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What's Your Fantasy	By : Beaverhausen13 Category: 1 through F > Friday the 13th: The Series Views: 593 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Friday the 13th: The Series. I make no fundage from this, Bro Namath.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
We wake up before dawn, saying our goodbyes to Jack with Ryan taking him to the airport while the sky is still a deep violet. I take a lengthy shower after they leave, making sure to shave my legs with extra care in preparation for our upcoming evening of fantastical delight. Powder fresh and perfumed, I dress like it’s a regular day and am just opening up the storefront when I see a package on our front stoop. It’s overnighted from Quiara. Huh, I didn’t think I had forgotten anything.
          I’m opening the box as Ryan returns through the front door, approaching me with an interested expression, “What’s this?” he asks me.
          Inside is a bottle of Cristal and a rather generous chunk of birthday cake in its own separate cake box. Her cake this year was rather amazing, a moist, fluffy white cake with light whipped cream frosting, the interior layers mixed with peaches, “Overnighted from Quiara.” I explain, retrieving the folded note inside and reading it to myself.
          Your piece de resistance for your striptease, little dove. I just needed to unload the cake, so enjoy. Ooh, and don’t forget the lollipop. Love you sissy! ~Quiara
          “Cake and champagne.” I finally say, folding the note and stuffing it into a pocket and away from his eyes.
          He opens the cake box and swipes some frosting with his finger, putting it in his mouth and gifting me with a yummy noise, “Holy shit, that’s delicious. So this is how the other half lives.”
          “A tiny taste of Quiara’s ostentatiousness.” I tease him, kissing his nose, “I’m going to put these in the fridge. Keep an eye on the store until I get back?”
          He pulls me into a deep kiss before releasing me and allowing me to gather the cake box and champagne, “Hurry back. I’ve got a lot to do today.” He smiles mischievously at me as I ascend the staircase.
          I get them both in the fridge and return to his side, “Was that quick enough for you?” I poke at the center of his lower back, right above his ass, and his jump is just delicious. He’s so fucking cute.
          “You follow instruction well. That’ll come in handy later.” His eyes glint as he regains his composure and arousal sweeps over me, “I’ve got to go out and get some shopping done. Any requests?”
          “Ice for the champagne.” I tell him, “The rest is all you.”
          He kisses me goodbye and I spend a relatively uneventful morning tending to the few straggling customers with my stomach doing somersaults over what is to come. Ryan returns home by lunch with his arms full of shopping bags and goes upstairs for an extended amount of time until he finally rejoins me in the storefront. About five minutes before we officially close, he grips me firmly by the wrist, leaning in to my ear, “Go to your room and stay there until I knock twice. I’ll take care of locking up.”
          I temporarily lose my ability to breathe as everything sets on fire inside of me, “I’ll need about an hour.” I tell him as I head for the stairs.
          “And you’ll have it, Micki. Just remember what I said and stay in your room.”
          Jesus. Christ. “Could you put the champagne in the ice bucket before you’re ready for me?” I remember, stopping and turning at the top of the stairs.
          “Done. Keep going. Don’t make me tell you again.” He says sternly and I feel like I’m developing a lake down below. I don’t know if he *really* knows what that does to me, ordering me around like that, but he’s already doing everything exactly right.
          I quickly obey and soon am in my room, slipping into the small navy-blue plaid uniform, which consists of a short-sleeved white button-down blouse, vest with gold buttons, short pleated skirt, and suit jacket. Quiara was right, it fits, but just barely. It would have been modest at fourteen, but now that I’m in my mid-twenties, everything’s short and tight. I suppose that’s what I’m going for. It’s not like I’ll be wearing it for very long, anyway. I complete my look with the white knee-high socks and cherry red patent leather Mary Jane heels, arranging my hair in curly red pigtails high on my head and affixing little red bows on each corkscrew curled pigtail that match my shoes. I touch up my makeup, adding a matte red lipstick and a hint of red blush on my cheeks, before pulling back to observe my handiwork.
