Isa eyes my feet. ‘Green? In winter? Why not red like everyone?’ She’s pissed. I grin. ‘Prairie green. Makes me happy painting my toes. Feels like spring grass. My secret joy. No one sees. But Denis will. Maybe he’ll suck them.’ She cringes. ‘TMI! Don’t need details on your kinks.’ I shrug. ‘He’s electric. His voice zaps me. In his arms, I lose it. Be happy for me.’ Doorbell rings. Heart races. Days without him. Exams, rugby, flute practice. Craving our park fuck replay.
Sunday, March. Denis at Isa’s door. Unannounced. Not alone. Philippe. New Year’s flirt. Shit. We competed—Aurélie and me—for him. I won with cleavage and stares. No follow-up. Awkward as fuck. He knows? Isa saves: ‘Philippe! You know Sabine?’ He smiles. ‘Climbed stairs together. Kissing you bye, Isa. Hi Sabine.’ Colors return. ‘Meet my boyfriend, Denis.’ Angel passes. Denis locks eyes. Steps up. Kisses me hard. Tongues clash. Legs weak. I flop in chair. Pussy tingles. Forbidden spark—old flirt watching.
The Awakening: Teasing Anticipation and Surprise Heat
Pizza and The Big Blue later. Chill vibes. But tension simmers. Need to reclaim him. Tuesday plan: post-training massage. No groupie cheers. I crave his muscles. Tight jeans, low V-neck cashmere flashing lace bra. Heels to close height gap—5’4 vs 6’8. Hair up with grandma’s ivory sticks. Bag: cinnamon candle, musky oil.
Door opens. He lifts me. Pins to wall. Mouth devours. Legs wrap waist. Bag drops. Arms cling neck. Hips grind. Feel his cock harden through clothes. ‘Want you so bad. Take me to bed. Fuck all night.’ Over shoulder to room. Punch his back—useless. Laughs. Drops gentle on king bed. Lies back, arms behind head. Silent power. Square jaw, blue eyes piercing. Cocky smile.
Surprise time. Light candle. Kill lights. Lenny Kravitz hums. Strip slow—pull off, heels gone. Straddle in jeans, lace bra. Oil vial ready. He gets it. Lets me play. Peel shirt, shoes, jeans, tight boxers. Naked god. Turn over. Broad shoulders. Ripped back. Firm ass. Thick thighs. Oil warms palms. Thumbs on neck—shiver. Light strokes. Then deep, firm glides. Scalp rub—he’d purr if cat. Desire builds. Senses explode: slick skin, musk scent, candle flicker.
The Act: Oily Hands to Deep Thrusts Unleashed
Bra off near face. He twists—I yank hair. ‘Gonna lick every inch till you’re mad.’ Tongue ear lobe. Neck. Spine trail. Ass cheeks. Nails rake back, inner thighs. Nipples drag ass. So wet. Lick cheeks hungry. Hand slips under. Balls up. Grip throbbing cock. Stroke long, hard. Tongue balls. Suck gentle. He lifts ass—offers more. Want to rim deep. Not yet. Roll side. Mouth engulfs. Gland leaks pre-cum. Salty sweet. Deep throat. Huge dick pulses. Love sucking him. He groans: ‘Sabine, fuck, so good. Swallow all. Drink my cum.’ Hotter words fuel me.
Lips tight. Faster. Squeeze balls soft. Hips buck. Cock rams throat. Explodes. Thick ropes hit tongue. Bitter gulp after gulp. Lick clean. Still horny. Straddle. Tongue kiss cum taste. He sucks tits hard. Nipples ache. Jeans unbutton. String only. Finger dives pussy. Soaked. Two fingers pound. Moan loud. Want brutal fuck. He knows. Cock ready. Pushes in slow. Gland stretches. Pain stings—then bliss. Owned.
Push off. Rip string. Doggy. Ass up. He slams home. Hands grip hips. Deep thrusts. Fingers clit furious. Wave crashes. Scream. Pussy clamps cock. Milks him. He floods inside. Fireworks. Collapse sweaty, spent. Hearts pound. Crave more. Deeper kinks. Does he? This secret burns. Shared nowhere but here. Thrill of forbidden rush lingers.