just—"
"Needed a little prodding," Jeff said.
"Yeah."
"I'm pretty good at prodding," he said, a mischievous smirk on his face.
"Hmmm. I might have to test your prodding abilities. You know. To make sure they're up to expectation. We have very strict prodding standards, you know."
"What kind of test did you have in mind?" he asked, feigning curiosity.
"Come inside and I'll show you," I said.
His eyes lit up with a lustful hunger as we went inside.
"Take me," I gasped, my lips against the hair above his ear. "Take me right here, right now."
Lately, we'd gotten into a pattern. We'd work, go back to his place, have a glass of wine or a bottle of beer, and then go into his room, our room, and make love. It was a pattern I enjoyed. There were nights we simply went to sleep, holding each other. The sex, even when it was the same basic thing or two every night, was never stale, never boring. I could see us in ten years, still enjoying vanilla missionary sex just as much as now.
But this, the fiery hunger flickering in Jeff's eyes, the demanding way he pinned me back against the front door and chained my wrists by my face with his strong hands, this was sudden and powerful and lit me from within. He didn't kiss me at first. He held my hands in his, palm against palm, fingers lined up, his dwarfing mine. Then, slowly, he curled his fingers into mine, clenching tight. His lips explored my mouth, his tongue pushing between my lips to taste my tongue.
I kissed him with eyes wide open, watching his expression change moment by moment: lust, love, hunger, need, raw and potent strength. He circled both of my wrists with one hand, holding them up over my head. With his other he lifted my shirt up, stripped it off, releasing my hands long enough to pull it free and toss it aside. His mouth dipped to my shoulder, kissed the round bend from shoulder to arm, then upward to my neck, my jaw. Gentle, nimble fingers unclasped my bra, dropped it to my feet. While my hands were free to slip the straps off my arms, I tried to wrap my arms around his neck, but he caught my wrists again and pinned them above my head, kissing me with startling power.
I melted into the kiss, relaxed into his hold, pressed my bare breasts against the rough cotton of his button-down shirt. His free hand traced down my side, butted against the waist of my jeans and circled around to the front, toying with the button before releasing it. He lowered himself down, stretching his arm to keep my hands in place, his lips kissing a hot, moist line down my chest and between my breasts. He tugged my pants down, one side at a time until they pooled at my feet, and then he repeated the action with my panties.
My back was still against the front door, my heart thudding with anticipation. This was a new, demanding Jeff, in control and taking what he wanted from me. Excitement made my hands tremble and my lips shake against his, and when his teeth grazed my nipple, wet heat burst between my thighs. I struggled against his hold, wanting to touch him, needing to strip him down to skin and slide my legs around him.
He held me still, crushing me against the door with his body, kissing me with hard fury. His mouth demanded my acquiescence, and I gave it, opening to him, softening against him. When I was still and only our lips moved against each other, he leaned back and ripped his shirt open, buttons popping and ticking on the floor at our feet, then, with the fabric dangling from his arm, he deftly slipped out of his pants so he was naked in front of me.
I expected him to push me to our bedroom then, but he didn't. He pressed burning kisses around my breasts, focusing in on one and laving the nipple, circling it, nipping it. His free hand slid palm against my belly, fingers pointing down and moving between my thighs. He cupped me, and I whimpered, wanting to feel his fingers delve in, but he drew out for the moment, smiling against my lips.
"Tell me what you
"Needed a little prodding," Jeff said.
"Yeah."
"I'm pretty good at prodding," he said, a mischievous smirk on his face.
"Hmmm. I might have to test your prodding abilities. You know. To make sure they're up to expectation. We have very strict prodding standards, you know."
"What kind of test did you have in mind?" he asked, feigning curiosity.
"Come inside and I'll show you," I said.
His eyes lit up with a lustful hunger as we went inside.
"Take me," I gasped, my lips against the hair above his ear. "Take me right here, right now."
Lately, we'd gotten into a pattern. We'd work, go back to his place, have a glass of wine or a bottle of beer, and then go into his room, our room, and make love. It was a pattern I enjoyed. There were nights we simply went to sleep, holding each other. The sex, even when it was the same basic thing or two every night, was never stale, never boring. I could see us in ten years, still enjoying vanilla missionary sex just as much as now.
But this, the fiery hunger flickering in Jeff's eyes, the demanding way he pinned me back against the front door and chained my wrists by my face with his strong hands, this was sudden and powerful and lit me from within. He didn't kiss me at first. He held my hands in his, palm against palm, fingers lined up, his dwarfing mine. Then, slowly, he curled his fingers into mine, clenching tight. His lips explored my mouth, his tongue pushing between my lips to taste my tongue.
I kissed him with eyes wide open, watching his expression change moment by moment: lust, love, hunger, need, raw and potent strength. He circled both of my wrists with one hand, holding them up over my head. With his other he lifted my shirt up, stripped it off, releasing my hands long enough to pull it free and toss it aside. His mouth dipped to my shoulder, kissed the round bend from shoulder to arm, then upward to my neck, my jaw. Gentle, nimble fingers unclasped my bra, dropped it to my feet. While my hands were free to slip the straps off my arms, I tried to wrap my arms around his neck, but he caught my wrists again and pinned them above my head, kissing me with startling power.
I melted into the kiss, relaxed into his hold, pressed my bare breasts against the rough cotton of his button-down shirt. His free hand traced down my side, butted against the waist of my jeans and circled around to the front, toying with the button before releasing it. He lowered himself down, stretching his arm to keep my hands in place, his lips kissing a hot, moist line down my chest and between my breasts. He tugged my pants down, one side at a time until they pooled at my feet, and then he repeated the action with my panties.
My back was still against the front door, my heart thudding with anticipation. This was a new, demanding Jeff, in control and taking what he wanted from me. Excitement made my hands tremble and my lips shake against his, and when his teeth grazed my nipple, wet heat burst between my thighs. I struggled against his hold, wanting to touch him, needing to strip him down to skin and slide my legs around him.
He held me still, crushing me against the door with his body, kissing me with hard fury. His mouth demanded my acquiescence, and I gave it, opening to him, softening against him. When I was still and only our lips moved against each other, he leaned back and ripped his shirt open, buttons popping and ticking on the floor at our feet, then, with the fabric dangling from his arm, he deftly slipped out of his pants so he was naked in front of me.
I expected him to push me to our bedroom then, but he didn't. He pressed burning kisses around my breasts, focusing in on one and laving the nipple, circling it, nipping it. His free hand slid palm against my belly, fingers pointing down and moving between my thighs. He cupped me, and I whimpered, wanting to feel his fingers delve in, but he drew out for the moment, smiling against my lips.
"Tell me what you
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