Chapter 2
His hands move to her back, wandering up and down as if starved for the feel of her. His lips slide down over chin, throat, shoulder, nibbling, tasting, devouring. Still curled in his hair, her fingers press his head lower till skin ends and cloth begins. He pauses for a moment and glances into her eyes questioningly. She trails the tip of her index finger down his cheek and across his lower lip, slowly, following it with her eyes. Still unsure, he moves his hands possessively down her back to her hips, one cheek in each hand, and draws her hard against him in one final question. "Is this what you want?" he asks with his eyes.
Dropping her arms, she takes a step backward, her eyes locked with his. His shoulders sag with disappointment. Then her fingers grasp the hem of her shirt and in one quick movement, she pulls it up over her head and lets it fall. The sudden exposure to both the chill of the laundry room and the heat of his stare quickly hardens her nipples. The look of utter bewilderment on his face makes her want him even more and she reaches her hand out and grasps one of his. Her touch instantly breaks the spell and he pulls her to him, one hand goes to the back of her neck and draws her in for a hot, hungry kiss while the other cups a breast. As the kiss intensifies, his thumb glides slowly across the aching nipple. A low moan escapes her throat. His head dips to the hardened nipple and his tongue flickers across it briefly, waiting for her reaction.
"Oh, yes," she whispers. His lips draw the nipple into his mouth and he sucks hard, mouth wide. He turns her suddenly and presses her back against the washing machine. One hand on each breast, his caresses deepen, nipples pinched hard between thumb and forefinger, teasing, twisting, pressing. She breathes fast now, panting like an excited animal, then gasps as his thumbs hook the waist of her shorts and in one quick move, they lie puddled on the ground.
A hand slides between her thighs, feeling the heat building there, feeling the hot, wetness of her lust. Gliding his fingers back and forth across the smoothness of her panties, he teases, excites, enjoys the satisfaction of his effect on her. She stands motionless, eyes closed, head thrown back, fingers gripping the washer's edge.
*
Chapter 3
A moan escapes her lips as her pelvis pushes against his fingers. Watching her face, he presses harder till he feels the tiny little center of her passion. It's hardness surprises and excites him. He hears her inhale through her open mouth. Unable to resist, he pushes the wet crotch of her panties aside and brushes his middle finger across her clit. Slippery with her desire, his fingers slide over, around, across it. She presses her lower lip between her teeth, groaning softly with each pass of his fingertips.
Quickly, his hands move to her waist and she is lifted to the washer's lid. Grabbing the flimsy panties with both hands, he effortlessly rips them from her body. Using his forearms he spreads her thighs wide. His thumbs spread the wet folds of her pussy. With one last electric look into her eyes, he lowers his mouth and his lips touch her, taste her, caress her. He inhales her scent. The scent of heat. Passion. Lust. Probing deeper, he pushes his tongue into the wet cavern, then out again. In. Out. Teasing. Toying. Her legs involuntarily rise to his shoulders and she envelops him in her heat, soundlessly demanding more. She caresses her breasts roughly, twisting the nipples between thumb and forefinger.
His head rises to watch her face as he slides one thumb very slowly into her. He feels the muscles of her vagina envelope it, pulling it even deeper. Slowly he withdraws it till only its tip is inside. Her hips rise toward it, capturing it in her velvety grasp again, and again. Faster now, in deep, then out, then in, pressing against the elusive G-spot, making her mad with desire. One of her hands appears then, fingers encircle her clit, stroking it in rhythm with the piston-like movement of his thumb. He watches, with awe, as their fingers, together, play her body like a harp. Plucking, pulling, pressing. He feels her body tensing, her back arching, her muscles tightening around his finger. Wetting his fingers in her juices, he pushes three fingers into her pussy. Fucking it hard. Matching her thrust for thrust. Harder. Her fingers now a blur on her clit. A long, low growl escapes from deep within her throat as her body spasms with the violence of her orgasm. She doubles over with it, clamping down on both his hand and hers, shuddering, clinging, gasping, twitching.
Moments pass in silence. Hearts beating like two frightened rabbits they breathe. In and out. Slower now. Deeper. He raises his head and gazes at the woman lying peacefully, eyes closed, draped across the washer's lid.
He reaches up, slowly, with one hand, and re-inserts the power cord into the outlet.
