Story of Us trilogy 01: TouchStone for Play (20 page)

“Me neither.”

“Well then.” He leans into my face so
close I can hear him breathing. “Maybe, we should intensify that connection
right now?”  He tips his head to the side and scrutinises my face, holding me
in place with what looks a lot like adoration. “Any more questions?”

“No.”

“Are we done?”

I nod yes.

He brushes my bottom lip with his thumb,
the way he always does when our conversation is at an end. “Good. Let’s go to
bed.” He sets me on my feet, plants a kiss on my forehead and leads me into my
bedroom. I have no more questions - for now.

The bedroom is crowded with shadows, only
the light from the kitchen and from outside manages to inch its way into the
room. Ayden moves to the window and draws the curtains, before gently sitting
me down onto the bed. This has been an eventful weekend for all kinds of
reasons, not least of all because of the way he has confided in me: he’s
opening up. The more I hear, the more I want to rescue him; from what exactly,
I don’t know. The one indisputable fact is that he has changed. The man I met
less than a week ago no longer exists, not within these four walls. He is my
Mr. P for Perfect.

“I’m going to make love to you Beth and it
won’t be like this morning,” he utters in the half light. “Stand up.” His voice
is like a hypnotic drug, everything about him is potent and charismatic.

When I stand I can feel his hands moving
upwards from my waist, he’s undoing the remaining buttons on my shirt. This
takes me back to our first night together, how relaxed and passive he was. I
know that feeling, now I’m
his
for the taking.

His beautiful face is partly in shadow and
the light from the kitchen circles his head like a halo. My first thought is to
undress him, but I shelve it. I want him to undress me, to enjoy me the way I
have enjoyed him: to take pleasure not only from physical intimacy but from
total surrender, my surrender.

“Beth,” he whispers with so much
tenderness, it’s like a passing breeze caressing my face.  He peels off my
shirt and lets it fall to the floor, his eyes never leave mine. “I don’t want
you to do anything, let me take care of you.”

He pulls off his grey T-shirt and throws
it across the room, missing the chair. I reach for him but he lowers my hands
and places them next to my hips. I’m not sure I can do this without actually
touching him. He unfastens my jeans and pushes them down to my knees, following
their journey to the floor with a moist tongue. As he does so, his mouth grazes
my navel and then my panties, feather light kisses tickling my skin. My heart
is starting to race, he’s doing so little yet I’m drunk and euphoric. I step
out of my jeans and wait for his sizzling touch.

Nose to nose he raises his right hand and
tips my head to the left; he traces the line of my jaw, paving the way for his
lips. I moan when he finds that spot beneath my ear that connects directly with
my insides. It’s heavenly.

He skims over my mouth and repeats the
process and I oblige him by tipping my head to the right to give him access.  I
close my eyes and savour the sensation. No-one has ever made me feel so
cherished.

His journey of discovery continues
downwards to my breasts; he’s tracing the edge of my bra with his fingertips.
“You have a perfect body. It’s getting so I can’t get through the day without
thinking about being inside it.”

Christ!

He’s lowering my bra straps and I help by
reaching behind and undoing the clip. He catches my bra before it hits the
floor.

“Good reflexes.” I smile, pulling my lips
together to stifle sound before it becomes a giggle.

“You have no idea.” He grins mischievously
and I realise I have my arms across my breasts. I turn my hands around and
place my palms onto his chest, feeling muscles flexing and stirring beneath my
fingers. With dexterous hands he cups my breasts, rubbing his thumbs across my
tender nipples until they are hard to the touch, ripe for tasting. I hold his
head to me and weave my fingers through his hair. I feel the heat coming off
him; he’s melting any cold spots inside me, fanning the flames in my groin.

With me well and truly tasted his attention
shifts; he senses my need for close contact and offers me his mouth. I fist his
hair and feel the dampness at its roots as he holds my face in his vice like
grip and devours me with such ferocity I think I will need reviving. I lower my
arms, reach for his jeans but he takes hold of my hands and wraps them around
my back.

“No, Beth.” Instantly, he releases them
and pushes me slowly backwards onto the bed. I feel his heart beating against
mine and his hands removing my lace panties. It’s all happening like a dream,
like an out of body experience. I can hardly catch my breath.

I’m laying naked beneath him, breathless
and so turned-on he could talk me into an orgasm, but I want him. I need him
inside me, this angel of mine.

He leans up and draws an invisible line
down my body with his right forefinger, from cheek to breast to hip to groin.
His masculine hand cups me and I am shamelessly exposed.

“You’re perfect Beth, in every way.”

His fingers scissor out to spread me and I
hold onto the bedding and push upwards into his hand. I know his stare is
burning into me and searching out my intimate places, and I turn instinctively
and cover my face with my right forearm: it’s too much.

His hand is on my wrist, pulling my arm
from my face. “Don’t hide Beth, you don’t need to hide. Look at me.” I open my
eyes and he’s inches away from my face. “If you want me to stop, tell me.”

I nod, so desperate to be less self-aware
and more accepting of his attention. I want this. I do.

“I want to make love to you, but you have
to want me.”

I take hold of his despairing face. “I
want you Ayden. I want to give myself to you, but, this is so intimate. I’ve
never experienced anything like it before.”

He puts his forehead to mine. “Me
neither.” His hand caresses my face. “We’re both virgins when it comes to
this.” He lifts me off the bed and pulls back the sheets so I can slip under
them. Whilst I crawl inside he takes off his jeans and his boxers and then positions
himself next to me. We’re eye to eye.

My hair folds over his hand and he starts
to speak. “I can’t tell you how much I enjoy being with you, Beth.”

I don’t believe what I’m hearing. These
heartfelt words coming at a time like this?

