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Authors: Isabell Lawless,Linda Kage

Burned Gasoline (15 page)

BOOK: Burned Gasoline
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              “As a child this is what I remember the most. The look and smell of fern, and Nova needs that too. Christmas is sacred. It’s just the way it is, Raylyn, so I’m getting you a god damn tree. Stop fighting me on this.”

              As she watched him finish off the last strand of lights at the top, just below her mother’s golden tree topper, the memory of his stubbornness about Nova, and the spirit of Christmas, brought a smile to her face. When he was finished he simply sat back a few feet on his knees, hands on his hips, making sure every light twinkled just as the box intended. Whites, blues, reds, and greens all beamed among the branches of the magnificently smelling tree, covering most of the west wall of the living room, and letting the star topper almost nudge the wooden ceiling. It looked Christmas-like alright. Only thing missing would’ve been St. Nick himself, patting Jeff on the shoulder for his good job, while smoking a pipe. The scene looked like taken from a novelty book of historical holidays.

              Leaning under the tree slightly, she grabbed one of the gifts she’d stacked in the back of the ever growing pile of Christmas presents; mostly for Nova, just as her own tall, dark, jolly St. Nick had insisted.

              “I’ve got something for you.” She said, and handed over a red paper box, finished off with a green bow on top.

              With nothing but a smile his hands shook the box gently, but gave off no sound.

              “It’s nothing special, really. I just saw this and thought of… well… you and your magnificent body… and broad shoulders… and how you…”

              “Sssh.” He cut her off. “Don’t say anything before I open it.” Nimble fingers took off the few pieces of tape at the edge of the box, and opened the lid.

              “As I said. It’s nothing.”

              “I like it.” He nodded and took out the red and blue checkered flannel shirt from the box to put it on. “If you thought of me when you bought it, it’s a perfect gift. I love it.” He said, and moved his shoulders around making sure it fit perfectly snug around those deliciously good-looking muscles of his. The ones that always made their slight appearance through the fabric of every single shirt he ever wore. Subtle but strong.

              “When you wear that I feel like sitting down in your lap and do dirty, dirty things with you. I have a thing for men in work attire.”

              His eyes slowly stopped the ogling of the shirt and met hers. “What’s stopping you?”

              In the blink of an eye she grabbed the empty paper box out of his hands, tossed it aside, and took the last few steps over to where he was still sitting by the foot of the tree and straddled him.

              “That shirt makes you look…” She rubbed her hands over the fabric covering his shoulders. “You’re making me wet.” She then whispered into his ear.

              “Love the analogy. I think I’ll leave this on from now on.”

              She made sure he understood the power behind her phrase by pressing her crotch down onto his. Grinding herself slowly against the growing bulge in his jeans. Something she knew the very great size of, and that it was well alive, and hiding, behind that zipper. Her hands grabbed hold of his hair and she pulled his face into hers, and practically forced his mouth opened with the strength of her tongue.

              “Oh God, I need to wear this shirt all the time. You’re practically riding me through my pants.” With large hands he grabbed the sides of her hips and held her down hard against his jeans. Letting her movement drive him wild and horny.

              “I bet you’d soak my fingers if my hand accidentally slipped inside those pants of yours. Am I right?”

              Her open mouth kept kissing him. “Don’t make it accidental. Do it.” She said against the warmth of his lips.

              One of his hands slid between their grinding bodies and pushed its way down the inside of her pants, which was the easiest task in the world, seeing as she wore those favorite pants of hers whenever she was home; dark gray yoga pants. Easy attire for a large eager hand to get into.

              With the surprising feeling of only skin underneath he pulled back his head slightly and looked at her.

              “No underwear, Raylyn? Damn.”

              “Sine you’re already in the house it seemed pointless to roam through the drawers for something hot to wear.” The second she finished her short sentence his hand moved further down and let his whole hands cup her intimately.

              Her hands gently cupped his rugged unshaven face, and his lips brushed hers every time either of them spoke. Suddenly her eyes shut, her breath hitched, and a small tension in her legs made her move up further on her knees. It always amazed him how her body so obviously showed him when he did something she enjoyed. Her body didn’t asses the ability of lying. With her eyes still closed, her forehead against his, his face in her hands, she slowly began riding the two fingers he had slid inside her. The skin of his fingers melted into the smooth insides of her pussy, and when he started meeting her slow movements with the increasing speed of his deeply set fingers and the palm of his hand, a small moan escaped her mouth and cut the quietness of the house in half.

              By simply watching her, he noticed how he with the speed of his fingers managed the utter control of her body movement, and a few seconds later she soaked his fingers with her warm wetness and road his hand hard like there was no tomorrow. Gradually his left hand had to hold his other steady, still moving his hand in opposite direction, meeting every one of her down movements with a load smack up of his hand. God was she wet.

              Her hands left his face only to grab onto his shoulders, giving her more power to push herself up and away, creating more friction between them, then land hard and deep on his fingers.

              With a sudden whisper her eyes flew open. “I’m coming!” She gasped, and crunched her upper body over his shoulder. A bare second later her body turned silent, rigid.

              It wasn’t until then he noticed he had held his breath and immediately sucked in some much needed air into his lungs. He was suddenly breathing quickly, as if
he
had just been the one going into ecstasy. With his two fingers at a halt inside her he felt the still ongoing quivering of delighted muscles and let the rest of her body slowly come back from the extraterrestrial pleasure trip he’d just given her next to the ambient lights of the Christmas tree. Feeling her breathing come back to normal, and her moans die off, he slid his fingers out from the warmth between her thighs.