          I think I did acceptably well. Admittedly, I look pretty sexy. I think Ryan will be happy with this, anyway. I move to the box that held my uniform and reach down for the cherry dum-dum lollipops that Quiara had insisted upon. I unwrap one of them and place the spare on my dressing table, clutching the stem of the dum-dum in my right hand as I pace back and forth in anticipation for his signal. I’m feeling some pretty serious performance anxiety right now, in spite of all my coaching and preparation over the weekend. I try to keep in mind the advice I was given and allow myself to feel as sexy as I look. It’s easy enough when I focus on thinking about how he makes me feel. It seems like forever until I hear two sharp knocks, the cork popping on the Cristal, and the opening strains of Rebel Yell.
          Showtime.
          I slowly open the left French door, shifting my left hand to grasp my lollipop as I put it in my mouth and raise my right arm to grasp the still-closed right door and emerge into the kitchenette, carefully avoiding the doorknob as I slide my back against the door and down, using my shoulders to engage my body in a slow sway. I leisurely circle my hips on the trip back up, sucking seductively on my lollipop and look over at him, sitting on the edge of his cot. Sa-weet holy all of the things. He’s got the spectacles perched on his nose and he’s in a brown striped dress shirt, black skinny tie, and black belted pants with no shoes. I don’t know why I’m so turned on by his bare feet right now, but I allow it to fuel my movements, rolling my torso as I step away from the door and twist to face him. Jesus. His eyes. He’s got that possessed look that never fails to just puddle me. I engage my hips in a side-to-side sway as I stare at him and use my knees to grind my way slowly to the floor. I store my lollipop in my cheek as both hands work on the buttons of the jacket on the way back up, circling my hips counterclockwise and slipping out of the arms as I pulse my torso in another roll. The jacket slips off behind me as I dance my way to the champagne, bending slightly in a pose as I pour some into a glass out of the two positioned on the table next to the bucket and play with the sucker in my mouth, twisting it playfully in my lips and enjoying the sweet candy taste of it. Glass filled, I rise and slink my way directly in front of him, taking a sip before I hand him the champagne.
          That wild, possessed look is very present, but he’s also regarding me with an open-mouthed fascination that gives me a giddy sense of power serving to goad me; my undulating hips twisting me around to put into practice the Andre move, bending over and grasping my ankles, then using both hands to run up my left leg and glance at him over the accompanying shoulder, lollipop firmly planted in my cheek as I rise back to standing and caress my hands over my rolling shoulders and torso. I gyrate around until I am facing him again, my fingers working slowly on the buttons of the vest as I dip low to the ground and twist my way back up, peeling it off and dragging the fabric lightly across his lap. Holy shit, that’s quite the tent he’s pitching. I grab the stem of the sucker that’s been parking in my mouth and grip his shoulder with the other hand as I roll my body slowly into his personal space and insert my cherry dum-dum into his open mouth. He smiles a little at this, but it’s not sweet. It’s predatory and chilling me in the most wonderful way. I move closer and hover over his lap in a straddle, doing a languid, slinking sway as I work my hands slowly down my neck and chest to the buttons of my blouse, flicking them open on my way down. It was too short to tuck in, which I’m grateful for now as it falls open and I run my fingertips up my exposed skin until I reach the fabric of the blouse on my shoulders, bending them and my arms back as it slides off onto his feet.
          God, he’s gorgeous. He’s so fucking sexy in those glasses, and his gaze is heating me everywhere; sucker still hanging in his mouth as his left grips his untouched glass of Cristal. My hands travel down my naked back until they land low with my fingers barely touching the top of my skirt as I roll my torso languorously from back to front, my breasts directly in his eyeline.
          “Liking what you see?” I breathe out as my motions radiate into a hip circle above that painfully present evidence in his lap.
          His right hand reaches up and pulls the dum-dum out of his mouth, “Jesus. Fucking. Christ.” He responds in a low, growling affirmative, rolling the lollipop on the outer curve of my left breast. I feel that twinge me in the incredibly wet area between my legs. Damn.
          I back away from him in another body roll, “No touching or you get the boot.” I tease him as I bend my knees to twist down to the floor a few feet in front of him and ease myself in a side pose, lifting up my leg to go to work on my shoes.
          “No. You’re leaving those on.” Ryan stops me firmly, finally sipping his champagne.
