#SSceneC2017 : Final 16 : Eve Dangerfield vs S.A. McAuley @Eve_Dangerfield @AuthorSAMcAuley

In bed with this big stranger, Kate gave herself permission to pretend. She teased Rugby Boy and imagined him growing frustrated enough to force her to comply with his demands, to lay her across his lap and blister her backside. She was so lost in her fantasy that when a heavy hand descended on her head she yelped.

“Enough,” a rasping voice said. “Suck it.”

Kate frowned. “What?”

“Happy to play with it, weren’t you? Well, my dick’s not a toy. You’ve wound me up, now it’s time to finish what you started.”

He pulled his t-shirt over his head, exposing a ridiculously defined chest, then yanked down his briefs. His cock slapped down onto his bare stomach, as thick as Thor’s hammer. “Put your mouth on it.”

Kate body thrummed with nerves. Was this really happening? Was she finally in bed with a man who could give her what she wanted? She edged forward, brushing her mouth across his shaft, testing him. His palm became a fist in her hair. “I told you, we’re done playing. Wrap your hand around my cock.”

A shiver went down Kate’s spine. She cupped the base of his shaft. “Like this?”

“Harder. Tight as those little fingers can go.”

Kate complied, knowing she probably couldn’t hurt him without a utensil in her hand.

“Very nice.” Rugby Boy’s said in a rasping tone. “Now, put your lips around me, I need to come.”

She shivered. It was hard to tell if he was playing her game or just being a dick, but she decided she didn’t care. It felt real and that was all that mattered. She opened her mouth and leaned down to start sucking when Rugby Boy put a big palm in her face.

Kate paused. “You don’t want me to anymore?”

Her nameless lover lay there, breathing hard, his cock throbbing in her hand. Even in the darkness, she could see a pearly drop was welling at the tip. She bent around his hand and sucked it away. He hissed like a cut snake. “Fuck it.”

His rough hand cupped her cheek and urged her mouth onto his cock. Kate swallowed as much as she could.

Oh, Rugby Guy’s penis, she thought, sucking hard. I’m sure you have an illustrious career of making women happy in front of you, but tonight, please let it be my turn.

“Deeper,” he growled. “More.”

She slicked him down with her tongue and, inhaling deeply, tried to take him deeper. He was so large she was practically unhinging her jaw.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl.” Rugby Boy sounded tense, almost pissed off.

Kate thrilled that the way a normal girl might thrill over gentle kisses. She began to experiment with her grip, using both hands and her mouth. Her mind, as it sometimes did in these moments, wandered to Tyler Henderson. She didn’t know if any real dominant tendencies lay behind his commanding attitude, but the idea that they might did stuff to her. Whenever she was struggling to finish herself, she slotted him into her fantasies and she was there within seconds. Unable to help herself, she did it now.
“You horny little slut,” she imagined him saying as he thrust into her throat. “You like imagining me fucking your needy little pussy? This is what you deserve.”

Kate moaned, the razor blade of wrongness grating oh-so-pleasurably against the whetstone of her arousal. She felt kind of bad for pretending Rugby Boy was someone else, but who was to say he wasn’t picturing the Hadid sisters or something? She moved her mouth and hands even faster, needing him to finish, needing to be a good girl.

Rugby Boy’s fist tightened in her hair. “You like suckin’ dick, huh?”

Kate confirmed her liking-ness with a moan.

“Tell me you like it. Say my name.”

Uh oh.

Kate sucked deeper, hoping to override the question with sheer blowjob excellence, but Rugby Boy pulled on her hair so that she released him with a ‘pop.’ “Is something wrong?” she asked.

“You tell me you like it, right now and you say my name while you do it.”

Oh geez. Kate began flipping through a mental Rolodex of possible names. Sean was a common name. Statistically, there was a good chance he was called Sean. Should she call him Sean? No, she shouldn’t call him Sean. Maybe she could give him a cute epithet instead. ‘I like sucking your cock, babe.’

