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The Tumble – Chapter 25

The Tumble with Text

I flung open the front door with wild abandon.  His gaze climbed from the floor straight to my face before an unbelievably sexy grin spread across his lips.  I swallowed hard, took one step forward and kissed him on his cheek.  His gaze dropped toward the floor again shyly before he stepped forward bracing an arm to hold the door.  Having nowhere to go I simply turned and stepped back inside allowing him to get a full view of my bare legs, the boy-cut shorts hugging my amble booty and my Yankees T.  I sucked in my breath and thought nervously about all of my body flaws before pushing them to the far side of my mind.  I was going to be daring and portray a confidence I did not feel.  I read that somewhere, sometime ago; men were attracted to women who were not hung up on their flaws.  I aimed to test the theory.

I turned, walked around him and engaged the locks, sauntered into my room and sat on my bed.  He followed me in as if it were the most natural move in the world, as if he’d done so a thousand times before.  This was uncharted territory for me and yet why did I feel so natural with him?  He stood in front of me, placed his hands on either side of my face, stroking his thumbs across my cheek.  I looked up at him with the innocence of a first time lover.  The desire and passion reflected in his eyes were like magnets to my own, pulling him toward me.  My hands found a home at the side of his bony hips and when he finally kissed me my fingers curled around the folds of his long tee shirt.

“Damn.  I knew you would taste good Catrina.” He voiced huskily as he pulled away from me.

I had no verbal response beyond an audible sigh.

He started talking and moving though I couldn’t recall what he was saying.  My eyes followed his face and his lips.  I noted the veins in his hand, the way his hair was cropped to his skull, his almond eyes, the tenor of his voice producing an instant effect.  I craved the feeling of his lips against mine.  His movements fascinated me like a butterfly would a cat.  I felt like I’d never known a man before him, like they were all a sheer waste of my time, my gifts, my essence and at long last I’d found the one who would cleanse me and make me feel reborn.

He moved to the end of the bed and started removing his clothes all the while still talking, still natural.  I started picking up some words, the train, delays, odd homeless man fighting and then he threw his head back and laughed freely while peeling off his socks.  When he was through all that remained was his white cotton tank and silk boxers.  He looked at me intently, like only a tiger would and padded back around to where I had been sitting on the other side of the bed.  My heartbeat slowed, time crawled, desire became a tangible thing that ensnared us both.

He bent toward me using his fingers to tangle my hair pulling me closer to him.  I opened my legs and he positioned himself in-between. His kiss was a promise of the lovemaking to come and I was as certain of his performance as he seemed to be of mine.  He leaned toward me and I used my hands to row me further onto the bed.  He never broke from me.  He kissed me right into the pillow and then gently lay atop me using one hand to brace himself and the other to lightly caress my side.  Once he reached the bottom of my shirt he gently slipped his fingers underneath.  The feel of them against my bare belly made me suck in my breath and arch my back.  He took that as a signal and pulled my shirt up to my neck cupping my full breast with his hand.

“Oh my God you even have the areola just the way I like them, dark brown.”  He exclaimed before dipping his head and licking my naval all the way to the top of my breast before devouring them one at a time.

My body’s reaction was an instant river.  I couldn’t process everything that I was feeling and I ceased to think.  I only felt.  Every touch from his kiss to his fingers to his tongue was a sensation I had been longing for.  Every other touch by comparison was an impression of something much more concrete.  Don’t get me wrong, I had been worked over before but this experience could only be defined as singular.  It was both tender and rogue, foreign and familiar.  Slaves were made this way.  He was intoxicating and I felt thrilled and terrified of losing something I hadn’t yet fully grasped.  This was nothing close to what I’d had before and I shuddered to think of what I would I do to keep it?

My fingers entwined themselves in his hair as he un-suckled my breast and came for my mouth. I transferred all the wild raw emotion into my kiss and he swallowed and returned it with equal fervor.  Tit for tat one might say.

He pulled back from me and gently inched off my shorts.  I raised my hips to make it easy.  He smiled and pulled off his tank.  I smiled, raised my torso, pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it to the side.  Check and Mate.  I was naked and vulnerable with all my perfection and flaws for him to witness under the soft glow of my night lamp.  If I was waiting for him to cast a disappointing look then I would be the one undone.  He took in every inch of me from face to toe before his eyes dropped to half mast heavy with the wanting of me.

I completely surrendered.

“You know Catrina, the way you’re looking at me now, it’s like I can do anything to you.”

I was shocked.  Was he incredibly perceptive or was I that transparent?  I didn’t care.  All I know was I wanted him inside of me now.

He slipped off his shorts.  I didn’t see what he was packing but I knew instinctively that it would be all that I would require and then some.

He lowered his lips onto mine and kissed me deeply.  He kissed my breasts and maneuvered his tongue along the contours of my torso until he reached the sweet spot.  He sampled me and smiled.

“You taste so good baby.”  He whispered before settling in and lapping me up like I was a bowl of peaches and cream.

Usually I’d be so self conscious, so un-relaxed, so uncomfortable whenever a guy would go down on me but with my honey brown skinned boy I couldn’t get enough.  His touch was the key to the opening of my heart, mind, body and soul.  Resistance was futile.  

When he came back up for air after what seemed like hours I thought he would request subtly that I return the favor but instead he kissed me wildly.  I could taste myself on his lips and he was right, I did taste good.  I could tell he liked that, that I didn’t balk at kissing him.  This turned him on and he rubbed himself against me.  He was hard, thick, and long.  He was perfect.

I arched my back, the only indication necessary and it wasn’t lost on him.  He inched himself inside of me and as wet as I was, it was still a tight fit but damn he felt so good.  We rode the ecstasy train together.  I couldn’t tell whether the sounds of pleasure were coming from him or I.  I wasn’t a terribly vocal lover but whatever I knew myself to be before him I could simply erase.  Nothing between us was connected to any past behavior.  This was alien in the most poetic fashion.

Nothing in my past prepared me for this moment, for this boy, for this tiger.  And after we came together he gently slid to my side to rub his fingers along my back and lie beside me satisfied and spent.  There was no TV, no radio, nothing but the sound of our breathing.  I’d been made love to with the lights on, something that would generally require a lifetime of trust.  We were entwined still warm and flushed and naked.  A few minutes later he propped himself on his elbow, touched my face and kissed me passionately, reigniting the embers within.

“I didn’t get enough of you.  I want more.”

If I had my way I’d never stop.

I knew that nothing in my life could ever be the same.

 

 

 

 

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