“And, you know what makes this even more
special?” I nod no, in reply. “You don’t want anything from me. Nothing.” He
kisses me and it’s a long, drawn-out kiss that leaves a sticky residue on our
lips, gluing us together. But it’s only the beginning.

He launches himself at me and his kiss is
so savage I think my lips might bruise. His full weight presses me into the
mattress and I am enveloped in his dark shadow. I feel for features, muscle and
slide my hands down his lean torso; he’s tacky and damp against my palms and
the smell of virile perspiration and cologne makes me light-headed.

I’m parting my legs, to accommodate his
waxy body as he travels southward sucking, nuzzling and ravishing me. I’m
clenching and tugging at the sheets, lost in a myriad of sensations. I don’t
recognise my own voice; I’m hoarse and lusting for his touch, his penetration.

When his head dips below my navel,
everything stops and is captured in a freeze frame. Every muscle inside me
knots in anticipation of his tongue. I want to give myself to him, without
reservations, without fear.

With infinite gentleness he spreads my
folds and prepares to lick my sensitive skin. “I’m going to use my mouth on
you, I want to taste you.”

I’m so aroused by that thought, I forget
to respond. He takes my wordless answer as consent and dips into me. The tip of
his tongue finds my clitoris and I call out involuntarily, while his hands grip
my hips, holding me in place. His breathing is fast and hot on my skin, his
moaning a powerful aural aphrodisiac, taking me to a place of unspeakable joy
and ecstasy.

I lurch into him and let go: every fear,
every bashful moment, every scrap of self-doubt is banished. I tip back my head
and take everything he can give me as he leads me to the point of orgasm.

When his tongue finds its way inside, I
call out his name. “Ay-den” But it’s lost in the deep, guttural roar of primal
hunger coming from him.

“You taste so sweet,” he growls.

With frenzied hands, I pull his head to my
clitoris and start to writhe and groan. “I have to come …”

The tip of his tongue strokes me over and
over and I feel a warmth rushing through me like an electric current: a wave of
indescribable pleasure surges and builds. I climax hard. So shocking is my
orgasm that it scares me. I’m trembling and in a state of shock.

He wraps himself around me and I nuzzle
into his neck, while he rocks me. “Oh Beth.”

When I come down to earth, I can barely
speak.

He’s looking at me with awe. “Welcome
back.”

I manage a shaky smile. “Hi.” I pull him
to me and hold on tight.

“Feeling better?”

“Yes.” I flatten my body against his and
pin him to the mattress, covering his face with kisses, sucking on his ears,
listening to the guttural sounds he makes when he’s aroused. I take his face in
my hands and look down at him. “I’m so glad you’ve found me Ayden.”

“Me too. I thought I’d never find you.”

With that he’s on top of me and again I’m
spreading my legs for him. He positions his rigid penis by my wet opening and
kneels up to slide on the condom waiting for use at the bottom of the bed. He
resumes his position, watching my face as he pushes into me, but I’m slick
after the foreplay and he enters smoothly. I can’t help but moan, he’s snug but
there’s no discomfort. We savour a glorious connection.

I arch and move to the tempo of his
movements and hold him with my clenching, but there’s a gentleness in his
movements; he’s being cautious, he’s afraid to push too hard or thrust too
deep.

I lift myself up off the mattress and
reach out my hands, he pulls me to him so he is kneeling and I am riding him. I
wrap my legs around his buttocks, feeling them against my calves. He starts to
move.

I plead. “Make love to me Ayden.”

Instantly, I feel the quickening of breath
and I tighten my grip around his body, urging him to seek me out, to fill me.
I’m ready. He’s prepared me and I can take anything. I lean back and face him,
holding on to his biceps while he grips my neck and lunges again and again with
carnal craving.

“Yes, Oh fucking yes!”

With every piercing thrust, my own
breathing is quickening and I’m echoing his passionate cries.  “Yes, yes.”

“That’s it. Find your voice … let me hear
you,” he urges.

Now I’m squeezing and lifting myself off
him to feel the full length of his stiff cock sinking into me; I’m rolling and
rocking and coming again with such ferocity I think I will pass out.

“Yes!” I throw myself back and with a final
thrust, he pumps everything he has into me, growling my name. We fall together,
sprawling onto the cold sheets, exhausted and desperate for sleep.

***

When I rouse from my slumber, Ayden is sat
beside me, stroking his chin with his thumb. What is he thinking about? I turn
to face him, but my body is stiff and I stretch out my arms and circle my neck
to ease the aching in my limps.

“Hey, can’t you sleep?” I ask softly,
turning his face to mine.

“No, must be the jet-lag.” He pulls up the
duvet around me.

“Do you want some warm milk?”

He laughs out loud. “Warm milk, what am I
five years old?”

“No. I just thought it might help you
sleep.”

He kisses my forehead. “No, I’m good. Go
back to sleep.”

I sit up and snuggle into his rippling
chest, stroking the soft down with my warm fingers. “I’m awake now. Let’s
talk.” I know he’s been doing some serious thinking. Is it work? Is it me?
“What have you been thinking about?”

“Us.”

With the grace of a sloth I lift my head
until its level with his. “Oh?” I don’t want to press him.

“I was just thinking how long we’ve known
each other and how far we’ve come in such a short time, that’s all.”

I try to hold off on a wide eyed stare.
“And do you want to take it slower, is that what you want? It has been a little
intense.” I fake a smile.

He turns, and I see apprehension behind
those misty spheres. “Why do you?”

Sensing his anxiety, I brush his lips with
mine. “No. I’ve loved every minute of it.”

He holds my face in his hands and stares,
simply stares; there’s an ocean of memories hidden behind those captivating
eyes, deep and wide and, swimming in that ocean is a translucent reflection of
me.

“Tonight felt like the first time Beth,
how you gave yourself to me. I know that wasn’t easy for you.”