No, not babe. ‘Handsome,’ or ‘sexy’ didn’t seem right either. But what the hell did that leave? High Commissioner? Lord and Saviour? Mine Führer?

“I’m waiting,” he snarled.

As panic rose in her gut it occurred to Kate that this was a one-night stand; she could call Rugby Boy what she always wanted to call men she was in bed with. It might freak him out, but she wasn’t going to see him again. She smiled up at what she assumed was his face. “I like sucking your cock, Daddy.”

Isaac lingered, taking his time with Poe—touching, licking, tasting. Teasing. Poe curled his fingers into Isaac’s hair and gently pulled, silently begging for Isaac’s lips to envelop him completely. Isaac laughed, low and throaty, and licked at the base of Poe’s cock, then swirled his tongue up and around the head. Poe arched into the touch without thought, pushing himself deeper into Isaac’s mouth.

This feeling wasn’t new—getting lost in the hot, wet heat of another man’s mouth—but somehow it was more. So much more since it was Isaac pulling those needy moans from his throat, Isaac wrapping his hand around the base of his cock and spurring him forward, careening him toward that edge with abandon. Isaac stilled Poe with a hand to Poe’s hip, fingers digging into Poe’s skin, teeth catching on the head of his cock, alighting every nerve in Poe’s body until all he could think about was Isaac.

Poe was already oversensitive, his hole stretched from Isaac driving inside him only moments ago. But he didn’t want Isaac to stop or ease up on him. He needed to be taken by Isaac over and over again until every memory of every other man was wiped away into a long-forgotten haze, more dream than reality. He stifled a cry as Isaac took him deep and swallowed around his shaft, Isaac’s throat vibrating with moans of pleasure.

Isaac slipped a lubed finger into Poe’s ass and pumped it slowly in time with the movement of his lips and tongue. Poe surrendered to the moment, to the languid swipes of Isaac’s tongue on his cock. Isaac was torturing him. Knowing that the slowness with which he fucked Poe’s ass and tentatively bobbed his head along Poe’s length would drive him mad.

Isaac sucked Poe in deep, hard, and found that spot inside him that blackened his vision and stole his breath, catapulting him to the edge, then Isaac withdrew completely, leaving Poe a writhing mess on the rumpled sheets.

“Fuck, Isaac. I need more. Please. More,” Poe begged, his grasp on Isaac’s head pulling his lover back to his aching cock.

More. He needed so much more. More heat, more friction. More of Isaac’s touch. More reassurance. It was only in these moments—so intimate, so overwhelming—that Poe could believe Isaac’s return to him was real.

Isaac swallowed him down to the hilt and Poe arched off the bed, unable to hold back the oaths of worship that fell from his lips. Isaac was everywhere around and in him all at once—his scent, his skin, his breath—and Poe was wholly alive. Free and yet owned completely. Loved.

He was consumed by Isaac’s touch. A willing slave to Isaac’s command. Isaac sped his pace, added another finger, sinking them deep into Poe’s ass until Poe could no longer restrain the bucking of his hips. He was so close, a scorching fire racing through his veins, a burn that only Isaac could stoke to uncontrollable heights. He was breaking apart, deconstructed with Isaac’s hands, with his mouth. With Isaac’s reverence of his body. There was no way to fight the assault and he didn’t want to. He craved this loss of control and trusted Isaac to shatter him then bring him back from the brink. He knew Isaac would have the power to pick up those pieces and resurrect him into something stronger.

Poe chased the contrasting sensations of Isaac’s fingers and tongue, Isaac’s hand on his hip branding him with pain and possession. He was Isaac’s. His. How could he have ever doubted that?

Poe cried out Isaac’s name and let himself go, spilling into Isaac’s mouth, his hands gripped firmly in Isaac’s hair, his body wracked with the intensity of the release. Isaac didn’t pull away until Poe was still again, his body sated and mind wiped clean of everything except the man entwining his fingers with Poe’s as Isaac slumped onto the bed next to him.