Touch Me

Logan moved for the first time since he'd sat down and I felt him brush a single fingertip over the cuff I'd pulled down to hide the nervous fidgeting of my hands.

"I usedta have a shirt like that..." The low rasp of his voice made me shiver; the kind that makes your nipples hard and gives you goosebumps on your legs and settles straight down into the pit of your stomach. This time neither of us looked at the floor.

I swallowed hard. Part of me wanted to apologize for stealing it. Part of me wanted to him to understand why I did. Now or never, Marie. "Well, actually, it is yours." My breath caught, wondering how that would go over.

Something on the very edge of controlled flickered in his hazel eyes.

"Well, if ya give it back to me... then I just might give this back to you."

He leaned back in that casual way men have when they're sitting and need to dig something from their pocket. He pushed his hand inside and shifted his hips a little, drawing my attention to the sizable mound between his legs. And God, that buckle. My mouth watered. The denim was distended slightly, enough for me to see two buttons of his fly straining to contain the bulge behind them. My head spun.

From his pocket, he withdrew a crumple of sheer green fabric shot through with iridescent threads. My scarf! He didn't seem embarrassed at all the way I had been. Instead, he held it out to me. The silk had retained his body heat, nestled so close to the pit of his groin. Almost without thinking I closed my eyes and rubbed it against my cheek.

"It's warm," I whispered.

His breathing deepened and I could tell he was bringing in my scent. "S'even hotter there now."

I half expected to open my eyes and find myself staring at my bedroom ceiling; all of this just another figment of my overactive imagination. Instead it was the soft intake of a man's breath and the squeal of a wooden chair leg on a kitchen floor that jolted me back into the moment.

I opened my eyes. All he said was, "Smelled like you."

I think I said, "Am I dreaming?" I know I thought it. But if he had my scarf all this time and turned up here tonight... and here we were, breathing hard and staring at each other across a table... I did what any girl would do; stood, flicked the three buttons open, dropped the shirt and handed it back to him. There were so many butterflies in my stomach that I even forgot to suck it in.

For a moment, time seemed to be stuck. Hung up, like a tape caught somewhere. And then there was a whirring in my head and everything seemed spool forward in an explosion of sound and movement. The screech of a chair. The clatter of a salt shaker falling over and rolling off the edge of the table. My breathy gasp. The crash of his heavy boot kicking a chair out of his way. The muffled thump of my body being pressed hard against a wall. A heady, wild kiss. Wet. Deep. Explosive. The light switch dug into my back. His mouth was so hot. I forgot to breathe. Pulling at his clothes. Kissing and groping against the wall in the kitchen. Knocking things off shelves. Cookbooks rained down. A bowl of fruit overturned. The other chair got knocked over as we dragged each other out.

We left a trail of clothes across my apartment. My pink socks dropped haphazardly where he fell to his knees and pulled them off, licking my hip and then twisting me to suck and bite at the back of my thigh. I knocked a lamp over jerking his shirt off. He managed to toe off one boot but fell back into the couch where I straddled his thighs and pulled off the other. He bit my neck and rubbed his thick fingers into my hair. His belt landed over the radiator. I think Houdini took one of his socks. Not sure where the other landed. Not sure I care.

My knees quivered when he held my panties to his face and inhaled before stuffing them into his pocket with a wicked leer and slow grind against my naked backside. He ripped open his fly and pushed. I pulled. We fell through the door of my room. The chaise we landed on creaked under us but held. I felt confused. Overwhelmed. I didn't know what I wanted to do first. Touch. Taste. Feel. Smell. Kiss. Grab. Lick. Bite. Swallow. Whimper. I wanted him inside me. I wanted it to last forever.

Yes. No. Hurry. Slow down. More. A thousand conflicting things were tugging me in every direction, pulling me further and further into the eddies of something all-consuming. Was this love? Lust? Desire? Need? I felt lost. Suddenly hesitant where I'd been tearing at his clothes only moments before. I could feel the thick length of his naked cock throbbing between us. He was rocking his hips slightly as we kissed, rubbing it against my belly and sighing into my mouth.

I clutched at him. "Help me, sugar..." I was desperate. "I want..." That got his attention, but I didn't know what I wanted. That was the problem.

He held me tighter. "We got enough time for all of it, kid." His warm tongue traced a wet path down my neck. I could feel the heat of his breath against my throat. "Just breathe me with, darlin'. Close your eyes, beautiful girl."

"God!"

I shuddered as he sucked my nipple into the warm cavern of his mouth and fought to match the rhythm of my breathing to his. His was slower. Deeper and more sonorous. He spoke against my skin, kissing my lips and my eyelids. The lightest touch. "Tell me whatcha see..." He was right. There was an image behind my closed eyes. I just had to slow my racing mind down enough to see it clearly. "Tell me whatcha want..."

