The Morning Ride (an erotic short story with exhibitionism, light BDSM) (2 page)

BOOK: The Morning Ride (an erotic short story with exhibitionism, light BDSM)
10.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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Her scent, baby powder and subtle female musk, ripened as he stuck his nose into her folds and swirled his mouth and chin in the moisture spilling from inside her.

Her cunt lips flared then retreated, sucking at air, and he poked his stiffened tongue inside her, fucking her while his thumb rubbed her clit.

Her breaths grew ragged, tinged with moans, and she lifted her legs, hung her thighs over his shoulders, and dug her heels into his back. He rimmed her entrance then lapped upward, pulling back her hood then fluttering the tip of his tongue against her clit while he thrust two fingers inside her.

Her sex clenched around him, more scalding liquid surrounded the digits, easing his way as he pumped inside her.

“Please, please,” she groaned.

His cock was engorged, the skin stretching painfully around it; his balls ached. He gently pushed her thighs off his shoulders and opened his pants, pushing them down just far enough so that he could reach inside and free his cock. His white dress shirt split around it; his pants framed the bottom side. The woman reached down and grabbed his shaft and scooted off the seat. Her feet parted over his spread thighs, and she squatted over his cock, flexing thighs and buttocks to sink onto him, then rise and sink again.

His hands curved around her ass and bit into the soft flesh, forcing her pace faster, her downward thrusts deeper. When her head fell back and her clothed breasts scraped up and down his chest, he powered upward, meeting her downward drives with sharp stabs of his cock, until she issued a short, strangled scream and came.

“Excuse me,” came a voice beside him. And the man beside him rose swiftly and headed out the doors as they slid open.

Daniel was relieved for the interruption because he’d been seconds from an embarrassing eruption. He didn’t glance up to check the stops; he’d kept her in his sights the whole time he’d daydreamed about fucking her, and she hadn’t moved. They shared the same destination.

When she gathered her things, he folded his paper and placed it on the seat beside him, rubbing a hand surreptitiously over his cock to make sure it stayed against his belly, stiff, but aligned with his zipper and therefore less noticeable. Then he sat forward.

The train rumbled to a stop. The doors swished open. The woman took a deep breath, shouldered her tote bag, and rose. He followed her out the doors a second behind, not allowing anyone else to come between them. Not because he intended to stop her today, but because no one was going to steal his view of her backside as she walked ahead of him.

Goddamn, everything about her pleased him. Her baby powder scent, the bounce of her shiny shoulder-length hair, the twitch of her firm ass. She glanced to her side and reached into her purse, then glanced up and caught him looking.

Her eyes widened, and then she stumbled, going down on her knees on the concrete platform. He followed so closely he had to straddle her to keep from kicking her. Her head came back, hitting him in the groin, and he doubled over, his fingers digging into her scalp to cup her head and push it back.

“Sorry.” “Fuck.”

He couldn’t have said who said what, but he backed up and knelt beside her, grimacing at the ache in his balls. At least he didn’t have to worry about his erection any more.

She cupped her knee, and her face screwed up in pain. “I’m okay,” she said, her voice tight. Rather like he’d often imagined it would sound when she was close to coming.

“You’re hurt.”

“Didn’t mean to hit you there.”

They both stared as people muttered and flowed like a river around them.

Daniel stuck out his hand. “I’ll help you up.”

Her hand settled inside his. Her fingers were slender, her palm warm. He grasped her firmly and stood, pulling her up with him. He didn’t let go of her as she wobbled a bit. “Gotcha,” he said, cupping her other arm as he held tightly to her hand.

She blinked; her cheeks filled with warm color. When she glanced down, she gasped. “Hell, and I didn’t bring a change of pantyhose.”

“Maybe you should just take them off,” he said, staring at the ladders streaking down the shredded hose. When she gave him a startled look, he felt his own cheeks heat. “Didn’t come out quite right, did it?”

The corners of her mouth twitched. “Thanks for the rescue.”

