#This was a piece for a story I was working on a couple of years ago. Just Friends I stiffen in alarm as he begins to cross the room, weaving through the scattered couches, heading towards our position....as Philip reaches me. For a wild moment, I am afraid of this man in front of me, afraid of the anger I see in his eyes. Perhaps I’ve gone too far. To my surprise, instead of speaking, Philip reaches out to me, guiding my hand to the bulge in his pants. My eyes widen as I realize what he is asking, and our gazes lock. He is challenging me, but how far do I go? Gracefully, I drop to my knees as I push him down onto the couch and take his length in my mouth. He brushes my hair away from my face with his hand and I look up, meeting his tumultuous gaze. He simply doesn’t know me well enough yet, I suppose. He moans as I tease with my tongue and teeth, bringing him swiftly to the brink of cumming. Just as he is about to release, I straighten and rise to mount him. Smiling wickedly, I run my fingernails lightly down his neck and across his hard, well-muscled chest. He slides easily into my dripping, fevered pussy and begins to move. I squirm and buck wildly, thinking I’ll go mad form the pleasure of having him inside me. Within moments, I reach my long awaited orgasm, kissing Philip deeply as I close my eyes and convulse with the sensations. “Just you and me now, baby.” His deep familiar voice drawls in my ear as he moves beneath me in a maddeningly slow rhythm, arousing me once again. I bite my lip to stifle a soft moan, and he smiles, his glittering eyes fixed on mine. Suddenly he thrusts deeper into me, his rough hands anchoring my hips to his muscular body. I gasp in spite of myself and he laughs, resuming his steady pace. “Quite a show you put on tonight. Was it all for my benefit?” “Why would I put on a show for you? We’re just friends, remember? I was just having a good time.” I smile down at him, feigning innocence of the little game we’re both caught up in. I know he sees through me, but for him to stop the game he would have to swallow his pride and admit it bothers him. I don’t believe he’s willing to admit anything yet, despite his obvious jealousy. “Just friends?” he growls dangerously, and I wonder again if I’ve gone too far. Deftly he rolls me onto the couch so that he is poised above me, his hands braced on my shoulders, holding me down. “Does this feel like just friends to you?” His eyes burn with rage as he claims me furiously, causing me to cry out in a haze of pleasure and pain. Tears spring to my eyes and I push against him futilely, my hands pressed flat against the tight white tee shirt stretched over the hard muscles of his chest. He laughs darkly at my resistance and claims my lips with the same fury as he asserts his claim over the rest of me. Despite my fear and anger, I feel myself growing passionately aroused at his cruel manner. It may not be the reaction I was after, but it is definitely a reaction. I suppress a smile as I begin to squirm beneath his coarse lovemaking. This is not the reaction of a friend. It is the reaction of a man possessed, overwhelmed by his emotions. My heart leaps with the joy of this new evidence of his feelings and together we climb towards a pleasure beyond expression. His rhythm grows more frenzied as I match his thrusts, until simultaneously we cry out, our bodies locked together at the height of our passion. “You’re mine,” he whispers hoarsely, kissing me again as he collapses on top of me, completely spent. I wrap my arms around him, clinging to him as he speaks the words I’ve dreamt of hearing for so long: “No more games. From this moment on, you belong only to me.”
Posted on: Mon, 10 Jun 2013 22:19:35 +0000
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