          “Whatever you want.” I manage out, a little shaky in my overwhelming arousal, teasing my fingertips up the length of my raised leg instead and pressing my palms on the floor behind me to arch my back in another pose. I then move in a sort of sensual crawl until I’m rising up on my knees and facing him directly, my hands sliding up the sides of my thighs and traveling to the clasp and zipper on the back of my skirt. I work on them on my trip back up to my feet and my skirt drops to the floor as I rise to full standing and gyrate in another counterclockwise circle, framing my hips with my hands. “So what happens after I get naked?” I ask in almost a whisper.
          “You suck my dick.” He says in another firm, authoritarian tone that drives me into crazed levels of lust.
          Gladly. I give him a flirty, lopsided smile as I retrieve the bottle of Cristal and take a swig directly from it, undulating my way back to him, setting the bottle on the floor next to his bare feet and straddling his lap again. This time I allow myself to settle on his thighs as I circle my hips and loosen his tie, working quickly on the buttons of his shirt until it’s hanging open and moving to the wrists to undo the cuffs and roll up the sleeves on his forearms. I slide off of his lap and focus on the buckle of his belt, unfastening it and making quick work of the button and zipper of his fly, dragging the waistbands of his pants and underwear down and off his legs and setting them to my left as I settle on my knees between his thighs. I grab the Cristal and spill a little on his silky olive-skinned cock, delighting in his hiss before taking a little more champagne into my mouth and descending onto him. Hmm, this is an interesting taste experience, the bubbly, crisp champagne mixing with his delicious masculine essence.
          “*Fuck*.” Ryan groans out as the alcohol slides down my throat and I increase my suction, moving slowly at first but picking up speed and intensity as the minutes tick by. I take pleasure in my attentions, the taste of him turning me into something ravenous. I almost come when he does, swallowing every drop of his orgasm as it torrents into my mouth and he lets out a loud moan that sounds almost angry. “Get back on my lap.” Ryan orders me as my mouth rises from his cock.
          I quickly submit, my hands clutching his shoulders as I sit back on his naked thighs. The left hand still holding his champagne raises up and spills the liquid over my breasts, his mouth following quickly behind to lap it up and making me shiver with how fucking stimulating his touch is. Ooh, this is too good. The bubbles of the Cristal tingle my skin and cool me, immediately followed by the warmth of his lips and tongue kissing and licking the trails of champagne that drip down my chest. I actually come from this alone, moaning and grinding on his lap as he sucks my left nipple into his mouth. “You are so fucking hot. Jesus.” He deposits the sucker he’s been clutching into his now empty champagne glass, placing it on his nightstand, “Stand up and put your right leg over my shoulder.” He instructs me as I’m coming down from my wave of pleasure. I do so as quickly as I can through my haze, the back of my knee hooking onto his left shoulder and my hands gripping his hair to keep my balance as that wonderful mouth tears into me and works all that pussy magic. His hands are on my ass, kneading it as his tongue does a slow circle on my clitoris, feeling so good that I would collapse if he wasn’t holding me up. Soon he’s nipping and sucking on my favorite spot and forcing a ferocious orgasm out of me in practically no time. Ryan laps up the rivers of arousal on my thighs before focusing on regenerating more, diving back in and coaxing me to come again with that ever-so-talented mouth. I can’t help but feel incredibly spoiled. Not only is he just genius at this, but he also disclosed to me that he’s rather addicted to the way that I taste. It’s pretty heady, the knowledge that he craves me like this. So much so that I’m coming again almost immediately after the last orgasm retreated, going completely blind as I tighten my fingers into his locks and vibrate like I’m being electrocuted. In a way, I sort of am. My moans have escalated now into a loud, high pitched sound that borders on a scream. It’s liberating not having to suppress my reactions to what he does to me.
          He’s saying words to me right now, but they’re not registering through my pleasure bubble. Ryan pulls back and unhooks my leg from his shoulder, “I said: lay on your stomach across my lap. Now.”