His heart thudded heavily against his chest. “Any time.”

“I’ve seen you before,” she said, then swallowed hard.

He liked the melodic roll of her voice. Not too high, but still feminine. “I’ve seen you too.”

She glanced away and a deep breath blew between her pursed lips. “Guess I better go. Thanks, again.” She pulled her hand from his, gave his face a quick, but strangely poignant glance, and turned away.

Daniel cursed his cowardice. “Wait a second.”

The woman glanced over her shoulder.

“I’ve been waiting too long to meet you to let you walk away before you promise to have dinner with me.” The words came out in a long rambling growl, and he felt his face warm.

Where a hint of humor curving her mouth had made his heart beat heavier, the full-blown beauty of the wide smile she gave him now took away his breath.

She reached into a pocket of her purse and pulled out a business card. “Call me?”

He glanced down at the card, but couldn’t take anything in, just the fact that she hadn’t said no to his suggestion.

“You know,” she said, hesitating for second, “I’ve been waiting a long time, too.”

Daniel knew he was moving too fast, but his body was hot, ready to pounce and her expression was open—and she didn’t pull away as he leaned down to kiss her. Just a quick, chaste touch of his mouth against hers. Her lips were soft. Her breath minty.

Another flow of people moved around them, and he shook his head. “I’ll call.”

She gave him a small, tight smile and turned away.

Daniel watched her move away, not liking the leaden feeling that weighed him down. He stepped out, unwilling to let her out of his sight. When he caught up with her, he cupped her elbow. “Promise I’m not a stalker, but would you have coffee with me?”

A gust of laughter shook her, but she quickly nodded. “I know just the place.”

*

Sophie played with
the curls she’d formed in her hair, hoping he’d appreciate all the care she’d taken with her appearance. She wore a demure, sleeveless cloudy blue blouse, a slim navy skirt and tights—monochromatic colors were supposed to be slimming, and she wanted to be perfect. He was picking her up at her place, their first real date after a week of morning coffees.

Everything was going great. They’d agreed to take an earlier train each morning so they could stretch their daily meetings. They talked rapidly, in blurted confessions then sat quietly drinking their coffee. Every day when they parted, he kissed her, each kiss more passionate than the one before. This morning, he’d drawn her hips close to his, and she’d felt his erection against her belly. He hadn’t minded when she’d pressed against it; his fingers bit into her hips.

He hadn’t said where he was taking her, but she hoped he didn’t have reservations he wouldn’t want to break. She’d spent the afternoon cleaning her apartment, changing her sheets, because she wanted him to stay. It was time to find out if reality matched fantasy.

Her doorbell rang and sent her heart racing. When she swung open the door, he was dressed casually in a long-sleeved, heather-colored Henley and jeans. In his hands were bags bearing the name of her favorite Thai restaurant.

His gaze slid down her skirt and silk blouse then back up. Heat glittered in his eyes. “I should have told you not to dress up. Sorry you went to the bother.”

She shook her head and spun. “Do you like it?”

“Very much.”

“Then it was worth the effort.” She pointed to the single button at the side of her skirt. “That’s all that’s holding it up.”

His chest rose. “Sophie, I’m trying to take this slow.”

She cocked a brow as she took the bags and walked to her kitchenette. “Bringing dinner to my apartment where we can be alone, that’s slow?”

He wrinkled his nose. “I was hoping to get to second base on the sofa.”

She laughed and reached for his hand. “We’ll eat
after
we’ve worked up an appetite.” Then she walked backwards down the short hallway to her bedroom. A single light shone on the stand next to her bed. The covers were turned down. “I was hoping you’d get considerably farther than second base.”

Daniel gave her a look that sent a rush of fluid to her pussy. His gaze was sharp, his cheeks tightening to blades. He gathered her closer, pulling her body against his, and bent his head.

She rose on tiptoe and met his kiss, winding her arms around his neck.