              Her face was still resting heavily on his shoulder and he noticed how well the fabric of his new shirt transferred the warmth of her body onto him. He practically felt like ripping every article of fabric from his every growing hot body and bond with hers. Naked. Deep. Make her scream about coming again. But knowing she was still recuperating, as her lips gave small feather light pecks on the skin of his neck, he simply gave a wicked smile then put the two wet fingers into his mouth. Closing his lips around them he tasted nothing but her arousal. Sweet, still warm, and so Raylyn.

              Her face lifted from his shoulder then, up to his eye level, and stunned she stared at the fingers in his mouth.

              “You want to have a taste too?” He asked with a grin. “You taste good you know.” Her breathing suddenly stopped, as if she was contemplating his dare.

              “Hold on.” He said, and quickly pushed his hand back between her legs and slid into her wetness once more without having her answer him with more than a stunned, pleasurably sounding gasp. As quickly as his fingers made it inside her, he pulled both of them back up to his mouth, but only to moisten his lips with her wetness, not to fully devour.

              “Here, taste you. Taste yourself.”

              “Um… I don’t think...” He never gave her a chance to finish that sentence and pushed his wet middle finger inside her barely open lips, interrupting her babbling. Then, looking straight into his eyes she… succumbed, and sucked it. Deeply. One finger after the other, until her own wetness, which had lingered like a glistening layer on his fingers, was the new taste on her tongue. “Not too bad.” She said, and smiled shyly, his finger still in her mouth. 

              He moved his face closer to hers, until they touched nose tip to nose tip. “You my love, tastes so good. I just wanted you to know why I always look forward to being between your legs. This taste is special. It’s yours. And now it’s mine… please don’t ever make me taste anything else for the rest of my life.” He couldn’t stop kissing her then.

              “And having you suck on my fingers like that, well, now I have to fuck you. I
have
to.” He stated as a matter of fact and in a second the buttons of his dark jeans popped open and the wonderful erection of his was able to breathe a few seconds of air before he pulled her body straight back down onto his and buried himself strong and deep inside her with a grunt.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

              The house was still as quite as when they’d started decorating for Christmas this evening. The lights on the tree were still shining cheerfully as if nothing naughty had happened on the floor right next them.

              “Alright,” Jefferson pulled on his boxer shorts and walked out into the hallway to grab something hidden on the bottom of his bag he’d brought with him when he’d come over a few days ago. It was almost Christmas after all. “This might be something you’ll like, but somehow I’m also half anticipating it might end up with you putting your fist in my face, and me leaving the house, but… anyway, Merry Christmas.”

              The box was neither light, as if it contained some barely covering pretty lingerie, nor was it heavy enough for a four-hundred pages book on the Indian love making techniques of Kama Sutra. She shook it a little, but only heard the vague crunching of what could possibly be tissue paper.

              “Open it.” He said, watching her tightened the blanket around her naked shoulder and her fingers unwrap the bow he’d put around the gift to hold the paper box together.

              “Um, is this what I think it is?” Her fingers lightly brushed over the contents inside the gift box.

              “What do you think it is?”

              “Um, this…” She pointed at the smallest one of the items. A silver shiny bullet with a sapphire colored stone at the end. “It’s butt plug, right?”

              “Yes, you’re correct.”

              “Um, I’m not quite sure what the rest is.”

              “They’re all toys, sweetie. They’re all designed to go into the same spot on your body.”

              “At the same time?” Her hand flew off the items, as if they’d burned her skin.

              “Oh, God no. I wouldn’t wish that pain on you.” His hands flew up in defense. “You, I mean,
we,
will use them one at a time.”

              “But, this… really?” Holding up what looked nothing like a pleasurable toy but rather resembled a chunky black pearl necklace found in a jewelry box.

              “Anal beads.”

              “This?”

              “Another butt plug, just slightly bigger.” He answered as casually as if he was discussing types of cars, or what milk to buy at the store.

              “And this?” The shiny item in her hand simply looked like a much larger version of a golf ball attached to a three inch metal handle.

              “Now
that
will take some time getting used to. We can’t just rush into using that.”

              “But… what… where… how?”

              “How can that possibly fit inside you?”

She nodded embarrassed and measured the weight of it in her hand.

              “After that one night, when you came like a freight train in your bed from not only having my tongue but my finger in your ass, you gave me a quite obvious clue to what your body likes, even if you won’t confess to that now. But trust me, we’ll work our way up to this one, but eventually it will be going in.”

              He took the box out of her hands, placed it on the chair next to the tree and pulled her into a tight hug. “So, are we okay? Or do you want to slap me? Should I leave?”

              She smiled and ran her tongue across her teeth, deciding what she really felt like. “I think I’m actually, a little bit… turned on. Slightly scared, though.” She giggled. “That big purple monster over there looks terrifying.” Her head nodded in the direction of the last item she’d unwrapped from the tissue paper and was now taking up the largest space in the gift box.

              “It’s just a dildo, sweetie. You’ll ride it inch by inch, while I watch, and you’ll decide how much you want to take in, or not.”

              “But…” His hand softy cupped her chin and held her face close to his before he whispered.

BOOK: Burned Gasoline
11.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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