The Party

***

He looked up from his coffee and nearly choked. She seemed to realize what was happening at the same moment as he did and she brought her arms down in a flash, covering herself with her robe. Colm was trying desperately to keep the hot coffee from coming out of his nose. Leah turned scarlet.

There was a moment of silence. She was frozen in place. He was staring into his coffee.

What am I supposed to do? It was a question he'd been asking quite a bit in the past 12 hours. His sense of gentlemanly propriety told him to wait for her to set the tone, to let her decide how to handle this; but there was another part of him, small but powerful, told him to get up and grab her and have her right there. His face was burning, his ears were burning, his cock sat up in his pants and roared. He remembered all the times things like this had happened, the girls who seemed to be waiting for him to make a move while he felt paralyzed by not seeing a clear path. He knew he had missed opportunities, and the shame of cowardice and indecision galled him. He looked at her again and could read that she was waiting for him to react, but he didn't know what to do. There was again no clear answer.

Something snapped inside his mind. The uncertainty melted away for one clear and shining moment. He stood, feeling as though he were 10 feet tall, as though he were floating, thinking his head might scrape the high ceiling. He watched his hand move to her face, his fingers taking her chin and swinging her around to face him. He brought one hand to the back of her neck, leaned in, and kissed her gently.

***

She was so embarrassed as she realized her robe was gaping open. And here she was, throwing her arms and head back, as if trying to draw attention to her naked body. She grasped the robe closed, felt her face burn scarlet, and didn't have the slightest idea what to say. He stood up and reached for her, and she turned her face to him, surprised. He put his hands to her face, and drew her in for a kiss.

When their lips met, she felt a jolt of electricity course through her body. She felt her breath whoosh out of her lungs, and she seemed to hang on to that kiss forever. Somewhere in that kiss, she had let go of her robe and placed her hands over his, as if to hold him there. He seemed emboldened by her response, and deepened the kiss, exploring her lips with his, slowly moving his tongue into her mouth, licking her lips.

Her robe gaped open again, and started sliding down one shoulder. She let go of his hands, and pulled away from the kiss, trying to readjust her robe back up her arm and over her body. He reached out his hands and placed them over hers, stopping her progress. She looked up at him, not sure what to do now.

***

The kiss had set off a series of explosions in his head. There was simple arousal and then there was passion, and he knew in that moment exactly what the difference was. He could feel a tremble in his breath, and muscles all over his body began twitching and flexing. He looked right into her eyes and she fairly flinched under his gaze. There was a moment of doubt, the slightest flicker of uncertainty, but then a wave of muscle spasms went off again and his awareness was stifled in the grip of his passion. He stared at her neck where it met her throat and his desire to put his lips there became a need, and he leaned in and kissed her.

Her breath came out rippling with the same quiver. His hands released hers and found themselves sliding across her ribcage to her back, and then downward to cup the soft, firm globes of her buttocks. His kiss wandered across her collarbone, her shoulder, then down her chest. One hand came back around to cup her breast, then rub and gently pinch her nipple. He could feel her sagging into his arms, her weight shifting against him. She seemed to be weightless for a moment, suspended from the hand at her back and the finger that probed her nipple. He watched her in rapt fascination. He rubbed her nipple at just the right spot and she wilted further, and his hunger rose and he pulled her in and kissed her fiercely.

***

She felt her body go hot, like a fever. She relaxed into him, loving the feelings he was pulling from deep within her as he caressed and kneaded her body. She put her arms down, allowing the robe to completely slip off of her body, and then snaked her arms around his neck again. It was all she could do to keep herself from climbing him, like a tree; wrapping her legs around his waist. He kissed her again, and this one seemed more desperate, more needy, and she hungrily returned his fervor.

She ran her hands down the front of him, touching him through the cloth of his shirt. She trailed down his body, to the hem of his shirt, and tugged it upwards. He raised his arms a bit, allowing her to take his shirt off, breaking the kiss only for a moment, before diving right back into it. She now touched his naked skin against hers; she felt her hard nipples brush against his body, and she shivered at the sensation. She ran her hands all around his skin; touching his shoulders, his arms, his back, his stomach, his chest. She pushed her body into his, making him hold her tighter, closer to him, and she reveled in the feel of his skin on hers. She began to work at the clasp of his jeans, trying to unzip them and pull them down. She pulled his underwear down with his jeans, all at once, and he complied by stepping out of his clothes, and stepping into her. She could feel his erection in between them, poking her in the stomach, a little precum smearing onto her skin.

Leah ran her hands down the front of his body again, trailing her fingers across the skin of his chest, his stomach, and continued on down below his belly button to grasp his prick in her hands. She tugged on it gently, and he moaned into her mouth, before breaking the kiss to look at her face. She continued to gently squeeze and pull on him, and in his face, she could see an expression; the knowledge; sex for lack of a better word; possessive and male, and she knew he knew there was no stopping them this time.

***

He went wild. Later that was the only descriptor that made sense to him. He had always been a passionate lover but always in a gentle, reserved fashion. This time, something seemed to snap inside him, he felt it give way, and for the duration he simply sat inside the one small space in his mind that was still operating consciously and watched the rest of it happen.

He gave her a small push backward and she leaned against the kitchen counter, then rushed at her, kicking his pants off as he came. He didn't bother with his socks. There was something in her eyes that he'd never seen before: a controlled sort of fear, similar to the eyes of a prey animal seeing the predator; and yet at the same time there was also a hunger for him, a desire to be prey. Seeing that look only made him more crazed. He grabbed her ass in both hands and scooped her up, lifting her against him. He could feel his cock bouncing around between her thighs and he reached down with one hand and set himself against her labia. Then he let go enough to let her slide down completely onto him.

