#SSceneC2015 : Cecilia London @authorclondon vs Kate Canterbary @kcanterbary #NSFW #Final16PotA

 “Hold on to me.” Jack pushed her up against the wall, his thumb circling around her clit as he kept two fingers inside her. “You like that?” He groaned when she clenched his hair in her fists. “I’m taking that as a yes.”

She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the wall. “How do you always know what to do to me?”

Jack kissed her collarbone. “I know you get off on the sound of my voice,” he whispered. “Everything else is dumb luck.”

Caroline gasped. How could he say that, knowing how she reacted to him? “This is much more than luck.”

“Are you saying I’m good at what I do?”

She gasped again as he quickened his movements. “So. Good.”

He wrapped his left arm around her waist, holding her up. “I have been waiting for this all damn day.”

Caroline buried her nose in his neck, whimpering quietly as he continued to stroke her.

“You’re close,” he said, after an unusually short amount of time. “I want to be inside you. For as long as possible. Do you want that, baby? Do you want me to fuck you right here against this wall?”

She arched against him, biting at his neck, clawing into his shoulders. He held her tighter, continuing to caress her gently as she came against his hand, calling out his name. He kept stroking her until her spasms subsided and she fell forward into his chest.

“Jerk,” she panted. “You know what it does to me when you talk to me like that.”

Jack wiped the perspiration from her brow. “Can you stand up?”

Caroline took a deep breath. “Not really. But that doesn’t mean I’m totally non-functioning.” She knelt down on the floor, running her hand along his thigh until she reached his zipper. She stroked his erection through the tailored material of his suit pants.

“I’ve been thinking about chocolate,” he said. “Can you tell?”

“The hell you have.” She unzipped his pants, making an executive decision to dispense with any blow job foreplay. He was already hard as a rock. No need to waste any time using her hands. Caroline took him in her mouth.

Jack tousled her hair. “You won’t need to do that for very long. Just until you can stand up straight again.” He groaned. “And I hope you can stand soon. Jesus.”

She looked up at him, then at his pocket, and snapped her fingers. He took the condom out and handed it to her. She drew back and tore the package open, squeezing his cock in her hand.

“Are you a mime now?” he asked.

She laughed. “How fortuitous you didn’t say that while you were in my mouth or you’d have a very unattractive bite mark on your favorite body part right now.” She rolled the condom onto his length. “Mimes don’t snap, Monty.”

He pulled her to her feet. “Good, because I expect you to make as much noise as you want. This part of the mansion is deserted for a reason.”

“We should try to maintain some propriety in here,” Caroline said. “Don’t you think?”

Jack pushed her against the wall, spread her legs apart with his knee, and thrust inside her. A slick, fluid motion without a hint of awkwardness or unease. Yes, the man knew what he was doing. He smiled when she cried out. “What the public doesn’t know won’t hurt them,” he said.

A valid statement. She wrapped her arms around him. “I love you, Jack.”

He stopped moving. “What was that?”

Caroline grinned. “I meant, oh Mr. Governor. Give it to me. Ooh baby. Harder.”

He laughed. “You little minx,” he said, thrusting inside her again.

She moaned as he plunged in and out of her. He started to breathe faster. She clung to his shoulders, panting with every move he made.

“I love the sound of your voice, sweetheart,” he said. “But sometimes your nonverbal communication is a hell of a lot better.”

Caroline leaned into his neck, her sweat mingling with his. “Faster, Jack,” she whispered. “Faster.”

He pushed into her so hard that she flew off the floor, her shoes coming off her feet. Jack held her steady against the wall, kicking her pumps aside so that she stood there in just her nylons. He moved inside her, his pace increasing. She could hear the fulfilling slap of his skin against hers, could feel the sweet bite of his zipper against her pussy as the warmth inside her began to build and he drove her to orgasm again. Caroline screamed his name as he exploded inside her. Or inside the condom, to be precise. How the hell was that sucker still intact? She collapsed around him, her knees weak.

He held her up and withdrew from her slowly. “I think the first lady needs to visit me in my office more often.”

I was halfway through blending the modified mudslides when Sam placed his hands on my hips, his palms circling over my clothes. There was a hot insistence in his touch, and he soon dipped beneath my dress and inside my leggings.

“Don’t move,” he ordered.

His body shifted, and he dropped to his knees behind me. True to his word, he peeled my leggings down, one aching inch at a time. His mouth moved over my exposed skin, kissing and licking, and when my clothes were bunched at my ankles, he pushed my legs apart. He drove his fingers inside me, stroking and thrumming my clit until I was bent over the countertop and begging.

And then Sam’s fingers were gone, abandoning me seconds before I came, and I was ready to scream.