Inside my head was a shockingly graphic image. Me between his legs, drinking down his orgasm while he shuddered between my lips. I whispered that to him and he groaned.

"That's... What... You... See...?" He was holding my arms above my head, speaking between kisses as he started at my elbow and kissed his way into the sensitive hollow of my armpit and then rubbed his hairy cheek against my breast. I squirmed.

I nodded. "What do you see?"

His chin lifted and I saw his eyes flash gold. "I don't needta close my eyes to see what I want." He swept a pointed gaze down my body. I fought the urge to cover the parts of myself that I don't like. He frowned and dragged my hand away from my curves. "Don't." He kissed my palm and then flicked his tongue into my navel. "I wanna see." He knelt up over me, jerking himself slowly. "Look what it does to me, darlin'..."

He was hard and throbbing, skin stretched tight with the rushing of his virile blood. A clear droplet oozed out and fell on my belly. He kept stroking. Another appeared. This one collected at the tip, growing larger and heavier until it hung suspended on a glistening silvery thread. My mouth watered. It was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen. I almost came when he told me to open my mouth and fed it to me. Just one drop. I swirled my tongue over his finger and when I sucked it, his whole body shuddered. He shifted and spread his thighs wide. I slipped down off the edge of the chaise.

And for as frantic and wild as we'd been ripping at each other's clothes, what happened then was the other end of the pendulum. Slow. Deliberately erotic. The softest fluttering kiss on his tip. Rubbing my lips together to feel the slick glide of it. The way his breath caught when I opened my mouth. I will never forget that moment when I first felt the heft of him on my tongue. How the pungent flavor of him filled my senses when I sucked down and he wept into my mouth. Or how he rolled his hips and shivered as I gave him head. Slowly. So very slowly. Or the sound he made deep in his throat when he realized what I was doing to him was making me come.

It tore through me like... I don't even know what. Strong and good and more than a little out of control.

He watched. Not directly, though. He was staring at the image of us reflected in the large full length mirror. I saw him squeeze down hard and pull gently on his scrotum to keep from coming along with me. I liked looking at him, but seeing myself... that just made me uncomfortable.

The mirror is here because I don't like what I see when I look into it. Standing naked in front of it motivates me not to eat when I'm hungry. It works. I'm down nearly twenty pounds from where I was at the end of my year in Italy after college, but I'm still not thin. My breasts will never be small. There is a fullness around my hips. My backside is toned these days but still round. And my belly still jiggles a little when I laugh really hard.

It's funny how I like to be a voyeur with everyone but myself. I turned my face away and tried to shift so I wasn't in the reflection any longer. A strong, unmovable masculine arm stopped me.

He didn't ask me why I'd done it. I think he'd worked it out. Which was more than I can say for any other lover I'd ever had, not that there'd been that many. Bobby. Remy. And Marcello, who I'd met the summer I spent in Positano... but my mistake was in assuming once he'd figured it out, that he would just let it go. He didn't. Already a very visual man by nature, once he'd gotten wind of my hang ups, it only seemed to make him more determined to make me watch us both.

First he kissed me... and then he drew me to my feet and kissed me again until I was trembling in his arms. And then he turned me and moved to stand behind me, whispering into my ear for me to watch. I saw a man put his mouth on a woman's shoulder. I saw her nipples get hard when he pinched them. I felt the trickle between my legs and saw how they pressed tightly together in response. It was embarrassing on one level to see what he was doing and to realize he could see it too.

But it was also thrilling.

I've never made a big secret of the fact that I get off on watching... for a lot of years that was all I thought I'd ever have... but this time it was me and him. Not watching someone else. Not listening to others. I was watching us. Feeling how turned on my body made him and seeing how shameless he was about showing it. It was something of a revelation. And it was scary. And exciting.

And we both watched it all.

Two pairs of eyes stayed riveted to the glass as he weighed my full breasts in his hands and pinched and rolled my nipples until I moaned and slumped back against him for support. He touched me everywhere and rubbed his beautiful cock against me... especially where I'm soft. My belly. My thighs and bottom.

My face was red. So was his cock. When he touched me, it would jump and pulse. When he guided my hands up and told me to touch myself it began to weep again, dripping slowly. Sometimes on my legs. Sometimes on the floor. Sometimes I would catch the droplets and smear them on his skin before licking them away.

He wasn't embarrassed to touch me anywhere. In fact, he seemed to especially like the places that gave me the most anxiety. He would dig his hands into my soft flesh, pulling, unafraid to use his strength to grab a handful and he would say, "This is what a man wantsta feel..." His hands went to my breasts. "And this..." He slapped my butt with an open hand so it made a loud noise and the soft flesh quivered under his palm. "And this..." He rubbed between my legs from the back. "And this..."

