Waiting For Sunday

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{nine}

Fingers thread into my hair, his lips softly caressing against my own, making my heart leap. This feels different, good— really good but different. They’re the first pair of lips on mine that aren’t familiar.

As Oliver continues to kiss me, his tongue swipes against my lower lip, and as I open my mouth, he pushes his tongue into my mouth and massages my tongue with his.

Hands wander slowly from my hair, down the length of my back and past my waist before finally gripping the back of my thighs. Lifting me up, I pull at the hem of my dress and let my legs wrap around him, inhaling sharply when my bare shoulders press against the ice-cold glass of the window behind us.

Neither of us says a word as his lips return to mine and with a small smirk, the hair of his beard tickles against my face. Oliver suddenly moves backwards, before turning and walking to what I assume is his bedroom. As the door opens, my hands grasp at the back of the collar of his dress shirt and I moan as his fingers grip at the supple flesh beneath them.

“Sunday,” he moans softly as my back suddenly bounces against the cushioned mattress below me.

He stops for just a second and leans back, his chest heaving a little, his eyes surveying the sight in front of him—, me. With a lick of his bottom lip, his fingers rest against his shirt and begin unfastening each button. I watch feeling the warmth and pooling pleasure gathering in between my legs and bite my bottom lip and with a smirk, his eyes tell me to sit up. I do and begin making light work of the belt looped around his dark jeans.

“You sure you want this?” He asks in a soft voice.

“I do,” I reply, my cheeks flushing just a little.

He nods and continues unfastening the buttons on his shirt before pulling it open and revealing muscles, lean and smooth. Small patches of soft blonde hair trail from his belly-button down to the band of his boxers and beyond, simply hidden by his underwear.

I swallow, looking up to see more soft blonde hair covering his chest, which is just as firm and as smooth as his stomach. My hands finish pulling his belt out and then unfasten his button and zipper before slowly and teasingly pulling down the denim and letting them pool at his feet.

I can see how hard he is as his erection pushes against the cotton of his underwear, desperate to be released from its constraints. With another swallow, his hands cup my face, and he leans down and kisses me as his feet kick away his jeans, leaving them in a crumpled mess of fabric along with his shirt.

“Come here,” he whispers again. I nod and stand as his hands take ahold of mine and pull me up to him. One hand cups my cheek again and with a warm smile, he kisses me, his lips peppering my jaw and then to the lobe of my ear, biting a little at it before breathing heavily in my ear, the sound and feel of it sending a shiver down my spine and another soft pulsing ache between my legs again.

“You’re beautiful, you know that,” he whispers in my ear.

“You too,” I whisper back, blushing again but as my eyes close, his mouth kisses and his tongue laps gently against the sensitive skin of my neck.

“I’m going to take this off,” he tells me, his fingers pulling lightly at the zipper.

I nod again, but when his fingers trail against my back, I feel goosebumps rise on my skin. As the dress falls and pools around my feet, Oliver kisses my bare shoulder, pulling at the strap of my bra and quickly unfastens the clasp, pulling it away from my chest, leaving me exposed. I quickly wrap my arms against my chest and feel my cheeks heat.

“Why are you hiding?” He asks with a frown.

“Because I’m nervous you won’t like what you’ll see,” I answer honestly.

“Of course I will, you’re perfect,”

“I’m really not,” I tell him as I swallow, my heart beginning to hammer in my chest again. Oliver pulls me close and hooks his fingers into the band of my panties and pulls them down, leaving me exposed, completely and utterly naked.

“Look at me,” he asks, his fingertips pushing my chin up, my eyes looking between his, “Beautiful,” he smiles gently and kisses me again, pulling my arms away and wrapping them around his neck. As the kiss deepens, he moves us backwards and lays me back down on the bed behind us, his hands slowly exploring my body.

The tension in my stomach aches as I feel myself getting more aroused from his lips alone, but as his hands push away at his boxers, I feel his erection spring free and rest against my stomach. With a small gasp and moan, Oliver pulls his lips from mine and descends down my body, kissing my skin as he moves lower.

“I’m going to kiss you here,” he murmurs with his eyes darkening. I nod, watching with a bite of my lip and gasp again as I feel his fingers touch me, slowly and tortuously gliding between my soaked folds.

“So wet,” he mutters as his mouth envelopes me.

Sucking in a breath, I moan and bite the heel of my palm, my eyes closing, my head leaning back and against the mattress.

“Oliver,”

I moan, my free hand threading into his hair. I feel him shift slightly and then feel his fingers run against the length of my folds before he pushes a single finger inside me. My back arches as I feel the sensation I didn’t think I’d missed. With quick strokes, his finger finds the soft spot inside me and begins a curling and pleasuring flick, circling inside me.

I moan again, panting a little as he continues his delicious assault on my body. The mixture of his finger and his tongue bring on a wave of pleasure I’d not felt for a long time and within minutes I call his name, my voice breaking as I say it.

He smirks as his tongue and finger continue to pleasure me until I’m back with him, my chest heaving, my mouth desperate for his again. Pulling lightly at his hair, he lets out a soft groan, “Come here,” I plead and he pulls his finger from within me. Moving his body back towards me, his lips momentarily glisten from my arousal, but he returns and kisses me again.

“Do you have a condom?”

He nods, kissing me again and sits back, leaning over me as I watch his muscles contract as he stretches and opens a small drawer, and retrieves a small silver foil packet.

“You sure you want to do this?”

“Of course I do,” I tell him softly, but don’t blush this time.

“Me too,” he smiles, placing the foil packet between his teeth and ripping at it, releasing the latex sheath. Placing it at the tip, he watches me as he rolls it down himself and then lays back between my legs, his hand placing his tip at my entrance. With a deepening kiss, he pushes slowly inside me, moaning along with me as my head buries into his shoulder.

“You feel incredible,” he murmurs into my ear.

“Oliver,”

I moan as he kisses me again, his hips not moving as he lets my body adjust to his size and length.

“You ok?” He asks me again.

“Yes,” I reply, my hands splaying against his back, legs wrapping around his thighs.

With another kiss, Oliver gently rocks his hips back and forth against my own and moans softly in my ear as he pushes a little deeper inside me. Taking his weight on his forearms, his hands cup either side of my head, his lips peppering against my skin and his hips quickening.

With a steady rhythm, and between the pants and moans we both give, we become so overwhelmed that within minutes, we both reach our orgasm and I whimper and moan again when I feel him pulse inside me, feeling my walls clamp around him.

“Sunday,” he whispers, kissing me again as I wrap my arms around his back.

With a deep breath, he withdraws from me slowly and rolls onto his back pulling me into his chest. I rest my chin against my hands and smile softly as he brushes my hair away from my dampened face.

“That was—,”

“Good,” I smile, biting my bottom lip as he peers down at me.

“Better,” he replies.

“Better than good?”

“So much better,” he smirks.

“Me too,” I reply, biting at my lip again.

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