BENCHED by Abigail Graham

mound and I make a hungry, almost animal sound of desire. Yes. Please. Please.
    He sits up suddenly and I start to talk, but he presses his finger to my lip to silence me. The look on his face when I suck on the tip sends a thrill up my spine. He could smash the couch fucking me and I’d love every minute of it.
    Alexander slips his hands under my armpits, lifts me bodily from the couch, and slides me up so my head falls on the arm. He grabs one leg and throws it over his shoulder, and the other falls off the edge. His hands cup my ass, and he dives down and drags his tongue over my pussy.
    I arch back and clench my teeth to hold in the sound. I can’t be too loud. I can’t make any noise at all. His mouth is so hot and I am so wet. He teases my entrance with his tongue and kisses my lips, licks my thighs and squeezes my ass in his hands.
    My eyes flick open as his finger sinks into my body. I melt into the couch, all the strength flowing out of my muscles as he gently pumps his finger inside me and works my clit with his tongue in slow, undulating motions, the pressure and heat building my excitement with every stroke.
    Oh God. I test him by touching his head, and when he licks me harder I knot my fingers in his hair. He pumps faster with his finger, his tongue moving harder, faster, his eyes locked on me. With a squirm and a pant and a gasp, moans catch in my throat as I fight to stay quiet.
    My eyes shoot open as the pleasure builds. I feel it coming, like it hasn’t in a long, long time. It’s going to be a big one. I clap my hands over my mouth, knowing it’s the only way I will hold it in.
    It’s still hard to stifle the cry. It’s like an explosion, a sudden burst of heat and cool blasting through my body in waves. I grip his head with my thighs and quiver and struggle with myself. Shocks flicker down my legs and rise through my body. I feel like I’m drifting, being carried away by an all-powerful current.
    Alexander rises from between my legs and I see his cock hard in his pants and I want him so badly, I want to come and come and come until I can’t breathe. Take me, fill me. Please.
    I offer myself to him in silence but he doesn’t take me. He pulls my shorts up to my waist and tucks my top back down, and pulls me up from the couch. I fall against him and he kisses me, hard, his hands roaming over my body. I’m so sensitive, his touch is almost painful, but it only grows the lust flaring in my chest.
    I grasp at him but again he takes my wrists and stops me. His hands are so huge and powerful, but his touch is delicate, especially when he caresses my palms with his thumbs.
    “You want more?”
    I nod, vigorously.
    “Let me take you out.”
    I tug at my hands, trying to free them. “I can’t.”
    “Why not?”
    “I just can’t.”
    “You can. I know you want to. I think you’d do just about anything I asked right now.”
    God, I would. Any disgusting thing, I’d do it. Anything he wants, he could just use me that way. I give him a pleading look, begging him to finish what he started. I need more.
    “Go out with me. Dinner. Just you and me.”
    I shouldn’t, I know I shouldn’t, it’s a terrible idea, but I have a history of terrible ideas, don’t I?
    No, he’s not like that, is he?
    I stare at this man and try to decide whether he’s good, or just a good lay. Whether he’s playing me or he’s genuine.
    He answers the question for me by brushing my cheek with the tips of his fingers, so gently. He takes me by the arm and the back of my neck and kisses me, firmly but gently this time, denying my attempts to deepen the kiss and draw him back down to the couch to take him inside me. I know how badly he wants it. I can feel the strain in his cock when I caress it through his pants.
    “Make arrangements for a sitter. I’ll pick you up at six o’clock. I mean it.”
    I bite my lip. Then I nod. “Okay.”
    He kisses my forehead and then leaves my home, pulling my door shut behind him. I