I have no claim on Renata Koreman. We aren’t married. We aren’t even dating.
Yet, I wish she was mine…
Her eyes are dark, dilated and heavy-lidded as she continues to play with that swollen nub of nerves. I can’t believe what her clit looks like—it’s become huge, engorged with blood, stiff and standing upright. It’s begging for attention, just like her erect nipples. Every erotic zone she has swells—tight with building sexual need.
Renata’s body is reaching for me.
“Good,” I whisper hoarsely. “Don’t stop. Show me how you make yourself come.”
“Yes,” she sighs. “Yes.”
My pulse spikes as I watch the tip of her pink tongue slides over her lips. The woman is absolutely soaked… flooded with desire.
Something primal wakes from deep within me—a familiar, confident part of myself. In work and in life I can be assertive. I’ve never particularly been like that with women. Or have I?
A memory of fucking a nameless prostitute up against a wall flashes through my mind. I’ve always been able to tell a hooker what I want and how I want it. Actually, even then I’ve been in control—I merely limited my activities.
Not now, however.
Now I want what I want.
Renata is making faint, sexy sounds, kind of a cross between soft sighs and moans. Every muscle she has is taut and ready. Her pelvis arches and her hips tilt upwards like a flower reaching toward the sun. Renata’s dark inner core is searching for a man’s cock.
“You’re really close, aren’t you?” I ask. I don’t know how I know it with such certainty—I just do.
“Yes, yes,” she says as her fingers work faster. “I’m right there—”
“Stop masturbating. Stop now,” I order her.
An incoherent whimper of protest comes from her lips. Her busy hand pauses… waiting, trembling.
“I want you to use the fingers of both hands to spread your pussy wide open for me,” I say. “I need to see what you look like. I want to see it all. I need to see everything.”
Biting her lip, a frown on her face, Renata says nothing but she does as I ask.
She holds the outer lips of her pussy open wide and I marvel at how engorged and plump her sex is. Her flesh is pink, soft and swollen. Her slit and thighs glisten with her slick essence. The sheets are damp from her arousal.
I lean in closer, studying her intently. I’m in no hurry.
A long, still moment hangs between us.
Renata shifts restlessly and she makes a sound, something like a helpless whimper. Does she enjoy the very close, personal attention I’m paying her? Does she like being on display?
I stare, totally focused—totally fascinated.
I intend to look at her for as long as I like. Renata’s sweet, feminine body is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Her tight, closed channel has opened like a budding flower. It’s a gaping ring—it’s grown larger. It started out so much smaller.
I swear that her empty, feminine hole is begging for it.
Begging for me.
Fuck, I really want to give it to her. The way I feel, I’d fuck her so hard she wouldn’t be able to walk for a week.
Chapter 19.
“We cannot selectively numb emotions, when we numb the painful emotions, we also numb the positive emotions.”
― Brené Brown
~~~
Grant Wilkinson
Renata continues to hold the folds of her sex wide open so I that can see everything she has. Her sweet, feminine musk perfumes the air. I inhale sharply, savoring the heady scent of her arousal. She smells divine and her dark hole glistens. I want to put my tongue right at her entrance and push it inside.
I get down on my knees before her, still concentrating all of my attention between her legs.
“Christ,” I whisper harshly, releasing a breath of air that I didn’t know I was holding. “You’re so beautiful.”
I've never touched or tasted a woman. Except for once with Renata, all of my sexual experiences have been quick and hidden by darkness.
The prostitutes I’ve been with used lube because they weren’t turned on. Renata’s turned on. In fact, she’s drenched.
Renata shifts restlessly.
“Don’t move,” I growl, surprising myself with the forcefulness of my command.
I swear that her erect clit is actually pulsing. How fucking hot is that? Bending as close as I can without actually touching her, I blow a long stream of warm air on the sensitive, exposed flesh of her sex.
“Oh my God!” she cries.
Renata’s body flexes in an involuntary spasm, sending a blast of heat through me. I watch, fascinated, as a wave of goosebumps rises across her skin. Her hips arch, her legs shake and she trembles with the pleasure of her near release.
