In light of the freezing weather I’ve been suffering through this past week, I needed something to warm me up.
***
It was late August, the grass had slowed it’s growing but the days were still long and thick with heat. I was in my garage, finishing a painting project, and humming along to the old general electric clock radio. Sweat rolled down my neck, between my shoulder blades, and under my breasts. Normally I would have waited for a cooler day to do the work but he was arriving on Friday and I didn’t want anything work related hanging over my head during our precious four days together.
I was standing with my back to the wide open garage door, letting the scant breeze catch my damp skin as I decided which piece to tackle next. I noticed a change in the light and looked over to see a man-shaped shadow on the floor next to me.
“You missed a spot.”
A thrill went down my spine at the sound of those four words, quietly but smugly uttered in the unmistakable timbre that I’d know anywhere. Smooth and cool and low with a tone that drilled right to my cunt, whether it was delivered in a whisper or a laugh or a command.
I spun around to face him, beaming from ear to ear.
“You aren’t supposed to be here until tomorrow! What happened?” I said, quickly walking over to him as I realized we’d been 10 feet from each other for 20 seconds and I hadn’t touched him yet.
“My meetings today got cancelled so I managed to get an earlier flight” he said, as he let go of his bag and slid his right hand around my left hip.
“You should have called, I could have met you at the airport….be careful, I’m all painty” I sighed as he slid his left hand around my right hip and stepped into me.
“I wanted to surprise you” he murmured before wiping the stupid grin off my face with his lips…and tongue…and teeth. God he tasted so good, earthy and familiar and promising. I dropped my brushes to the floor with a clatter, breathlessly and fruitlessly wiping my hands on the back of my cut-offs before slipping my fingers into his hair and pulling it into my fists, exactly the way I knew he liked, confirmed by the low growl I felt more than heard as he kissed me.
“I love surprises,” I gasped as he lowered his head to bite the base of my neck.
“I know,” came the wet whisper in my ear, followed by his tongue and quickening breath. My panties were immediately wet. Hot breath, his breath, in my ear always sent shivers right down to my clit.
I broke away from him slightly, “Want to go in the house?” I asked as I stepped back to lead him to the door.
“Why? I want you now.”
“Here?” I asked dubiously. I glanced around the dusty garage even as a thrill danced along my spine.
“OK” I grinned, leaned in for a quick kiss then turned to go pull down the overhead door.
“No.”
“No, what?”
“Leave the door.”
“But…it’s the middle of the day, anyone could come by..” I feebly attempted.
“Come here.”
I shivered, that tone, that command, I could never say no. Never wanted to. I walked toward him, my nipples already pressing through my thin tank top.
“Did you miss me?” he asked, pushing my back against the work bench, slipping his hands under my top to run them up my sides and skate his thumbs from the bottom swell of my breasts, up over my ever-hardening nipples.
I sucked in a breath “You know I did. I’m so happy you came early.” I leaned forward to whisper in his ear, licking the salty trickle of sweat just below his lobe, sending my own shivers down his spine, I hoped.
I could feel the hardness of his erection pressing through his jeans and my cut-offs, begging to be let out of its confines. I reached down to free him, popping the button then sliding the zipper down in a quick hiss.
I kissed him deep as I reached my hand under the elastic of his briefs to wrap my fingers around his smooth, swollen cock. I smiled against his lips as he sucked in air.
“Try and keep an eye out for neighbors,” I instructed, as I slid down to my knees between his body and the work bench. He kept one hand in my hair and braced himself with the other against the smooth wood worktop.
After swirling my tongue around the tip of his cock, I rubbed the saliva-wet head over my lips, then looked up at him, all innocence, “Did you miss me?”
I didn’t wait for his reply as I opened my lips and slid him all the way to the back of my throat. His strangled “yes” would have made me smile if I weren’t concentrating on breathing and swallowing in a steady rhythm.
He’d only just arrived so I knew he wouldn’t let me make him come so soon. After a few more swallows, I backed off to gasp for air and he pulled me up to standing, so fast I got lightheaded. Then he kissed me, long and deep and searing. Stealing the breath I’d been trying to catch.
As we kissed, he popped the buttons on my shorts. “Sit here.” He said as he shoved aside a can of paint and a stack of brushes. I hopped up onto the worktop, now eye-to-eye with him as I sat and he stood. He pulled my shorts down around my thighs, kissing me deeply as he ran his hands across my damp skin, his fingers dipping under the lace edge of my panties, burning him surely, I was so hot.
Feather light, he stroked his knuckles over my clit, through the fabric of my underwear. I was drunk on the heat, his mouth, the lazily building frenzy of what his knuckles were doing. I rested my forehead on his shoulder, my hands gripping the back of his neck, his arm, trying to stay steady and enjoy the ride, not get too greedy (I was always greedy).
He kept the rhythm going with his knuckles, I wasn’t sure how much more of the barely-there strokes I could take. I’m certain I started to whimper, when I felt him slide his other hand up to stroke the back of my head, then he wrapped my ponytail around his fist and yanked my head back, exactly the way I liked, so I was looking at him. The force made me smile at him and close my eyes. I leaned forward for a kiss and could feel him pull back.
“Open your eyes,” he said, low and meaning it.
I did and he kissed me, quickly, briefly, once as he twisted his fingers under the edge of my panties and finally, finally, thank God, touched me. I jumped a little at the intensity of the sensation after the feather strokes, but smiled and closed my eyes again in a wave of pure joy as he slithered around my wet folds, stroking slowly, never quite touching my clit, but teasing around the edges.
“No. Open your eyes,” he growled. I did as instructed and found myself looking right into his, glittering in the dark garage. He kept stroking, stroking, it was becoming hard to focus. “Look at me. Keep them open, if I see you close them, I’ll stop touching you, do you understand?”
I nodded, my own eyes not leaving his face. Suddenly, he changed his rhythm and plunged his fingers deep inside me. I cried out, slapping my own hand over my mouth as I remembered the open door. With the previous gentle torture, the deep penetration (and his evil, satisfied smile) nearly sent me over the edge. When his thumb touched my clit, I groaned and my eyelids fell involuntarily. Immediately he pulled his hand away and my eyes flew open.
“No!”
“I told you…”
“I’m sorry, I promise, I couldn’t help it,” I pleaded, looking into his eyes and trying to pull myself towards him.
“Are you going to do what I say this time?”
I nodded, solemnly, desperately, my eyes never leaving his.
He reached toward me again, this time, slowly, slowly slipping one, two, three fingers inside me, beckoning me, leisurely, to come. I was desperately trying to focus on him, though rational thought was failing me. He pressed his thumb to my clit and began to slide it around and over in time with this fingers. I was panting now, whimpering, but looking at him. I was getting closer and I could tell he could feel it. His eyes were getting darker and his breathing was getting ragged…I guessed I wasn’t the only one struggling to hold on.
As my orgasm welled up, I had to work to keep my eyes open, but it was a little bit of magic watching his eyes change as I started to writhe and gasp. The wave came and I convulsed around his fingers, jerking and bucking as I held onto his shoulders, though by now we seemed tethered by our gaze. I leaned forward and rested my forehead on his.
“Good girl,” he said, as he slid his fingers out of me. I grabbed his now wet hand and held it tightly, wanting to hold onto myself there. He kissed me, sweetly, deeply. Now, I knew, I could close my eyes.