight,” I finally told him.
He released the nipple he’d been pinching between his thumb and forefinger, only neglecting it for a second before his mouth took over. The change in sensation made me moan his name as my back arched for him again. I released the sheet and grabbed handfuls of his hair, surely causing pain to his scalp but it didn’t appear as he cared. Avis lightly brought his hand between my legs to find me wet for him before he sank a finger into my pussy.
“Ah,” I released, the sensations nearly overwhelming. His finger probed me until a second joined in. “Yes, fuck me for hours. Fuck. I want your cock for hours. Don’t stop.”
Avis slid down my body more; his face was so close to my pussy and my clit begged for attention. He changed his angle and position of his hand so that he could still pleasure me with it, but he leaned in and licked me. Hot fuck. This man. The edge was so close. My eyes clamped shut in sheer pleasure as my shoulders writhed on the mattress, squirming in undulating movements. Fucking fuck.
He stopped everything for a second. “What about work, Miel?” As soon as the question left his lips, his tongue plunged into my pussy and I quaked with pleasure.
I screamed out; his tongue inside of me was too much and he knew it. He withdrew, pulling a whimper from me. He stood up from the bed, carefully and gingerly stepping on his left foot. He reached for a bottle of water that set on the nearby nightstand and took a swig of it.
“What are you doing?” I asked him. My poor body heaved in desire, trembled in frustration. I raked my eyes over his naked body as he stood near the bed. Avis had a great body with a very realistic four-pack in his abs, a nicely defined chest, impressive biceps…my mind wandered to his workout regime, until all my energy focused on his big, hard cock.
“Giving you a minute to calm down,” he said with a wink. He absentmindedly reached for his hardness and stroked it. My eyes widened as I watched him, then he reached into the drawer of the nightstand to fish out a condom, picked up my phone and tossed it to me, and rejoined me on the bed. “Call work. Tell them you won’t be there today. Tell them that your boyfriend will be fucking you all day. You might even have to take tomorrow off, too. You probably won’t be able to walk.”
I froze as I reached for my phone. Did he just—“Boyfriend?”
He offered me a shrug. “I’d like to be your boyfriend. I know we haven’t talked about it, but yeah, I’m in. Unless you don’t want that.”
“That’s not something I’ve had the chance to think about,” I answered honestly. He tossed a look in my direction.
“Come on, Caroline,” he said. My name sounded like pure sex on his lips. “You seriously haven’t thought about it? You had to know we’d get there someday, right?”
“We’ve only had two dates,” I said. Why was I coming up with reasons to say no?
“Miel,” he replied. One word. That nickname for me. An entire sentence. “That’s a bullshit excuse.”
He was right, so right. Boyfriend, huh? I nodded. “Okay. Boyfriend. Let’s try this.”
He smiled, but then the light changed behind his eyes. “Great. Now, I’m giving you exactly thirty seconds to call work,” he said as he ripped open the condom. “After those thirty seconds, I’m going to start fucking my girlfriend and you’ll probably want to be off the phone when that happens.”
Fumbling with my phone, I managed to draft a text message to Shar. I really didn’t have to report to anyone about “calling out” per se, but I wanted to extend the courtesy to her. I hadn’t taken a day off in a long time, so I deserved this.
But, let it be known, it was distracting as hell to type up a text message while Avis lay beside me on the bed, on his back, naked as the day he was born, while he rolled a condom onto his hard, saluting cock.
“Times up, Miel,” he said as he rolled on top of me, plastering a kiss to my lips that stole my breath. I laughed, no other choice really.
“Wait, I still have to hit send,” I continued to laugh, my arms wrapped around his neck in a wide loop so I could still see the face of my phone.
“Ten seconds, Caroline, ten seconds. Then I’m fucking you,” Avis threatened me with the sweetest words I could imagine.
The Twelve Strippers of Christmas – Lulu M Sylvian
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Dagon’s body wanted her as much as she needed his. His arousal was hard against her lower belly. He had said he volunteered. Maybe her nodig was throwing pheromones that his body responded to. She didn’t care about that at this moment. At this moment she needed to feel and not think.