          Fuck. Me. He helps guide me onto his lap, my legs shaky as I lay on my belly with my head facing toward the foot of his cot and my ass slightly raised in the air. I hear the slip of fabric and gasp as he grips my wrists together and ties them with the end of his necktie, leaving a loose black tail that dangles from the center of my bound hands. He turns toward the other end and I feel him lean down, then hear the sound of his belt being pulled out of the loops of his discarded pants. I’m a little terrified, thinking that he’s going to spank me with it, but he surprises me by gripping my ankles and wrapping the belt around them instead, fastening the buckle once satisfactorily tight enough for his liking. My feet are still slightly apart, but secured enough that it would take a lot for the belt to work its way over my shoes. I squirm a little as I feel his hands slowly glide up the back of my legs to my behind, “Are you going to spank me?”
          “Mm, I think you want me to.” He says lowly, his fingers tracing light elusive patterns on the flesh of my ass and his resurgent erection stabbing my belly, “Such a sexy bad girl. And this delicious body is all mine tonight. Do you remember the safe word?”
          It takes me a second, but it comes back to me, recalling the day of flirtation that ended in a fiery encounter of basement elevator sex in the days when we were still unsure of how the other felt. Seems like a million years ago, even though in actuality it was more like a couple of weeks. “Yes.” I say as I feel his hand come down and lightly smack my right cheek. Fucking A. I turn my head, glancing at him over my right shoulder, his gorgeously bespectacled face grimacing in determination as he raises his hand up higher and comes down on my left cheek. I feel a burning sting as my arousal runs in streams down my thighs. I’m already at Code Red levels of excitement, my naughtiest fantasies being realized without even having to specifically vocalize that this is *exactly* what I wanted. I feel the index finger of his right hand run a trail along the side of my right cheek before his hand comes down hard and sharp, the smacking sound as loud as the sting that resounds on that area. I bite my lip, moaning as my back arches and stomach presses into his cock.
          I feel his left hand slide under me and between my legs as he raps on the other cheek with another sharp slap, “Oh yeah, you like this. You’re so fucking wet. Dirty, dirty girl.” His middle finger caresses my clit as he issues a series of softer slaps, alternating where he hits every time. “Did you like making me think about you the way I did? Beating my dick bloody just to deal with having to sleep so close to you? Did you?” His voice is low and growling, spanks increasing in intensity and finger pressing harder into my clitoris. I can’t answer, because I’m coming violently, just overcome by every bit of this. My orgasm is long and blinding and I do scream full out from the intensity of it, my back arching as I squirm on his lap with full body shakes. Oh. My. Fucking. GOD. “I own you tonight, understand?” He’s stopped spanking now that my orgasm has finally receded and says this firmly as he runs a soothing hand over my stinging behind.
          “Mmm-hmm.” I manage to nod, now draped boneless over his lap. I feel his left hand slide under me and curl around my waist as he leans down, hoists my body over his shoulder, and rises to standing. “Ryan?”
          “I’m hungry.” He says cryptically, travelling to the kitchen table next to the refrigerator and placing my body across the width of it. “Don’t move.” Ryan steps toward my head and raises my bound wrists above me, tying the other dangling end of the tie to the back of the kitchen chair slat behind me. He makes his way in front of me again, lifting my bound legs and bending my knees as he holds me open and licks my arousal from my inner thighs, “Mmm, you just taste like nothing else on Earth. But I feel like a little comparison is in order.” He moves to the fridge and pulls out the cake box, “Let’s start with some cake.” He says, placing the box next to my body and opening it with a sly smile, the light glinting off of his glasses. He’s just the sexiest thing in existence. His hand reaches in the box and pulls out a hunk of cake, placing it along my abdomen and retrieving a mouthful of it, offering it to me, “Open wide.”
