I’m not leaving you, my high-flying man.
I feel a second pair of arms wrap around us in a blanket of security.
Keola.
For a brief moment, Finn lets go of me and wraps himself around Keola. A breath of wind gets knocked out of him.
“You guys are okay,” he murmurs to Keola.
“I told you, kid, we would.” Keola reassures him.
I see the relationship between them two grow and blossom into trust and security. Keola breaks apart looking at Finn, “You think you could give your aunt and I some time, something I just want to show her.”
“Y’all aren’t leaving are you?” he looks at me for an answer.
“Nah, grumpy just wants to show me he knows how to smile,” I make up some kind of answer as Keola ushers me through the doors and through the hallway.
With a gentle push, we’re back in his room. He shuts the door and locks it. Before I can make a sound, he rushes to me, cupping my face until our lips are bruising each other. Like a man coming up for air, he melts into the kiss. I give in, throwing my arms around him, hoisting myself up to wrap around him.
His hand rests under my ass, keeping me in one place.
I pull away, “Okay big boy, it’s okay.” I try to catch my breath, but he moves me to the wall, pinning me against. He remains silent. The hunger in his eyes darkens them, as he kisses my neck, nipping, marking it like he needs reassurance. He sets me down, planting my feet in a wider stance. He makes haste of my clothes, pulling out my breasts.
He teases them, sucking on them, his tongue savoring the feel and the heat that rushes through me. One he’s sucking on my nipple, the other kneading it.
The explosion of sensation coming to a climax. I want more. My staggering breaths make my chest heave, my hands tangle in his dark locks, gripping for control.
Maybe this is what he needs, to make him smile, to show him that I’m still here.
“Honey,” I try to say as he switches breasts. I arch as the rising feeling of an orgasm threatens to explode. “Fuck.” I hiss out.
In between my whimpers, his moans send me over the edge, as my knees give out and the wave of pleasure crashes on me.
In the haze of pleasure, I look to see the devious, seductive smile he flashes.
“One,” he says.
He’s counting, counting the orgasms he gives me.
“Honey, talk to me.” I tell him. But he doesn’t hear me through the tearing away of his clothes. As he scoops me to splay me out on the bed.
His weight rests on me, searing me into another passionate kiss, slipping his tongue in my mouth. Nashing, gnawing away at my skin. His hand reaches between us, snapping the button of my jeans. But he doesn’t take them off, rather snaking his hand over my pussy. He finds that I’m dripping, enough so if he thrusts, it’ll slip right in.
His other hand pushing away one of my thighs, spreading me even wider, keeping them open, my pussy open for his pleasure, my torment.
His finger slips between my folds, where I’m sensitive to touch.
His thumb finds my clit, already engorged from need. I buck against him. He’s barely touching me and all I want to do is fly off the handle and beg for more.
I hold back my moans and whimpers afraid to rattle the walls around us. But it’s too late as inserts one of his fingers, sliding in and out. The remnants of my last orgasm never settled, the wave crashes once more as my pussy grips his finger, his thumb circling my clit. I thrash my head, hiding my face amongst the pillows.
“Two,” he says, adding to the count as my legs start to tremble, the power keeps building.
Two, how many more is he willing to go?
“I guess talking is out of the question right now,” I try to find the wind that has been knocked out of me. I don’t feel his weight anymore, but the vanishing of the rest of clothes, as he throws my legs over his shoulders.
He ravishes me with every stroke of his tongue, latching onto my clit. I’m past the point of dripping, he takes everything from me, every emotion, every tension. I forget the point of pain. I can’t help but to look up at him, his eyes staring back at me. He claims my pussy, it’s his to play with, his to toy with.