She sank her fingernails into the flesh of his shoulders. She felt, more than heard, the moan he made as it rumbled through his chest.
Deities, his hands! She had fantasized about all the hands, and now she knew why. He unfastened her clothing with one pair of hands and was still able to touch and grab her with the other. She wished she had more arms. She had to stop touching him to pull at the drawstring on his pants.
After loosening them, she shoved her hand down the front to cup his shaft. They both moaned at the contact. He was solid and hot. Somewhere in the back of her brain, St. Cyr registered that she had assumed his skin would feel cool to the touch because of his coloring. His skin was not cool, but burning, and felt like suede over marble. He was so hard under her fingers. Hard and thick.
She needed him, more touching, more mouth. She tripped and stumbled over her own pants around her knees as she pulled Dagon to her bunk. They fell in a tangle of limbs. His weight felt delectable on top of her as they continued to touch and taste each other.
She could no longer vocalize and only grunted and whimpered her frustration at how many clothes were still between them. Dagon, as eager as she was, extricated himself from her grasp only long enough to shuck his pants. He pulled her boots from her feet, peeled her pants the rest of the way off, and ripped her panties from her hips.
When he returned to her, she wrapped her legs around him. Driven by lust, fueled by the touch of his skin between her thighs. Dagon’s fingers bit into the flesh at her hips as he clutched her up to him. She countered the move and tightened her legs.
She screamed with pleasurable need as he drove into her. That was where her body longed for him to be, cock deep, hip to hip. They ground their lust into each other. The nodig wanted to consume Dagon. Mechs had nothing on a live male.
After the initial penetration, St. Cyr’s body tensed, preparing for a release. She moaned and cried out as Dagon serviced her with thrusts, groping hands, and a sucking, needy mouth. The nodig-sessu never allowed much thinking or finesse. The nodig was compulsive and carnal and basic.
St. Cyr could get tricky and show Dagon what she was capable of next time. Would he want a next time? Her brain dissolved into nerves again and thought abandoned her as the pressure built in her core. She saw stars behind her eyes. Her breathing was nothing more than pants and gulps for air.
She dug her fingers into Dagon’s back and let out a guttural scream as her body peaked and she convulsed around his plunging member. The orgasm continued to throb and strobe through her as he continued to grind into her.
Dagon pushed up on two arms. He stroked her face as he looked deep into her eyes. St. Cyr continued to come as he slowed and gentled his actions. But the expression on his face seemed to inspire her body into another wave of internal convulsions.
St. Cyr broke eye contact and cried out as more convulsions claimed her body. The nodig-driven orgasm would milk at her lover up to ten times longer than a typical one. She looked up at Dagon as he chuckled. He stopped moving and held himself to her.
“What?” she managed to whimper.
“I’m enjoying the ride, but I’m not going to last much longer. And you’ve been going nonstop.”
“The nodig-sessu,” St. Cyr moaned.
“The nodig-sessu,” Dagon repeated. He began to stroke into her. Her convulsions slowed and matched pace with his movements.
Dagon cried out as he reached his own release. The wet heat between her legs renewed St. Cyr’s urgent need. Dagon wrapped a leg around her and twisted, rolling St. Cyr into position above him, straddling his hips. “I can’t move. You have to take over.” He laughed with a sigh.
St. Cyr smiled down into his face. He was beautiful, his eyes hooded with his spent desire. His lips curved into a satisfied smile. She rocked against him from her perch. The nodig persisted to drive her, but not at such a frenzied pace. Dagon continued to stroke and pet and touch her as her body pulled on his cock inside of her.
Finally St. Cyr collapsed against his chest, her breath heaving with exertion. Her leg muscles cramped in uncomfortable spasms. She felt enveloped in care as Dagon wrapped his arms over her and held her. St. Cyr fell asleep cocooned in his arms.
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