He raised her skirt, grabbed handfuls of her ass, and lifted her. She wound her legs around his waist and held tightly as he walked to her bed.

He came over her, roaming his hands over her clothing, squeezing her breasts, her hips, coming up between her legs to glide over her sex.

Sophie made a sound, a tiny mew, and he leaned away. “Too many clothes?”

She nodded, reaching for his shirt to drag it up partway until he pulled it over his head. His skin was pale as a stock-broker’s should be, but nicely muscled. Hair cloaked his chest, not too thickly, just right. She combed her fingers through it then circled his small nipples.

“You said there was a button.”

She guided his hand to her side and waited as he unbuttoned her skirt then unwrapped her like a present.

He stared at her tights.

“Not very convenient,” she said grinning.

“Not a problem.” He crawled off the bed then leaned over her, sliding his fingers under the waistband of her tights and peeling them down. When he bared her pussy, his gaze snagged, but he lingered longer staring at her thighs. “I’ve imagined them so many times. They’re lovely, rounded.”

She held her breath. Yes, she was carrying too much weight, and most of it landed on her butt and thighs. But his tightening expression signaled arousal. She came up on her elbows to watch him drag the tights the rest of the way off.

His gaze darted to her face then back to her pussy. He reached out and wrapped his fingers around her ankles and pulled her sideways until her legs dangled off the side of the bed. “Take off your blouse.”

She sat up, reached behind her to open the button at her neck, then pulled off her blouse. Before he could ask, she opened her bra and drew it down her arms.

His chest rose. His hands went to his belt and he unbuckled it, opened his pants, and pushed them down his legs. When he straightened, she felt a little dizzy. He was large. Just as he’d been in her dream. Thick and curving upward.

He bent over her, scooped her mouth with his, then pushed her backward, lowering to take a sprung nipple in his mouth. He suctioned, drawing until her toes curled, then backed off to tease her with flutters of his tongue.

“They’re pink. I knew they’d be pink,” he said, kissing across her chest to capture the other nipple.

She petted his thick hair, combing it and digging her nails into his scalp when he nibbled her tip.

Then he backed away again, going to his knees and spreading hers. He draped her thighs over his shoulders and kissed her inner thigh, an outer lip, before burrowing into her, his tongue licking around her entrance then plunging inside while he tweaked her clit with his fingers.

“Daniel,” she said, groaning. Reality was
so
much better.

When he rose again, he shifted her, urging her to the center of the bed. He cloaked himself then turned her and licked a hot trail down her spine. At her bottom, he bit each cheek. Just hard enough to make her quiver. He kissed her cunt and moved behind her, his cock prodding her, then plunging into her.

Sophie screamed, unraveling in a moment. His girth stretched her, his length plundered. Moisture flooded her channel as she bounced back to greet his strokes.

A clap landed on one side of her ass. Loud, but not really hard. It surprised her, made her freeze.

He leaned over back and whispered in her ear. “Did you like that, Sophie? Do you want another?”

Her pussy flooded with moisture, as much from the silky texture of his voice as the warmth of her ass. “Please.”

He straightened and began to thrust into her again, smooth, deep glides that had her passion rising steeply again. A slap landed on the opposite cheek, sharper than the first one. Her pussy clenched his cock. She lowered her middle to lift her ass, begging silently for another.

Again and again, he placed slaps, some hollow-sounding and not too sharp, others flat and stinging. She sobbed, dropping her head to rest it on the cool sheet. This was pure bliss.

At last, he went still and bent, encircling her with an arm and raising her to sit, still impaled on his cock. His hands roamed her breasts, massaging then pinching her nipples. “Use
your
fingers to tug on them, pull them far and let them bounce back. I want to watch.”

She did as he asked, resting her head to one side as he gazed over her shoulder as she played. She tugged them, twisted them, pulled them out and watched them bounce. Her nipples felt like they were on fire, her pussy oozed constantly.

BOOK: The Morning Ride (an erotic short story with exhibitionism, light BDSM)
10.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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