          I comply and savor the taste of the moist decadent peachy white cake as it hits my tongue, sucking the traces of whipped frosting from his fingers. The cake on my abdomen feels chilly and foreign and I try not to squirm at the sensation. He pulls back and leans down as his head lowers and he begins to eat the cake off of my body. “Mmm, the cake of the rich.” He says after a swallow. His mouth feels warm and erotic on my skin, his tongue bathing me as he licks off the remnants of frosting. He finishes with the cake and raises my legs again to lap up the arousal that’s moving down my inner thighs. “Yep. You still taste better than the cake. But what about a sundae?” Ryan releases my legs and moves back to the fridge, pulling out a couple of containers, a bottle of strawberry syrup, and a pint of French Vanilla ice cream from the freezer. He grabs a spoon from the silverware drawer and opens the ice cream, spooning a little directly onto my left nipple and making me squeal from the freezing temperature. His mouth follows and cleans it off, warming my skin and arousing me to no end with the extremes of sensation. Then he’s raising my legs again, licking directly onto my vagina this time and making me moan, “Certainly better than just plain vanilla.” Ryan comments as my legs go back down again and he opens one of the containers, revealing pre-cut strawberries, sliced into larger thirds. Another spoonful of ice cream lands on my right nipple, he places a strawberry slice on top, and I bite my lip as I try not to squeal again at the jarring cold causing my nipple to ache painfully. He lets it sit a little while longer before his mouth descends and devours his concoction off of me, the strawberry roughly scraping my nipple before his warm mouth consumes it along with the French vanilla melting from the heat of my skin. His tongue feels incredible, licking and sucking everything away before gifting me with a lingering suckle on my nipple, making me writhe and strain in my bondage. I’m already out of my mind and he hasn’t even entered me yet. Jesus.
          He moves down between my legs again and licks me from bottom to top, circling his tongue ever-so-lightly around my clitoris before lapping at the flowing liquid on my thighs. “Exquisite. Your flavor still wins the taste test, gorgeous.” He gives me another brief, thrilling kiss down there before raising up again and moving to the other container, revealing slices of kiwi fruit, rough skin still intact on the edges. Shit. A dollop of ice cream lands on my left nipple and he places a slice of kiwi on top, “Where are my manners?” He kids me as I wiggle slightly from the chill and pops a slice of kiwi between my lips, the taste pleasant and sweet as I chew carefully, swallowing as his mouth finally leans down and proceeds to clean up his latest feast. The kiwi practically stings against my nipple before it’s devoured along with the dripping ice cream.
          “Fuck.” I breathe out, arching my breast into his teasing mouth. The glasses are a little smudged now, but this just serves to make me hotter. And I’m at DEF-CON 4, as it is.
          He takes a little more time at getting everything up, his tongue laving warm, electrifying trails over my cooled skin, then kissing and sucking me at a snail’s pace. My hips circle involuntarily with my need. He could definitely just breathe on me and I would come at this point. He moves down between my legs again and licks me just once, and I’m coming with a fierce blindness as he kisses me furiously in encouragement. My wrists pull at my anchor as I stiffen and shudder against that magical mouth, crying out in a high-pitched wail. Mmm, he really is the greatest thing ever. I never would have come up with this particular scenario on my own, but obviously it has me thrilled to no end. He licks me softly as my climax makes its exit after lingering for longer than average, “Mmm, still just the absolute best.” He finally raises up, dropping my still trembling legs back down, “But now it’s time for the full sundae. I’ll need a bigger area.”
          Ryan moves to his mini-dessert buffet and spoons out cold, melting ice cream onto my stomach in three dollops, drops a few pieces of strawberries and kiwi on top, and drizzles the strawberry syrup on the whole affair, stepping back a touch to observe me. I pull at my bonds and moan out, “Ryan.” He’s killing me here. I’m aching for him to just fuck me until I lose the fillings in my teeth.
          “Mmm, looks tasty.” He taunts me, still standing a little too far away.
          “Well, then eat it and fuck me. Please.” I gasp out, pulling harder at my bonds and arching my back, causing the melting sundae to slide a little down my belly.
          When he moves in and his mouth begins eating it off, my eyes roll back in my head as the delicious warmth soothes my frozen skin. The fruit scratches against my flesh as he takes them into his mouth one by one, then picks up some of his sundae with the fingers of his right hand and teases it into my mouth. My tongue rolls around the sweet flavors, teeth chewing the fruit as the cool ice cream mingles and slides down my throat. I lick his fingers clean as he continues to devour my tummy sundae, ice cream and strawberry sauce smearing all over his face and glasses. He finally gets the bulk of it off and his tongue bathes warm, sweeping lengths over my sticky skin, making me mental institution ready in my need, arching urgently into him and whimpering helplessly. He lifts my legs again after a thorough cleaning, licking my left inner thigh and the continuous drizzling stream that generates from me in embarrassing abundance. “Mm-hmm, no contest.” Ryan comments as he slips between my legs, leaning in to kiss me for the first time in this particular fantastic encounter. I meet his mouth hungrily, licking at the strawberry and vanilla traces around his mouth.
