Cutting It Close

he makes me want to grab myself, my face scrunched up in agony because it hurts that he’s not inside me. i want to turn my back to him lift my skirt and bend over, slack-mouthed and expectant. his loose-hipped gait is a suggestion, a maddening demonstration of what he can do. he thrusts forward chest first, cutting the air cleanly as the prow of a boat. i want him to push into me. or maybe pull. yank my chain. everything about him is thick – his hair, his limbs, his neck, his hair. his whole presence settles on my shoulders heavy as a wool blanket and feels just as jungle hot. he’s tall and sequoia solid. i want to climb him, my arms and legs creeping fig that digs eagerly into his smooth freckled flesh. i want to suck out his sweetness and make it my own, then bloom and make him dizzy with my vegetable musk.

 this lust is cruel not because i can’t have him, but because i can and choose not to. he’s as loose as his gait, freer because he’s taken.

<<{{[O]}}>>

He caught me temporarily unaware. His big hands went around my waist hard enough to take my breath away and perched me on a high, narrow counter in some deserted corner where no one gave a shit about two whispering shadows. He forced his way between my clenched legs until my skirt rode up to my waist.

“Leave me be, goddamnit!”

“Nope. Not until you get what you want.”

“And what’s that?”

“I see the way you look at me.”

“And?”

“It hurts.” He leaned into me and one of his hands moved up my ribcage toward my breasts. I slapped him away.

“Don’t give me that emotional bullshit. It sounds ridiculous coming out of your mouth.” My heart beat fast against the hot wall of his chest. He gave a golden syrup slow grin. His blue eyes flashed.

“It’s not my heart that hurts…” He pressed his hips into me. “By the way – nice panties.” He caressed one of the little dancing penguins on the cotton fabric. “They’re hotter than if you’d been wearing some overpriced Victoria’s secret shit.” His hips thrust closer to the penguins. I pounded on his chest, but he just smiled. He knew I wasn’t giving him all I had. I leaned back and rested my head on the wall. His gaze made the exposed tops of my tits sizzle.

“This is a horrible idea,” I said. I took a deep breath.

“I agree, but I don’t care anymore.”

“So all your blood’s left your brain. Thanks for the warning,” I said. I decided if I didn’t look at him, I might be able to resist. But my thighs still hugged his hips. The feel of the metal studs on his jeans, the hardness of his muscle made it hard not to pant. The heat of his hands hovered over my exposed lower belly. If he dared mess with the elastic of my panties,  I’d yell bloody murder…

I realized I was holding my breath.

I began to breathe through my mouth. He didn’t molest me, but he wasn’t moving.

“You know what will happen if we don’t do this,” he said with a little growl that made me curse the commandments. When I opened my eyes, his head was bowed and his face glowed like the (im)penitent Magdalene’s. Was he reflecting my ardor, or was it all his own? He had not taken his eyes from my penguins. The ones between my legs were swimming now.

“What’ll happen if we don’t rut like primates? We won’t go to hell, that’s what.” One of my heels fell to the floor.

“I love it when you play the prude.” He snickered into my neck, but he knew not to touch.

“Don’t be an asshole. It’s no game,” I said although my clit was hard and hot enough to melt his fly buttons. His lips hovered over my breasts, then his face was kissing close. Looking at him reminded me what my mouth was really made for.

“Look at me,” he said. I shook my head no. He squeezed my ribcage underneath my breasts and I groaned discordantly as a leaky accordion. The heat of his lips made my ear skin tingle. “Those penguins are drowning.” His tattooed knuckle grazed the wet fabric and I almost bucked. He caught it. “Let me touch you. Please.” My hands rested on his shoulders although I still couldn’t look at him. They moved, seemingly on their own, to his neck. I squeezed until he sighed. “You don’t have to do a thing to me, I swear. Let me make you come…”

The earnestness of his desire made my eyes burn. In fact,  everything was burning. Even the air around us felt superheated. I traced his lips slowly but stopped when he tried to lick. “No.” My face was so close to his I could taste his breath, but it was not enough. Not nearly. I slid two fingers into his mouth. They passed his teeth and undulated on his tongue. His mouth watered and he sucked the salt off. I had meant to be quick, just wet my fingers, but the silky suggestiveness of his mouth banished thought.

I ran my fingertips along the nacreous inside of his lips and brought them to my mouth. The taste of his chemicals made everything wet – sweat dripped from my temples, my underarms, between my breasts. He was both hard and soft against me, eager but waiting. I wet my fingers in his mouth again, not letting him suck.

Then, in one smooth movement, I pulled my panties down and buried the saliva-slick fingers in my slit. I didn’t need the lubrication, but the thought of his saliva swirling around my swollen clit along with my wetness was enough to give me pre-orgasm shivers. He pulled my panties further down to see but when he tried to touch, I slapped his hand.

“No. Just watch.” I pointed to my panties. “Pull them off.” He was deliberate, grabbing them by the soaked crotch panel. He rubbed his thumbs on the hot stickiness of me before pulling them off, then stuffed them in his pocket. My hand was already working quickly, rubbing quick circles around my clit. Color rose in his cheeks as my scent rose to his downturned face. His brow was sweaty right up to his thick auburn hair and I wanted to trace his widow’s peak with my tongue. He tried to undo his fly and I stopped rubbing.  My hand trembled on his wrist. “No. Please.”

