#SSceneC2017 : Cecilia London Vs Erica Taylor @authorclondon @ericatayor

“I get incredibly turned on whenever you tell me how much you missed me,” she whispered. “May I show you how much I missed you?”“I guess so,” Jack murmured.She’d already distracted him. Good. Caroline unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it off and removing his undershirt. She kissed her way down his stomach to his lower abdomen. “Go sit on that chair.”“What?”“You heard me.” She smiled coyly at him. “You can leave your pants on. I’m quite industrious.”Jack stumbled over to the desk chair. “Seeing you off your game is kind of funny,” she said, straddling his lap.“This is not how I imagined this playing out. I thought-”“You thought correctly,” Caroline said. “We’re going to cover the ground rules.” Didn’t hurt to correlate this game with the one they’d played a couple of nights before. “First, you’re not going to hold back. Understand?”

Jack closed his eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, that’s a nice touch, Monty. I like that.”

“I was being gentlemanly.”

“Whatever. Second, I get to finish you any way I want. Is that okay?” she asked, pressing her hand against the growing bulge in his pants.

“Yes.”

Caroline kissed her way to his ear. “I’m going to give this to you. You can take it any way you want and not feel guilty about it. Is that clear?” She pulled back to look at him. “I love you, Jack. I would do anything for you, but right now I really want to do this.”

She slid off his lap and onto the floor, kneeling between his legs. Jack stroked her hair and she looked up at him.

“I love you, baby,” he said.

“I know.” Caroline unzipped him slowly, for emphasis. She pulled his cock out of his boxers and took him in her mouth.

He groaned, louder than she had anticipated. It didn’t take long for him to adjust, and soon his hands were fisting her hair, slowly pressing her toward him. She took him deeper, getting into a rhythm. She’d pull back slightly before pushing forward again, until he was almost entirely in her mouth.

“Jesus, Caroline,” he growled. “Keep going.”

Jack unconsciously tugged at her hair, and she closed her eyes. She’d maybe taken him this far once or twice, but he’d always stopped her before he got too deep. If she was going to finish this she had to pace herself. She pulled back, catching her breath as her husband untangled his fingers from her hair, heat in his eyes.

“You looked incredible just now,” he said.

Caroline licked her lips, stroking his length. Silky smooth and hard as a rock. His cock was beautiful. “You want me to keep going?”

Jack thrust into her hand. “Please, baby.”

She watched him move. He kept a steady tempo as she tightened her grip. Dear God, he was sexy. “Do it,” she whispered. “Do that to my throat.”

He caressed her hair, trailed his fingers until they reached her cheek. Pressed his thumb to her lips. His eyes hooded. His breath shallow. He stood up. “I want you like this. Stay on your knees, facing me.”

Caroline straightened up and placed her lips on his cock. His hands were at the back of her head again, fisting her hair. He pressed into her mouth and she didn’t stop him.

“Fuck,” he said. “Take it, baby. Take all of it.” He continued to push deeper, gently but with purpose. Caroline grabbed onto his pants, moving her hands around to his ass to encourage him further. Her eyes were watering and she wanted to choke but the look on his face kept her going.

Jack moved slowly, deliberately, cursing and grunting. He was trying to make it last and failing miserably.

“I love you, Caroline,” he groaned, and drove into her mouth a final time, spurting down her throat before collapsing onto the chair.

Jack rubbed his eyes. “That was unbelievable.” He zipped his pants and patted his lap. “Get up here now.”

Caroline scrambled up, hugging him tightly. “That was nice,” she said.

He chuckled. “You remain the queen of understatement.”

“My God, the way you reacted. I can’t even describe it.”

Jack kissed her deeply. “I can. Might be mostly grunts and boorish noises, but I can articulate it for you.”

“I bet you can.”

He traced his finger across her lips. “I’m not sure I’m the one in control in this weird sexual dynamic we have going.”

“I’m not sure I am, either. A couple of suckers, we are. Depraved, degenerate suckers.”

“You gonna let me reciprocate later?” he asked.

“Maybe. You gonna fuck me silly afterwards?”

Jack picked her up and headed toward the bed. “We’ll definitely get there.”

Her dark gaze was almost predatory, and he saw reflected in the depths of her eyes the same thing that raged through him all day. Lust, pure unadulterated lust.

Tilting up on her toes, she pressed a feather light kiss to his neck, under his jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin along his ear.

Without over thinking it, Andrew met her lips with his, kissing her deeply, tasting her, taking as much as she was giving, and she was apt to comply. Winding his fingers in her hair, he pulled the pins free, her pale golden tresses falling free like waves of light around her face, its texture smooth and soft. Andrew pulled his lips from hers, leaning back just a fraction to see her beautiful face and inviting eyes. His hands cradled her face and he ran his thumbs over her cheeks, the pads of her full lips.