They both gasped. He bounced her on him, leaning and bending to get as deep inside her as he could. There was a sense of being on the verge of a complete loss of control, thoughts spinning crazily. He wanted to push right to the core of her. She seemed to sense his passion, be swept up in it herself. She leaned back and put one hand against a cabinet, the other locked on his neck, and began to writhe against him. The sensation was staggering but still he wanted more. He ran with her still draped across him, still impaled on him, to the kitchen table, and with one hand swept away a place setting, one coffee cup falling to the floor and smashing, sending coffee and shards skittering across the floor. He threw her on the table and, standing on tiptoes, began to pummel her. She gasped and shuddered and wiggled, her hands gripped tight to the edge of the table, the cords in her neck jumping, her breasts flailing with every push.

***

Oh, God, he filled her up so good; she could fell her muscles contracting around him, sucking him into her, filling her up even more. She held onto the table as he pushed into her, pounding her pussy good, and she needed more; wanted it more inside her. She hooked her hands behind her knees, and pulled them into her chest, rotating her hips upward, exposing her hole more. Oh, God, that was it, that was so good. She bit her lip, wishing she could freeze this moment, this exact feeling, and keep it that way always. He seemed to enjoy her new positioning, and pounded her even more furiously than before. She started moaning in time with his thrusts, could feel her muscles jerking in response to him, squeezing him as he moved inside of her, could feel the throbbing in her lips as he abused her.

She was enjoying the sensations he was bringing her so much, fucking her on her table, the orgasm just snuck up on her. She was suddenly arching and screaming and pulling on her legs harder, scratching up her skin, soaking in every blissful wave of it. Her screams spurred him on, and he pounded in even harder, which she didn't think was previously possible. He gave an almost roaring scream as he thrusted a few more times, and then he collapsed on top of her, panting with her, catching his breath before sliding off of her. She noticed, as she continued to try to catch her breath, that he was still hard. She looked up at his face, wondering.

"You didn't come?" She asked him.

He looked down, and half smiled before looking up at her and shaking his head no. "I'm not done with you yet," he said.

***

He scooped her up again and carried her to the living room. His legs were shaking from both the exertion and the excitement. His passion hadn't abated at all, though some of the fierce edge had softened. He sat her on the arm of her sofa and kissed her. She ran her fingernails across the underside of his cock, and he shuddered. He suddenly grabbed her legs and pulled them out from under her so that she fell backwards onto the cushions with her hips still on the arm. He gave her a sly smile, then ducked down.

Her pussy tasted better than any he'd had before, sweet and light and glorious. He ran his tongue across her inner labia, her clit, he sucked at her lips. She moaned and bucked, pushing her crotch into his face. His hands were clamped around her thighs and he licked, sucked, nibbled, and teased until she seemed close to coming. He lifted her legs a little higher, dancing his tongue across her lips, until he came to the bottom and then gently flicked at her exposed anus. She jumped and squealed. He kept licking her there, soft and teasing, while he moved his hand around and massaged her clit with his thumb. Within minutes she squealed and came. She was hardly out of her orgasm when he grabbed her legs again, spinning her over and pulling her close so that her ass hung in the air, inviting him. He ran his swollen prick across her ass, down the cleft, then found her pussy and pushed in. Thrusting into her, the sight of her lovely ass and the feel of it against his hips and he entered her, threw him into a frenzy again. He got a firm grip on her ass with both hands and laid into her, pummeling and shaking. The sofa scooted an inch at every thrust. Both of them were moaning so loud it verged on yells.

His fire burned no less bright but his energy was flagging, so he whipped her around again, winding up sitting on the couch with her in his lap. She gave him back the sly smile and dropped down, taking him in. She rode him in smooth, easy strokes, like a roller coaster, slow going up, fast coming down, her hair flying, her breasts bouncing in his face. He caught a nipple in his mouth and sucked hard while his hands took her by the hips and guided her, pulled her onto him harder, squeezed her ass and thighs. The way she moved and the sight of her was cutting through the fury, going right through to him, and he felt himself getting close to an orgasm.

He tried to slow her down but she wouldn't slow. "I can't hold it much longer."

She leaned in and kissed him. "Don't hold it," she whispered. "Come. Come with me."

At that, she dug in with fervor, pounding him with all her strength. He felt the orgasm coming, and went toward it. Suddenly he needed to be on top, to drive himself into her when he came. Without pulling out or hardly missing a stroke, he flew forward, laying her on her back on a clear spot on the coffee table, pushed her legs up until she was almost folded in half, and began to pump into her with a powerful fury. She wailed, but in a vibrato from the speed and force of his thrust. Her orgasm rippled through him and he felt himself on the brink.

"I'm going to come!"

She suddenly pushed him back and rolled onto her knees in one quick move, grabbing his dick at the base and suddenly plunging her mouth onto the head. She licked as she bobbed and sucked, one hand working the lower shaft furiously while the other cradled his balls. He felt his toes curling and his spine locking as he came howling, steaming into her mouth, and she sucked his come right out of him until he couldn't take any more and collapsed sideways onto the sofa.

***

She collapsed forward against him, breathing heavily, trying to regain her strength. She gasped and sighed, feeling the intense feeling of pleasure and fulfillment sweep through her body. She could feel her pussy throbbing with her heartbeat, and she licked her lips, as if to catch any stray drops of his come. She didn't want this weekend to ever end. She wanted to spend the whole weekend at home, naked, sucking and fucking and playing and talking with him.

After a few moments of resting, she pushed off of him, resting on her knees on the floor.

"So, you wanna take a shower?" She asked, rubbing on his thigh.