If I saw him I would not be able to resist.

He sighed and focused on my pussy, running his hands up my thighs and parting my legs for a better look. The stone underneath my ass was already dark with wetness as I rubbed. His eyes followed every move so closely he didn’t see me focusing on the shadow of his cock under his jeans. It was so thick…the prospect of his brand of ache, so close yet so far away, was too much to bear.

“Fuck!” The desperation in my voice made him shiver. I parted my lips so he could see every ripple and fold. His hands moved to my inner thighs and massaged, chasing heat. Two fingers didn’t feel like nearly enough, so I slid a third inside myself. I was throbbing. I wanted to feel his strength there, pounding rhythmically as my heart.

Why’d I have to bring hearts into it?

My fingers faltered and the cold gleam coming off his wedding band made my teeth chatter. Maybe it was my frustrated desire, because this was certainly not blind lust. It was deeper than that, far more disastrous. I caught his eye and for a full minute, we just looked into each other. My fingers began to move again, soft little flicks on my clit that sent monstrous waves of pleasure up my spine. Something powerful jumped from him to me. We were suddenly a closed system, defying the laws of entropy with sheer desire. I felt him underneath my skin. He began to breathe with me, sharp pants that got faster and faster. His face got closer and closer, his blue hot eyes bigger and bigger until he was all I felt. His desire was growing with mine and I could feel it, feel it expand and throb deep in my ribcage until I could hardly breathe…

I bumped up against the raw sweetness of his orgasm and fell headfirst into mine. I twitched almost painfully hard around his surging cock, making his lower belly tattoo of a sun gleam with my come. He groaned into my neck and I wrapped my legs around his hips and hugged him tighter.

“This is really cutting it close,” I said.  I tightened around him as he pulled out. He traced my messy slit and  sucked his fingers clean clean, moaning at the taste of me.

“It wasn’t nearly close enough.” He squeezed my ass and pressed himself against me.  He was still hard, and the feel of him reminded me of why I was doing this.

“It’s begun, hasn’t it?”

He nodded.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered to the darkness before kissing his breath away.

Latest Comments

  1. paul1510 says:

    Ximena.
    With your writing, who needs central heating?
    Warm hugs,
    Paul.

  2. Squeaky says:

    this one really made my heart beat faster, Ximena. and the sex, whilst hot, was almost a sideshow to what was *really* going on, here. and, oh! that’s deep, powerful stuff, beautifully portrayed. i sense the whole world shimmering around these two, and they the white-hot, crystal-sharp, solid core of it.

    just two little things, though:
    after “Why’d I have to bring hearts into it?” whose fingers are where…? it’s slightly confusing. she’s using her fingers, yet she comes on his.
    also, she stops him getting his cock out, and yet at the end, it sounds as if she’s licking his come from her fingers. and he’s definitely licking hers from his.

    • ximenawrites says:

      after “Why’d I have to bring hearts into it?” whose fingers are where…?

      Have you ever reached a moment during sex where your body *completely* takes over? Where your thought are just a (rudimentary) commentary of what’s going on?

      He took her there. She wasn’t in control any more, and her hands did what they really wanted to do.

      It’s a wonder they didn’t fuck.

      EDIT: I made the changes. The story flows much more organically now :)

    • The Lustful Literate says:

      Damn…you have a way with words. I especially love the italicized introduction… I did get caught up in the same confusion as “Squeaky”. It happened with this line:
      “I twitched almost painfully hard around his surging fingers.” And it completely stopped my flow. I went back and re-read the prior paragraph to see if I had missed something, but alas, I had not. Other than that, this was a deeply sensual, sexy look at a very intriguing, personal, and dangerous moment. Wow! So much going on in such a short piece. Excellent read…thank you!

  3. ximenawrites says:

    I’ve been to your site before and loved it, Lusty. You made a lot of changes! Again, I love the pinups.

    Anyway, I *wanted* the reader to be as confused at the end as she was about what happened.

    Call it ‘literary sleight of hand’.

  4. Anonymous says:

    The literary sleight of hand is brilliant. Keep up the amazing work. :)

  5. ChristineW says:

    Wow – this one hits really close to home. I am currently living this situation and it is HOT. I love it. You’re peice makes it more beautiful than I could ever imagine. thank you.

  6. Kay says:

    Enjoyed immensely…this writing made me want to pour myself into a tale of the passion of what entails right before and the exact moment a man and woman succumb to their desires and both realize at the same exact moment that they are now adulterers and that mixed feeling of being ashamed and longing for it over and over again. LOL…perhaps being married for 13 years is showing a little. Haha…I love reading GOOD writing that takes my mind into its own creative inspirations. I LOVE BEING A WRITER…and reading good writing is like a drug induced high…THANKS for todays good buzz….

    • ximenawrites says:

      //I love reading GOOD writing that takes my mind into its own creative inspirations. I LOVE BEING A WRITER…and reading good writing is like a drug induced high…THANKS for todays good buzz….//

      That’s such a huge compliment, Kay.

      Thank you so much :)

  7. ximenawrites says:

    The responses I’ve received from married readers are interesting to say the least, and I’m glad that some understand my purpose.

    This wasn’t meant to be a morality play. It’s a slice of life, and infidelity happens…even in the best households. I wanted to make them as human as possible, not just two nefarious characters having illicit sex in the dark.

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