          His kiss makes me so lightheaded I could pass out. His cock sliding against me jolts me to full awareness, though, and I kiss him as hard as I can in my restraints in response. Yes, please. His hands slide down my sides and he raises up to grab on to my hips, lifting them slightly in the air as he pushes his way inside and alleviates my clawing need in the most gratifying way. Fuckety damn, he’s so delicious, moving into me roughly at about mid-pace, my hips position suspended by his hands hitting a pleasure zone I didn’t even know about. Because of the way he’s gripping me, I’m completely unable to move and am helpless; at his mercy as he fucks me. He is absolutely owning and controlling me right now, and I am loving every single solitary second of it. He moves a little harder and faster and I’m coming immediately, arching and pulling at my restraints, electrified by pleasure and emitting a guttural squeal as I lose my vision. I’m shivering everywhere and wondering if anyone’s ever died from this. I mean, this is one seriously crazy orgasm, here. It takes a little longer for my sight to come back than the usual and I feel him setting my hips down and leaning in to kiss me again before I’m able to see him, messy glasses and cheeks coming into focus as I taste the sweetness of his intoxicating kiss, the open flaps of his dress shirt skimming my body as he slows back down, sliding his hands on my legs behind him, lifting them and folding me in half as he escapes the confines of my bound legs. Holy shit, this feels decadent. I still have zero control over my lower half, but I’m not minding because he’s doing everything exactly right. I’m in excellent hands. He’s moving incredibly slow right now, grinding his hips upward when he’s to the hilt and teasing my lips with the occasional nibble as he continues to grip my bound ankles above my head. The buckle of the belt grazes my bound wrists with every glacial, lengthy thrust. The helpless acceptance of his attentions is driving me quickly toward the edge again. I try to respond the only way I can right now into the kiss, but he’s even controlling that, pulling back from my advances and teasing me before claiming my mouth with full ownership. Mmm, dammit, he’s so fucking hot. Another blinding wave of pleasure tenses me and I let out a loud wail against his lips as my ankles strain into his grasp. I feel him shift them to the left shoulder after he pulls his mouth away from mine and rises back to standing, closing my legs as he goes from zero to sixty and starts slamming into me hard and fast. Jesus. Mary. Could I go permanently blind from this? I would be more concerned if this didn’t feel like absolute heaven.
          Nonetheless, it’s a while before I can see again, because I cannot stop coming. Just when one retreats, another is crashing down upon me and keeping me firmly planted in this vibrating state of pure energy, yanking as hard as I can on my tied wrists above me. He allows me to come quite a few times this way; then abruptly pulls out of me, making me cry out from the sudden loss of feeling.
          He shushes me and I feel him reach down and position my body onto my right side as my wrists twist accordingly in their bonds. He brings my legs down from his shoulder to curl against his left hip as my sight finally comes back, just in time to witness him entering me in this new side position. Holy fuck, this is *insane*, hitting me at a thrilling angle that’s exhilaratingly novel as he rams into me rough and hard, left hand anchoring my legs on his hip as the other grips my reddened ass, kneading it and providing the occasional light slap that jolts overwhelming firecrackers of pleasure into my clit. Fuck. I’m forever blessed by his bedroom genius. My bottom half is entirely soaked and continues to produce endless streams into his slamming groin, the most recent smack to my behind triggering yet another series of blinding orgasms that almost unbelievingly feel even better than the last. I feel another smack as he increases his pace, which just adds to and prolongs everything I’m experiencing in this euphoric, fucked-stupid state. I couldn’t even tell you my own name right now, that’s what he’s done to me. Fabulous. So of course…
          “Say my name.” I hear him pant out his order and almost can’t comply because I’m rendered so stupid it doesn’t come to me right away in my miasma. He gives me another slap and slams into me harder, “I want you to scream it.”
