Let’s Make Fierce Love

Be the man that can answer my marathon

My Photo, Graffiti

A knock plays against the door. I rush to it and call out I’m coming. NY stands outside in a long sleeved, ocean blue shirt. I step aside and he comes toward me. He wraps his arms around me and lifts up. I’m picked off the ground and I squeal in delight. When he sets me down we bounce from side to side.

His hands slide down to my ass. He fondles the overflowing derrière. I moan into his ear. There’s this scent to him that is deep, musky and manly. I take a deep breath and part from him. If I don’t remove myself from this closeness to him we’ll never eat.

“What would you like your omelette to have?” I ask NY.

“Eggs. Totally. And oh yeah… more eggs,” he grins cheekily at me.

I smack him lightly on his shoulder and place a hand on my hip. I meander into the kitchen. My hand grips the rubber hand of the spatula. I wag it from side to side.

“No shit Sherlock, eggs. How many? Two or three?” I ask him.

I can’t help a chuckle that escapes my lips. He has a smartass personality like mine. It’s why we get along so well together. We’re like a walking comedic act that is playing in real time when we hit the streets together. He sits at my high top table and strokes his beard thoughtfully.

“Three eggs. And bacon.”

“Of course bacon. You know who you’re talkin’ to, right?”

My purple dress clings to my form. It wraps around and is only held together by a golden clasp. Pockets adorn each side of my hip. It’s a dark, deep purple color and my chest overflows out of the one opening. I caught him staring down and would try to pull it up.

The ballet we saw only caused me to be more turned on. Ballerinas grabbed the napes of each other’s necks. They spun, pulled, shoved each other. It only reminded me of the push, pull, eventual entangling he and I do.

I multi-task with four things at once. Bacon cooks, potatoes sit chopped ready to be put inside the pan. He observes me from the sidelines and heckles me occasionally. I flash him my middle finger and a big, ridiculous grin.

This feels like common ground, like something that always happens. He watches me with one of my many hidden passions. We have this verbal banter between us over the sound of fans. I’m nothing but mayhem and pandemonium when I’m cooking. I dart from side to side putting bacon on a paper towel. Then I crack eggs on the side of the pan. A coffee cup contains the eggs as I briskly whisk them.

I don’t know how everything comes together with my cooking. When it’s ready I walk over to him and set down the plate. He looks so delectable dressed up that I want to eat him. Instead, I bite into a piece of bacon with a jerk of my head.

“How is it?” I ask him.

“Mmm, good. Very good!”

He nods his head. We debated going to a restaurant before this point. I lured him into my apartment with the temptation of a home made, three egg omelette. We talk about anything and everything together. My work, his work, his multitude of friendships he has. NY knows my world like few do, or are ever allowed to. When we finish I eyeball him with one of my classic, minx-like grins.

I approach him and wrap my arms around him. He leans into my body. I wonder who will make the first move. I implore him with my hazel eyes to just kiss me already. He answers my request with that beautiful, first kiss since we’ve been together.

In the ballet he ran fingertips around my legs. He has a necessity, an outright compulsion, for touch like me. He always plays his blunt nails against my silken skin. When I’m on top he’ll drag his nails against my ankles and calves. It drives me wild and causes me to grind my hips harder against him.

We shove into each other with an inherent need. NY flips the clasp of my dress open. My lacy bra is exposed and he fondles my tits. His hands push them together and pinch my nipples. There’s this rolling of his fingers over them that leaves me breathless. I groan and we move to stand.

“Take this off me,” I demand.

He pulls the purple, collared dress over my head. I stand with only my bra and panties on. He unhooks my bra and my full breasts release from their contrasts. My nipples harden under his stare.

He moves to my right tit and tilts it up. His mouth devours the flesh with a dominant edge. I feel his teeth scrape against the perked and hardened bud. He bites the sensitive skin and I gasp. I hold his head against me as he transitions to my left nipple. He suckles at it and my knees feel weak.

When we disengage I know what I want to do. My knees crash into the floor. The curly carpet greets my bare skin. I look up at him as I unbuckle his belt. I need him desperately inside my mouth. My hands shove down his dress pants with a sort of vengeance. His boxers are unceremoniously removed from his skin just as quickly.

His erection sits in front of me. I can’t help the grin on my lips. I’ve been thinking about forcing him down my throat for hours. Fingernails grip his ass as I shove his length into my mouth. He moans above me. I bob back and forth as his girth stretches my jaw.

He lets out a primal growl. I feel his fingers entwining with my hair. NY pulls on it to get me to my feet. We kiss and move backward toward my king sized bed. I tumble back into its firmness and he follows after me. His legs kick out his pants legs from clinging to his ankles.

Our kisses are soft and tender in the beginning. We build up into that ownership of the other’s lips and tongues. His tongue dances deeper within my mouth. I grab his bearded face and he pushes my legs open. That first thrust within me takes my breath away. It opens my incredibly tight pussy like a demand. I’m always rendered gasping from the sensation of it. Like he takes away my oxygen with that necessary first thrust.

“Have you been craving this pussy of mine since the last time?” I ask him.

He pushes inside me harder. His pace quickens. I scratch my nails down his back. He bites my shoulder and I let out a playful growl. We fuck like rabid animals looking to fully consume the other.

“Oh yeah, I’ve been thinking about this. About this tight pussy of yours, twitching, clenching, gripping me. Being balls deep within you,” NY mumbles.

He pushes me further back against the fluffy pillows. They support me as he roughly pounds into me. I shove back into his dick as if demanding more.

“Been thinking about you squirting all over me,” he says with a primal sound. Like he’s trying to resist me getting him to finish this fast.

I want to have him keep thrusting within me until he can’t stand it anymore. Until his dick remembers the feel of me gripped around his girth. That delicious, amazing feel of it hugging him like a tight embrace. It refuses to let go of him even after the fact. We pant as his marathon way of fucking reminds me this is going to be an incredible night.

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