It's All Relative(6)
He smiled when he saw her, relief over her showing clear on his face. She walked up to him, as seductively as her drunken steps allowed, and tossed her arms around his neck. Their lips reunited, cold from the outside weather, but warming with their hot breath and needy, frantic movements. His hand slipped inside her trench coat while hers ran though his hair. She groaned when his palm cupped her bottom. If only their clothes weren’t in the way.
“Where?” she asked, her voice low and seductive. His response was a rough grunt as he started pulling her up the street.
It was the longest couple of blocks that Jessie had ever walked with someone. It didn’t help their progress any that they often stopped to lean against walls or railings, or in some cases, shop windows. And it didn’t help that every time he pressed against her, he seemed to be even harder, even more ready for her. And God, was she ready for him too.
Just as she was considering pushing him into an alley and having her way with him right there, he pulled her toward a flight of steps leading up to an apartment building. He fumbled in his jacket for his keys, his mouth still firmly locked on hers. Somehow he managed to open the entryway door and step inside. They walked into a nearby elevator, and Jessie immediately began taking off his jacket. As the metal contraption lifted them into the air, he pressed her against the back wall and nuzzled her neck.
His jacket in one hand, he pulled her out of the elevator when it dinged open. As she leaned against him, rubbing the front of his jeans, he tried to unlock his door without closing his eyes. Grunting in frustration, he nearly broke the door in his eagerness to open it. Jessie gasped when he roughly pulled her through it, and then groaned when he immediately closed the door and pushed her back against it.
After her coat was ripped off, Jessie unslung her bag and tossed it somewhere into the apartment. His hands moved over her body, clenching and unclenching the fabric of her dress like he wanted to tear it off her as well. Eyes and voice needy, he exhaled, “God, I want you.”
Alcohol, anticipation, excitement, and a surge of lust rushed through her. “I want you too.” Bringing her fingers to the waistband of his jeans, she muttered to herself, “God, I hope you’re packing. I don’t need another Jeremy.”
He only had time to murmur, “I…um…”, before she had his jeans unzipped and her hand inside his underwear. Much to her relief, he was hard, thick, and delightfully sized. “Oh, thank God,” she breathed. Her philandering ex-boyfriend had frequently been none of those things.
He laughed deep in his throat, then attacked her mouth. Pulling her away from the door, he flicked on a light switch and led her deeper into the apartment. Mouths still connected, they walked through what looked like a small kitchen area into a room that Jessie assumed was the living room. She didn’t really know, and she didn’t really care. When they stopped moving, Jessie removed his shirt. Tossing it on the shaggy carpet, she eyed his wonderfully colored skin. Much to her surprise and delight, there was an intriguing black tattoo coming over his shoulder and swirling down to his collarbone. Jessie traced the dark design, then placed a soft kiss at the ending point of one of the swirls. He made a pleased noise in the back of his throat as he began to unzip her dress. The rest of his chest was as fit as his arms, and Jessie lightly ran her fingernails down the firm muscles, making him shudder. Once he was done with the deceptively long zipper of her dress, Jessie shrugged it off her shoulders, and let it fall to a heap at her feet.
Pausing, he took a moment to enjoy the sight of her scantily clad body; her lacy black bra and underwear matched the heels she was still wearing. After his thorough inspection, he popped off his shoes and quickly pushed down his jeans. Jessie bit her lip as she breathlessly watched him. She felt like every inch of her was burning with need, and she was going to explode soon if he didn’t satisfy the ache. When he was just in black boxer-briefs, he reached out and pulled her forward. She stumbled into his body and then crashed into his lips. Catching her off-guard, he suddenly shifted and twisted her around. With a cry of surprise ready on her lips, Jessie lost her balance and they began to fall. Just as she braced herself for impact on the hard floor, they landed on a soft, springy mattress.
Looking around, Jessie noted that his apartment was a studio—everything but the bathroom was enclosed in one giant room—and they were safely resting on a mattress in the middle of the far wall. Just a mattress. No headboard, no box spring, no bed frame to raise it off the ground. The rest of the large room was an assortment of opened and closed boxes; he really had just gotten into town. Just as she thought to comment, he settled himself between her thighs, and finally pressed that wonderfully full manhood against her. She wouldn’t have cared if they were screwing on the floor after that.
The feeling of him being so close to where she needed him had her squirming in anticipation; the scant fabric of their underwear barely separated their needy flesh. With a throaty groan, he moved his hips against her as rhythmically as he had in the club. His soft mouth placed languid kisses down her jawline, then her throat. While Jessie gulped down air, his marvelously soft lips traveled down to her bra. He kissed her once, through the fabric, then gently moved the lace aside. Her nipple peaked as her breast was exposed to the cooler air, and Jessie moaned in delight when his hot mouth closed around it. His tongue swirled around the nipple, his teeth lightly tugging, and she arched against him as she writhed in torturous bliss. Yes, more.