          So I do. Loud and long, shuddering with intense pleasure that’s enhanced by his rough efforts and erotic slaps that have no timing, rhyme, or reason, each one a surprise that just underlines how absolutely he’s owning me right now. I mean, I had confidence that he would be wonderful no matter how this went down, but I am *so fucking happy* I wasn’t specific and left my domination in his hands. I love him so fucking much.
          He pulls out of me again and I’m practically crying at the loss, still shuddering mid-orgasm and feeling not seeing him raise my legs, shift me onto my back, and move between my bound ankles; leaning back in for another kiss, passionate and hungry as his cock slides against me, back and forth in the slowest, most teasing way possible. He reaches up and I feel him free my wrists as I’m responding as best as I can to that incredible kiss.
          I almost don’t know what to do with the freedom of movement in my arms for a moment as his hands slide under me to grip my shoulders and his teasing cock finally shoves back inside, but I manage to will them to the back of his head as I lay into his mouth in a desperate response to his kiss, then moving my tongue to the strawberry and vanilla smears drying on his cheeks, licking and sucking him clean as he drives into me hard and deep. I’m almost weeping with gratitude at the sensation of his body pressing into mine. I can’t get close enough to him. I’m also now able to move my hips slightly in our current position and they’re writhing accordingly into each delicious thrust. He halts my cleaning of his cheeks as his mouth forces its way back onto mine, releasing my shoulders and creeping his hands down my sides. They land on my upper thighs under me as he rises back to standing, bringing me with him in our kiss and off the table as my left arm curls around and grabs his shoulder for support and the right tightens on the back of his head.
          The next thing I know, he’s doing an about face, breaking our kiss and commanding, “Hang on to the railing.” I’m reticent to remove my hands from his body, but wouldn’t dare say no. I carefully grab onto the railing behind me one hand at a time. “Hold tight.” Ryan grunts, then just starts jackhammering into me, his grip on my thighs almost painful, but negated by how incredible he feels. I’m coming instantly. My fucking God. Is he ever going to come? He’s showing no signs of stopping or even being remotely close. I will never not be astounded by how long he lasts. *Never* would I have pegged him with this talent before we started this. So while I’m transforming into a human earthquake, he’s practically cool as a cucumber, slamming forcefully into me as if there’s no end in sight. And I’m not saying that this isn’t affecting him. He feels even harder and bigger than normal, and I’ve never had a complaint in that area, so that’s saying a lot.
          Blind, shuddering, and lost in a sea of continual orgasm, it’s not really much of a surprise to me that my grasp on the railing starts to weaken. “I can’t hang on much longer.” I manage to gasp out after the last wail induced by the latest wave of pleasure.
          “Can you put your arms around my neck?” Ryan asks me as he slows down, breaking character with his concern.
          I’m able to do so, one arm at a time as his mouth meets mine again and he twists us slightly, sinking slowly down and easing me carefully onto the floor, one hand on my back as the other forearm supports my bottom under me. Once he has me on the ground, his body covers mine and his hands grip my face as he continues to kiss me hard and thrust into me. Fuuuck. My hands move down and grip the open panels of the top of his shirt, my hips meeting his in grinding circles and my bound ankles resting on his back while he picks things back up and reintroduces that blinding orgasmic goodness. He’s actually pushing so hard that I slide slightly on the floor until he moves his left hand under my shoulder and anchors me under him. Of course, I can’t see this in my new series of orgasms and have to rely on feel, which is just peak wonderful at the moment.
          “You’re a fucking miracle.” I hear him growl out as he breaks our lip lock and kisses across my left cheek, the frames of his glasses grazing my skin. My sweet fucking God. It’s all I can do, but hang on to his shirt, wail loudly, and erupt like Old Faithful. Ryan finally, *finally* starts shaking above me and it feels so amazing that I’m screaming again. He’s slamming into me so hard I might have floor burns on my back tomorrow, but my God, is this worth it. He lets out a furious yell that almost deafens me and stiffens, shoving up hard and deep about four more times as he floods me with his release.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
          That’s all I can think as I black out.
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What's Your Fantasy