I drink her in, the sight, the smell and the sound of her uneven breathing. The woman is clearly in a state of erotic desperation. This is the first time I’ve felt so completely in control during sex. What I’m doing with Renata—it isn’t about me.
A heady rush of joy flows through me—crashes through me. I experience a torrent of sensations as powerful as the Mississippi after weeks of rain. I’m giving her pleasure, yet her pleasure is mine. I love it! This is so much more potent than any sexual experience I’ve previously had. This is erotic and sensual. Until now it’s only been sex, nothing more.
It’s wonderful! And I’m not going to let it end anytime soon.
My heavy erection pulses. I stroke it, to ease the ache—but I don’t care about that. It’s not that I don’t want to fuck her, I do. Mind and body, I want her fiercely. The woman is smoldering—she makes me hot as hell. Yet, the only interest my dick holds for me right now is how it affects Renata.
She is the object of my complete focus.
“You want my cock, don’t you?” I ask.
“Yes! Grant, yes… I want it so badly!” she gasps shamelessly, with half-closed eyes and ragged breaths. Her fingers tremble as they hold her folds wide apart for me, but she doesn’t move them.
“Then ask me nicely. Tell me what you want.”
“Grant, will you please make me come?” she asks in a voice thick with desperation.
“Yes, but I want to play with you first.”
Her tormented wail of disappointment fires my blood. I gaze at her, drinking her in while floating on a huge, euphoric high. I’ve aroused her and I’m giving her pleasure. In pleasing her, I’ve never been so pleased in my life
She’s lovely—so wanton and utterly frantic. Open and exposed, Renata has willingly given herself to me.
In this perfect moment, she is completely mine. I own her—body and soul. A wicked smile tugs at my lips.
I also own her orgasms.
There’s no way she gets to climax unless and until I allow it.
What a rush!
I’ve never ridden a woman bareback before and Renata’s given me permission to do so with her. We’ve both been tested and she’s on birth control. I long to bury myself deep within her heat. What will it be like to have my naked flesh rubbing against hers?
I fist my cock while I imagine taking her without a condom. She’d be soft and tight, maybe like heated velvet or silk.
“Show me how you finger-fuck yourself,” I growl with savage need. “Fuck your empty hole for me.”
Renata’s lips part and she moans loudly just from hearing my command. Intense pleasure fills me as she drives two digits immediately inside of her greedy opening, penetrating herself in an action that mimics intercourse.
“Yes, that's good—very good. Now, play with your clit. That’s right,” I murmur, pumping my cock harder and faster as she immediately obeys my command. “I like seeing that. You're so fucking hot!”
Something’s changed between us. It's hard to define, but it's there. What is it? There’s been a shift in power and authority. I was uncertain and ashamed, but now I’m confident.
Up until now, I'd only give in to my
base urges when they proved too to be much for me. Partners were nameless, faceless and nondescript. A woman was a hole that I paid to climax into. Afterwards, I'd be filled with revulsion at what I'd done, hating myself for my weakness.
I never allowed myself to enjoy the act.
Fuck! No wonder. It was always so empty and shameful.
In life and particularly during sex, I cut off from emotion. I refused to connect to others as a form of self-protection. Heart and soul, I shut down. In this moment, I don’t feel any of that.
In this moment, I’m completely absorbed in Renata. I swear I feel what she feels. We’re so close—there’s no distance between us at all. We are connected.
It’s her.
It’s us.
Renata brings me to this place—she gives me peace and silences my mind. I have no doubts, no shame. I’m not second-guessing myself. I’m focused on Renata and her pleasure is my own.
This, what we’re doing now, it’s not about me.
The woman is lost, dazed by lust. She’s desperate. Mindlessly, she begs and pleads, wanton in her desire for me. I’m intoxicated with sensations I've never known before.
Raw need claws at me, but for now, I ignore it. My body craves her. My heart races, but I’m the one in control. I’m the one who tells her what to do and what I want.