With a possessive and rather feral growl, he recaptured her lips with his, claiming her need as his own. His arms wrapped around her, and he found the bench behind him, stumbling as he pulled her down with him. Her own passions were unsurprising, and he welcomed her onto his lap as she climbed atop him, her legs spreading to straddle him, her skirts soaking wet from the rain bunching around her hips. He was rock hard beneath her, straining against the fall of his trousers. Clara rocked her hips over his hard erection, pressing into her soft warm center he wanted to bury himself in. Her hands deftly undid his cravat and pulled the fabric from his neck before moving her fingers to the buttons of his waist coat, slipping each circle from its loop, her hands roaming over his chest as the layer was removed. It was not easy, as his garments were soaked through and unwilling to cooperate, stiff and sticking to his skin, and it took both their skill and laughter, to tug his arms loose.

“Your blouse is next to go,” he whispered against her mouth.

“I’ve about as many layers as you do,” she admitted, pressing her breasts to his chest as he fumbled with the loops and buttons at the neck of her blouse, loosening them enough for the garment to slip from her shoulders. His fingers pulled the laces from her stays, Clara’s hot mouth moving along his jaw, her hips grinding against his.

Running his hands down her back, her blouse falling around her as he pushed the fabric from her shoulders and arms, her breasts bared to him. Her nipples had hardened into little peaks in the cold, or in arousal, and Andrew bent to take one in his mouth. Nipping and sucking, he swirled his tongue around the little bud, Clara’s soft moans and gasps echoing off the stone walls of the turret. His mouth found her other nipple, and he bit down on it gently, enjoying the way Clara’s breath caught in her throat before turning into a soft moan of pleasure. He suckled, his tongue loving the peak, again and again, kneading her other breast, plump and heavy in his hand. Arching her back, her breast pressed further into his mouth, filling his hand as he fondled, his thumb flickering across her taut nipple.

“I need to touch you, Andrew,” she whispered in the wake of a moan. Her hands tugged on his shirt ends, freeing the fabric from where it was tucked into his trousers and pulled it over his head.

Greedily, her eyes roamed over him, her hands trailing down his chest and torso, the muscles in his chest tightening instinctively as her fingers passed over, leaving trails of spark and sensation as they went. Clara bent her head, licked his nipple before glancing up at him. Andrew nodded, and she did it again. Sparks of energy shot down to his erection, pulsing with need for her, to be buried deep in her depths. She wound her hands around his neck, pressing her breasts to his chest, skin on skin and it felt glorious. His hand found her under her mass of skirts, skidding a finger along her opening before slipping his finger inside. She was wet and waiting for him.

She broke off their kiss and buried her face into his neck, a soft moan escaping from her chest as he stroked her deep inside, faster and faster till he could feel her clenching around him in anticipation before she gasped and cried out his name. He quickly tried to undo the folds of his trousers, not even realizing he was trembling until her hand came over his and took the task over.

She kissed him soundly on the mouth, her hands unlacing the folds, taking him in her hand as he sprung free between them. She guided him to her warm opening, teasing the tip inside just enough to feel her moisture, and he groaned with pleasure. As she removed her hand, Clara slid herself onto him, slowly taking him into her, rocking her hips as she went. He watched the pleasure wash across her face, her mouth open as a moan passed across her lips, her head tiled back in abandon. Just watching her take her pleasure almost made him come.

In one quick movement, he lifted her into his arms, twisting to lay her down on the table behind them, thrusting into her as her heels came up to rest on the flat of the table.

Christ, Andrew thought but could not manage a verbal accolade, the angle of her pulling him deeper inside her. Aided by the height of the table, he thrust into her again and again and again, slowly at first but soon her breathless moans urged him on, her hips rocking with the him and with her own will. He held her hips, delving deeper into her with each rhythmic thrust. With each invasion came a little breathless moan from Clara as she lost herself in their lovemaking. He watched her find her release, her muscles clenching around him, pulsing with ecstasy. He came a moment later, the sight of her pleasure sending him over the edge, his last few thrusts sending his seed deep inside.

Andrew slumped against her, her arms wound around his neck, holding him close to her heart. He could feel her heart thumping against her ribcage, matched beat for beat by his own.

“What was this Clara?” he asked, hesitantly, worried his query would break the spell cast over the turret ruins. “What was today?”

Clara sighed softly. “I reminder, I think,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “Of what it felt like to be loved. A chance to trust it is all real.”

“It is real for me,” he whispered. Andrew wrapped an arm around her and rested his head atop hers, breathing in her lovely rosewater scent.

If today did not convince her that his feelings were true, he did not know what more he could do.