Springing up, I rounded on him, my eyes as furious as I felt, and he just smiled. “That not go the way you wanted?”

“Rude!” I yelled. “Very rude!”

I was wet—not simply aroused—and I sensed my fluid coating my thighs. It was almost embarrassing, and I was somewhat convinced I’d find a puddle on the floor very soon.

“Maybe.” He grabbed a handful of my dress and yanked me against his chest. “You’ve had a rough night,” he said, and I nodded. “It’s going to get a little rougher.”

My default reaction to overwhelming situations was laughter, and when those words washed over me, I dissolved into giggles despite his dark, severe tone.

“Oh, Sunshine,” Sam hissed, slipping his fingers into my mouth. I tasted myself on him, and I wanted to be revolted but I was too fucking turned on to care. His eyes darkened as I sucked, his groan hoarse and exactly as desperate as I felt. “I am going to own you tonight.”

He pushed me against the refrigerator and freed me from my leggings and panties. Ducking under my dress, his tongue swirled over my clit and it only took a few well-placed licks to prime my body for explosion.

And once again, he stopped a minute too soon. Wailing, I beat my fists against the refrigerator. This was torture, and he knew it.

“Saaaaaaammm,” I moaned.

He offered a knowing grin and placed feathery kisses on my thighs and pelvic bone and just barely between my legs. “Do not doubt that I’ll gag you.”

“I’ll finish this myself,” I said, but the threat sounded whiny and petulant.

He chuckled, his warm breath tickling my leg, and he continued teasing. He didn’t believe me.

Unable to see past the screeching urge for release ringing through my body, I bunched my dress at my waist and brought my hand to my center. I’d barely grazed my clit when Sam’s hand curled around my wrist and pinned it to my side.

“Don’t you dare,” he said. He stood, leaning into me while I squirmed, angling for his hard length where I needed it. “I’ll make you come. Only me, and only when I’m ready.”

“You’re such a dick,” I yelled, burrowing into his shoulder.

“And you love it.” He dragged his scruffy chin across my chest, inflaming my nerves and drawing out a shiver that didn’t seem to stop. “How long should I make you wait?”

I shook my head, whimpering, “No more.”

“Should I fuck you right here?” Sam asked. He lifted my hands above my head and speared his hips against me, and the impact sent vibrations rippling through my body. “Or against the counter? Your ass looked fucking edible bent over like that.”

He traced the line of my arm, over my breast and belly, and brushed my folds. It was a delicate touch, like he was stroking something incomprehensibly fragile, and desire sparked in my veins until I was trembling.

It was an agonizing, throbbing need, but Sam didn’t stop. His body trapped me there, his chest flush with mine, his grip tight on my wrists, and I could feel the drumbeat of his heart pounding in time with mine. He whispered filthy things about how much he loved touching me and teasing me, and how he wanted my arousal dripping all over his wrist, and that my pussy belonged to him.

I hated hearing those words—my ladybits were my own, thank you—but I craved them, too. It was primal and animalistic, and if my hands were free, I would have closed my fist around his cock and said the exact same thing.

I took tremendous pride in belonging only to myself, but right now, with my body heaving in spectacularly painful need, I wanted to be Sam’s. He could claim my pussy, my orgasms, my everything.

“Do I need to restrain you?” he asked, and even the scrape of his teeth on my earlobe was too much stimulation.

“Sam,” I rasped. “Please.”

He released me, but I didn’t have long to miss the weight of his body. He led me into the bedroom, yanking the rest of my clothes off in the process. His were quick to follow, and then he was over me, his palm splayed between my breasts, pressing hard.

He pushed into me, slow and deliberate, and he kept me anchored in place while he stroked all the way in, his hips snug against mine, and then all the way out. I didn’t think it was possible for him to torture me any more than he had, but this—this was the most licentious torture imaginable.

Eventually, he shifted his hand down my body until the heel of his palm rested over my mound. When I edged up to meet his thrusts, that pressure sent hot, crackling snaps of electricity through me.

“Oh, fuck, Sam,” I cried, my shoulders digging into the mattress for more leverage.

“You want to come for me, sweetheart?” he asked, as if I’d been holding out on him. I made some hysterical, mewling sound and he smiled, nodding. His jaw locked, his strokes deepening, slamming into me as I arched my back.

I knew the minute he came because his face always took on the same expression of serene suffering, and he’d groan my name, low and gravelly, like a secret prayer. I let myself believe that moment belonged to me, that his body couldn’t possibly react that way to anyone else.

Just as I was pulled under by that warm, soothing orgasm, he ground his palm against me, and that wave morphed into a fucking tsunami. Every muscle twitched and sighed, the spasms rolling through me as if they’d never stop.