I like it. I like it a lot.
“You’re very, very wet,” I say.
“Yes!”
“Why are you so wet?” I ask innocently, while enjoying her frustration and pent-up need. I'm drunk on my newfound power, and I’m loving every second of it.
“Because you’re driving me crazy!” she bites out.
“You’re going to come very hard, aren’t you?”
“Hell, yes!”
“Not yet. You can’t come yet. Not until I allow you to,” I warn her darkly.
“What?” she wails. “Seriously? C’mon, Grant.”
“No.”
“Why?” she whines.
I frown and consider my answer. I need to slow the pace down so I can savor this time with her. I don’t want to miss a thing.
“Because I want to see it and feel it when you do,” I explain.
“Fine!” she snaps, and I grin at how pissed-off she is. “Enough already! You can see and feel it right now. Please, may I come?”
“No.”
Renata bites back a scream of frustration. I bite back a laugh.
Her features are pinched with effort. Both of her hands have stopped moving so she doesn’t climax. Snarky as she is, I can tell she’s also loving this. So am I. I’m keeping her just on the razor’s edge of orgasm. It’s a sexy, erotic form of torture. Watching her experience this excruciating bliss is fun.
“Spread your beautiful pussy open for me again,” I tell her.
An inarticulate sound of misery comes from her throat and this time I almost laugh. I have no idea why she’s going along with this, but she is. The poor woman is dripping. She’s hungry for my cock, but she’ll settle for sexual release.
“That’s right. Use both hands. Good,” I say, hypnotized by the sight of her. If anything, her sweet sex is even more red and swollen. “You really want me to fuck you, don’t you?”
“Yes, please!” she whimpers, a feminine sound of need.
Renata’s whole body is quivering with need. She’s fighting her desire—trying not to orgasm, but she keeps holding herself open for me, exactly as I’ve ordered her to do.
“Not yet,” I say, and I mean it.
Chapter 20.
"Life in Lubbock, Texas taught me two things: One is that God loves you and you're going to burn in hell. The other is that sex is the most awful, filthy thing on earth, and you should save it for someone you love."
— Butch Hancock
~~~
Grant Wilkinson
“Look at me, darlin’,” I say, trying to hide the overwhelming surge of love I feel for her with a tone of command.
Her eyes lock onto mine as a surge of carnal energy passes between us. Renata’s lips part to inhale deeply. I adore the passion that’s reflected in her face and on her flushed, voluptuous body. There’s such urgency in her expression.
“Good girl. I want to put my fingers inside you, but I don’t want you to climax yet. Will you do that for me?”
Her eyes silently beg me as they blaze with raw hunger. “I don’t know… if I … can,” she says, breathlessly.
“You can,” I assure her. “If you do, I promise to lick your luscious cream up with my tongue. I’ve never tasted a woman and I really want to taste you.”
Renata whimpers a soft, sweet plea.
She likes that idea, knowing that I’ll be her first. I love the way her body responds to my voice. How Renata responds to me.
“Do you want my tongue inside your hot little cunt?”
Her entire body shudders. “Oh, oh, oh, please!” she begs in a hoarse, throaty rasp.
“Shhh, shhh, darlin’—I’ll take care of you,” I soothe.
I’ve never said the word ‘cunt’ out loud ever. It’s a bad word, a crass and vulgar word, but right now it seems damned near perfect. It must sound perfect to Renata too—judging by the violent response that word triggers. Unless she got hot from the idea of me tonguing her. Maybe it’s both?
“We’ll start with my fingers. Don’t move and don’t come,” I say firmly. She’s still meeting my focused gaze.
When I put my left hand on her thigh, I receive a jolt of erotic sensation. Jesus, her flesh is burning hot and impossibly soft under my palm. I can’t believe I’m touching her
Eyes on hers, I lick two of my fingers thoroughly.
Renata has small, feminine hands. My hands are much larger—my fingers are callused, blunt and thick, much different than her own soft, slim digits. In fact, every single part of her body is deliciously different. So familiar, yet so foreign.
