Effie

[fundamentally]

Continued from HERE

"I'm sure you will," he smiles, settling in close to her. He slides cold fingers up her thigh, under the hem of her skirt, and draws icy lines on her leg above her hosiery.

He loves howfeminine she is. Always in dresses. Always with hair and make up. He feels truly privileged to see her at night with her hair bound up in the kerchief and her make up all removed. She's a mystery to him with her regimens of skin care. Creams and lotions and potions of colour that make her eyes pop and her lips sparkle. She's a marvel. Beauty personified.

At her flat he leads the way in and checks the locks- more of them now than before the letters and pictures started coming- and he pets Princess. John puts the food in the refrigerator while Effie feeds her meowing darling and then he smooths his beard and takes hold of her from behind. He presses a whiskery kiss to the back of her neck, cold fingers holding her arms.

"I love how calm you are at home," he says. "You're so jumpy out and about. It's him, isn't it? You need to come round, Effie, and let me call the police."

Comments

[fundamentally]

His heart is pounding and he roughly groans as he tilts his hips into her touch. It's magical and wicked and the delicate strength of her fingers massaging his balls is enough to take him over the edge. He savors it but a moment later he's got lube in his palm and he's pumping his fist on his cock. The slick hand pushes her touch away and then he guides himself against the tight pucker and he takes her.

His teeth grind together and his eyes roll back and slip closed as he sinks in past the point of resistance to the moment her body grips him and pulls him in. He's no less vocal than she is, moaning loudly as he's drawn in to the hilt. He's there for a long moment, delighting in the tightness of her.

And then he opens his eyes and levels his stormy gaze on her. There's an intensity there, a feral look of pure want and he hoists a leg over his shoulder so he can get closer and he starts fucking her with savage, sharp thrusts, just slow enough that he won't come in seconds.

[smiles_on]

Where she's usually pliable and willing, this time she makes sure he has to work for it. Makes sure they can both feel him taking what he wants. It's fucking glorious. There's pain, but it's nothing more than she can handle, particularly when he's looking down at her like there's nothing left in him but the snap of his hips and the feeling of her body tight and hot around him.

She's taking in short, sharp gasps of air but she tries desperately to slow her breathing, to relax her body and let the pleasure overtake the pain. It's not that she objects to it hurting -- to him hurting her -- and there are plenty of occasions when she might even enjoy it more this way. But she's nearly as desperate for this fuck as he is and she intends to come as many times as she can before they're done. So she concentrates on the sensations. The spark of nerves and the way he fills her, the way her body stretches to allow him in. It's filthy and hot and the harder he fucks into her the more her cunt aches and she has to touch herself. She's soaking wet as fingers slide through her swollen lips, the pleasure so sharp and immediate that she cries out.

[fundamentally]

There was a moment, and it didn't happen every time, when Effie would cry out and her voice would be raw and rough. Her cry would rasp and it reminded John of a woman he had once known who smoked too much and whose voice had a quality that even as a gay man it went straight to his cock. It was a whiskey-soaked, smoke-infused rattle that appealed to a very primal sensibility. And when Effie had cried out one time too many, when she came and voiced it there was that hiss of a static growl that crawled down his spine and grabbed him by the balls.

"Fuck me," he gasps in surprise and he drives in and holds her close, filling her as he pulses his release deep inside her. He shudders, his hips bucking erratically as he spends himself, and then he goes boneless and sinks down onto her. The angles changed and he slipp=s from her body indelicately. John lets her leg down and settles in on top of her, his head between her breasts where he can hear the steady beat of her heart. He can feel the way his cock flags and softens and for a moment, just a moment, he feels ashamed that he can't give her more.

He's talked to a man he works with about the pills the man takes and John is tempted by the tales of an erection that lasts even after coming. An erection for hours. He's tempted by that. He'd love to fuck Effie until they were both utterly wasted.

But for now he gathers his wits and kisses his way down her body, eager to finish her off with fingers and mouth.

[smiles_on]

She hadn't been expecting it, hadn't realized how close he was to the edge. Usually she know when he's about to come but this time it takes her by surprise and she can feel that it was the same for him. Not that it matters when she can feel him hot inside of her. When his whole body is trembling and his skin is slick and she knows she's the one who's made him this way. It makes her feel so overwhelmed with love for him that it's like a physical pain in her chest. Holding him close, stroking his hair, letting him figure out how to breathe again.

There isn't any doubt in her mind that he'll make her come again before the night is done, but she feels...odd somehow. Keyed up and aggressive in ways that aren't typical for her. If she was willing to stop and consider it, she would probably realize it's the stress she's been under, the constant tension and fear, but she doesn't want to think right now. Especially not about anything outside of their bed and their bodies and way his skin feels against hers. Skin she finds herself wanting to touch every inch of. If she could, she would hold him down and lick and bite him until he couldn't take any more. She would tie him down and take his spent cock in her mouth until he begged her to stop. The need is like electricity crackling along her skin. A restlessness they haven't quite been able to satisfy yet. But his mouth on her cunt is a delightful start.

"John, don't stop. Please --" her voice breaks as he slides his fingers into her. "Like that. Yes like that."

[fundamentally]

She's so wet and her cunt isn't like her ass. It's hungry for him and one, two, three fingers isn't enough. He works in four up to his knuckles and fucks her at the pace her body begs for. His tongue flicks her clit and he sucks and suckles and hums his pleasure. He wants her to come so badly. He wants to make her come again and again, wants that raw edge in her voice, wants her saying his name just like that. He wants her to fall apart just so he can gather her up and hold her close and put her back together.

He's really not thinking that far ahead. He's too keyed up, too into the moment as he sinks his hand into her and laps the taste of her up. She's in his beard and he knows even after he cleans up he's going to smell her clinging to him. The very idea of that has his cock twitching with interest and swelling a little. Not hard but a bit stiff and still far too sensitive for him to do anything with himself.

[smiles_on]

She's begging, panting, crying his name, nothing in her head but nonsense sounds and the buzz she hears when she's so close to coming she can feel it in every muscle. Right down at the base of her spine, at the greyed out edges of her vision, until she's clawing at it, fucking down onto his hand, squirming against his mouth, toes curled so hard against the sheets it's painful.

When it finally hits her she can't help but scream, her throat raw and her voice hoarse. It's never gentle after the first time. There's always that slight edge of pain to it like all of her nerves are firing at once. And it's always, always good. Her legs are twitching hard and she can feel herself squeezing his fingers so tight inside her. Her hand is trembling as she reaches down and tangles her fingers in his hair and while she's sure she could go on like this for hours if he was willing, she'd rather be touching him. Tasting him. And so she urges him up, running her hands over every bit of his skin she can reach. "I love you so much, John. So much. Come here and let me feel you."

[fundamentally]

He crawls up the length of her body and settles in half on top of her. He kisses her lazily, his beard damp with her wetness. He's happy to kiss her, to soothe her. He's used her so roughly and now- now he worships her. Soft kisses, soft touches, caring for her the way he does after a night of rough play when she's all raw nerves and exposed soul. It's no different tonight; he's against her, holding her and loving her and bringing her back to reality.

"I love you, Effie, darling," he says softly. "I love you so very much."