Be Still 1

"Be still"

His firm command was enforced by the grip he had on the backside of her leg as she lay on her back. He was over her. She was so wet with need.

A second ago she straddled his waist, grinding through the denim of his jeans, watching him convulse when the rigidness of his want slipped between her lips. She had dampened his denim further, he had started leaking through long ago as she teased him with her dress. Their eagerness commingled through the weave of the material of his jeans.

She had him where she wanted him, he wanting her. His eyes called her name. His heart pulsed through his pelvis. She had him contained.

Until she did not.

He grabbed her under the ribs, his surprising grip startling the wind from her lungs. She cried out in a surprised squeal, he lifted and twisted. She fell sideways onto the bed, her back landing on a pillow, her hips falling open to him.

"Be still", he commanded.

She struggled to regain the high ground. His right hand found her shoulder, his fingers dug into her flesh. His grip was just as commanding as his words.

His free hand worked quickly. Her eyes did not leave the intensity of his gaze. He did not break from his stare of lust. She listened to his belt buckle clink, the sound of a zipper screaming through the dark afternoon air of the bedroom.

Every time she squirmed to regain control, his grip reminded her to remain. To be still.

She felt his hand grab at her thong. She felt the cold air prey upon her skin where her need had pooled. She could smell her ache. He smelled her too. His eyes were enflamed with untamed greed for her. She felt the material grab and resist along the flesh of her inside thigh, it was not designed to fit easily along the smooth curve of her muscle. She stared, biting her lip, not looking away from his gaze.

Her legs grabbed at his pelvis, she felt his jeans replaced with his bare hips. She pulled at him, trying to bring him closer. She did not have the mass to effect such a feat. He simply let go of her shoulder and moved both hands along the bottom of her thighs until he reached the fulcrum of the back of her knees. He pushed her legs forward and back, then rested some of his weight against her. The pillow pushed her pelvis higher than her head. She could not move, her dress provided no protection, her breasts free and unmanaged by the material. She might as well be naked.

His gaze did not move to his work. He simply stared into her eyes, his pupils alive and fierce. She felt the jump of his heart in the pulse that rested against her exposed skin where her thong had been. He did not look away, but she felt him probe. He smeared her desire, seeking her warmth. She felt him get so close, she shifted to invite his entry. His grip tightened around her leg sharply.

"Be still", his command echoed slightly against the shadows of the bedroom walls.

The pain of his grip on her legs was his exclamation point. She followed his directions, however, his command only served to make her thirst more for him to fill her. She felt her appetite leak forth from origins deep inside.

He bit his own lip, controlling his concupiscence to the points of his grip and the throb of his reach. His head found the warmth of her invitation. Every time she squirmed so that he may slip deeper into her welcome, he pushed her further away by the legs. He could easily slam into her and satiate his hunger. That would be too easy. He wanted her to feel every inch of him. He needed her to understand the intensity with which he desired her and the agony of delayed gratification.

He also knew that she could not resist letting go of the throws of ecstasy as he slipped ever deeper into her. This was already evidenced by the red bleeding into the pallor of her cheeks. He felt her encouragement boil around him in silky wetness that, if left to physics, would draw him in without conscious effort. But he was conscious. He was aware, but he resisted.

Every centimeter of movement sent waves of bliss shooting through her middle like electricity. Her breath, though labored, began to lift a whine of need from her lips. With her focus on the incredible feeling of him ever so slowly pushing deeper to her point of release, she did not think about how she sounded. At least not until her pleads for him were formed into breathless cries.

"Please. Yes. Plea..." she shifted her hips as she pleaded.

"Be still", he struggled to command without his own voice breaking. It was becoming so incredibly hard for him to resist his own urge to let go. His grip did not fail. He tightened his fingers sharply in their constriction of her flesh.

Her response was her greatest weapon. Her voice silenced, held in the capture of her breath. Her muscles contracted as the sharp electricity overwhelmed her. His voice, his hands, and his cock pushed her over the realm of control. Her eyes broke with his as she could no longer stand to see anything other than pleasure coursing within her. She shook free from the capture of her breath with loud cries. Her cries shook her free from irritant in her reality. Only he remained. Only he mattered at that point. Only their communion in this primal state communicated their need for the other.

Though she was not conscious of these facts. She simply shook in the pleasure that propagated in quaking waves.

He reached the depth he sought just as she let go. He immediately felt the strength of her desire grip him, massage his length, flood him in a warmth that seemed to spring forth from her center. She shook. He felt the heat of her desire escape to the outermost point of their union. Her essence fully encompassed him, marking his pubic area to remind him of where he belonged and to whom. Her cries were the final salvo against his resistance. He relaxed for just a moment. At that moment, his control crashed to nothing. He seized as his energy sprang forth from deep within. The pain of restraint instantly burned into convulsing pleasure. He pulsed deep within her, adding even more heat to their union, more fluid to their state.

His grip tightened immensely as he gave in to the pulse of his desire, then he let go as the pleasing calm washed over him. He was still throbbing, his breath catching with every shot of electricity that came with each pulse. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him tightly. Their union was lubricated by their evidence of need, their warmth magnified by their intimacy.

"Be still", she whispered breathlessly into his ear. A command he followed. They collapsed into their embrace, still against the afternoon, into the caress of dreams.

------------------------

She looked into the mirror while hastily getting dressed, late to get out the door and into morning traffic. Her anxiety for the day crept ever higher. She saw the bruises just above the back of her knees from the prior evening. She felt her heart ease.

"Be still."