Panting quietly, Renata watches as I slowly lower my fingers and shove two of them inside her snug inner channel.
“Oh, God,” she moans and thrashes, frantic and needy.
Have you ever heard the saying, ‘like a hot knife through butter?’ Well, this is what they’re talking about.
Renata’s soft, slick cunt is easy for my fingers to penetrate, and it sucks them deeply inside her. Her arousal has made her more than ready. The scorching heat inside her blows my mind. Her beautiful sex quivers and her inner walls pulse around my fingers. I adore how forcefully the muscles of her core squeeze me.
Tight as a silken fist.
Even more blood pounds into my groin. I briefly imagine how it would feel to have my swollen shaft where my fingers are—with her inner walls milking and pulsing against the sensitive head. Her cunt is desperate for my cock and my cum.
I gasp as an even stronger spasm of erotic sensation races through my thighs, dick and balls.
I let my fingers remain motionless inside of her and bite back a raw, hungry groan. I want that sensation badly, but it doesn’t matter. Renata's pleasure is my sole focus.
Her breathing quick and shallow, Renata squirms.
“Be still,” I chide her. “Just lie there and let me feel you.”
Heavy-lidded, her pupils flare with lust, dilated almost to blackness. Her cunt trembles and clenches around my fingers. She’s so turned on. Unable even to speak, she whimpers pitifully. I love it! I love how she valiantly tries to meet my gaze. I can tell it’s a struggle for her.
Her toes are curled and her face is closed up tight with her efforts to avert her climax.
I can’t take my eyes off of her.
“Jesus, that’s what you needed, isn’t it?” I ask her. “The feel of my fingers inside you.”
“Yes! Your fingers, your mouth, your cock—I want all of you,” she cries out.
“You’re squeezing me so tightly,” I marvel. “This is what your pretty little cunt did to me the day before yesterday, when my cock was deep inside of you.”
Renata’s inner walls puls
e once more. Restlessly, she squirms and moans. Is she going to come? Motionless, I wait, while studying her. My eyes travel over her ripe, needy body. I give her a moment to compose herself.
Fuck, she’s hotter than an M16, after firing off two hundred rounds.
“Do you want to feel my tongue on you? Do you want me to lick your wet little cunt now?
“Yes, yes!” she whimpers.
“Then ask me nicely. Tell me what you need.”
Her blue eyes blaze with desire. “Please, Grant, please, will you lick my pussy and make me come?”
“Yes,” I say huskily. “Look at me. I need to see your face, I need to see it when I push you over the edge. Will you do that for me?”
“Yes, Grant,” she sighs.
My gaze still on hers, Renata’s eyes widen as I generously moisten my lips. Smiling, I bend forward. She inhales sharply as I put my mouth over her erect clit. Pressing tightly, I seal my lips over her quivering bundle of nerves, creating a vacuum. I suckle her slippery nub, pulsing my tongue hard against her.
Renata’s whole body stiffens and her eyes squeeze shut. For one long, breathless moment, everything suddenly stops. Is she paralyzed? Frozen with pleasure?
“Grant!” she suddenly calls out on a half-sob.
Renata’s eyelids flutter, opening and closing until her fierce, sex-glazed gaze returns to mine. She’s struggling, she can’t hold it back any longer. I want to see her come—I need to see it all.
I should give my verbal approval to allow her to climax, but my tongue is still busily working her quivering clit. Pumping in and out, I curl my fingers upward.
Her reaction is instantaneous.
She suddenly explodes, erupting into a violent climax. Her head thrashes from side to side. Her body bows and her inner walls convulse, clamping down hard, crushing my fingers inside of her. I inch back to watch her sex quiver with the force of her orgasm.
“That’s right, darlin’,” I gasp, shocked by the ferocity of her reaction. “Good, good, that’s right, come on my fingers. Let me feel it.”
Impulsively, I push my tongue inside of her, joining my soaking digits. Her hot, musky essence floods my mouth. My nostrils flare and I utter a low, guttural groan.