His soft husky whisper became a low rumble of pleasure as he lifted my leg up and rested my foot on the chaise, baring me so we could both see my naked sex, pink and exposed under the soft brown curls. He groaned at the sight and bit softly at my neck as we both watched him stimulate me. Touching gently at first and then more lewdly, opening me up to him. Grunting as he pushed a finger inside. Rubbing against my backside with a rough push of his hips when I squeezed around his fingers.

I couldn't stop looking at the dog tag in the center of his chest. The one I'd had made for him the Christmas after he'd told me he regretted flinging away the only tangible piece of his past he'd ever had. I fingered it. He fingered me. Excitement glittered in his eyes as he watched the reaction he drew from me; a flush moved down my skin. He followed it with his gaze. And then with wet glistening fingers. He pushed them back inside and breathed into my ear, "Touch yourself for me, darlin'... lemme see..."

A tremor juddered his big frame against mine as he slipped his fingers out and watched mine slip in. "Oh, God..."

"So soft... so sweet... you're beautiful, baby. Feel what a man wants to feel..." He rocked against me and pushed his wet fingers into my mouth. "Taste what a man wants to taste..." His fingers went deep. So did mine. And all the while he was whispering to me what he was going to do next and how exciting it was for him to hold me while I came on my own fingers.

He put his tongue in my ear and then with this dirty rumble told me where he was going to put it next. And how he was going to do it so I could see.

And then he did.

Knelt behind me and bent me over the chaise. Rubbing his stubbly cheek on my creamy skin and nipped and licked and kissed from the small of my back down and down. My cheeks. My lips. My wet opening. Kissed hard there, holding my hips tight and pushed his tongue deep inside. "Like a man wantsta do with his cock," he said when he knelt up. His chin was glistening and wet. He rubbed against me again, sighing at the soft skin and then pushed a slicked finger back inside me. I'm not sure what was better. The feel of it or watching the way his heavy lidded eyes darkened as he groaned in pleasure at the crude sight of his fingers penetrating me.

It was too much. One hard shove from him and the chaise scooted to the perfect position for us both to see. "Do I needta use somethin'?" he panted. I shook my head. Thank God for the shot. "Good. I want us to feel it all. I don't want anythin' between us, darlin'. Gimme your hand." He guided one of my hands down and used his other to hold himself steady as he pushed in. That was too much for me. Feeling it with my body and my fingers. Seeing it in the mirror. Hearing his deep grunt. I cried out but he didn't stop the steady inward push. It hurt. He was big and it had been so long. Years.

I felt his fingers stroke over where we were joined. "So pretty..." And then I felt his hands grip my hips hard, rubbing all over my belly, back to my bottom and around again to my hips as he rocked in as deep as he could go. In the mirror I saw the dark heavy body of a man draped over the pale naked skin of a woman's back. "Watch," he said, rolling his hips. I gasped. "Watch us."

I did.

Watching the instinctive movement of his hips was as erotic as feeling him hit that place inside that makes women see stars. The arch on the withdrawal. The play of the muscles in his back, slick with sweat at the apex of his movement. The bunching of his muscles when he pushed back in. How each shuddering thrust transferred to my skin. Made it bounce and quiver as his body thudded into mine and made a rude satisfying slapping sound when it met my pink, shivering skin.

His face nuzzled mine, kissing me as we watched ourselves make love. And for the first time, I liked what I saw. The way we moved together seemed beautiful. Soft and hard and in and out and jiggly and tight seemed to marry up perfectly. Divinely, you could say.

"Do you see?" He grunted softly in my ear. When I nodded, he kissed me. "That's what I see when I close my eyes, darlin'." I felt tears come. I felt an orgasm coming too. He pulled away and turned me over, pushing himself back inside smoothly. "Now, let me watch..." he touched my face. It was a different intimacy than watching in the mirror. More personal. More intrusive. "Give me what I've dreamed of for so long, baby..." He was struggling to master himself. "Lemme see it..."

He dropped his head and thrust hard until he felt me begin to flutter and then lifted his chin to watch my face. I felt his muscles quiver and his body surged between my legs. He was deep in me. So deep. I cried his name. He leaned even more weight into me, prolonging my pleasure. And his. I throbbed around his girth, shuddering in ecstasy.

When it was over he just whispered the same two soft words I'd whispered to him at the very beginning of all this. "Help me..." He gasped and held himself, squeezing his cock hard in his fist when I slipped away, unable to bear not having any stimulation, even for a moment.

"Time enough for all things..." I slipped down. "Give me what I've dreamed of too..."

He cursed softly at the erotic image of me on my knees before him. This time it wasn't slow. He was too aroused to be gentle. He rubbed his wet tip on my lips and thrust his hips at me, unable to articulate his need in anything but rough jerky breathing and his hands tight in my hair. His mouth was open. His eyes were glassy but he was watching. Between my lips he hardened impossibly, swelling against my tongue. I felt him in the back of my throat. My eyes watered but I didn't stop him. I wanted this. To drink his orgasm. To swallow his pleasure. To have all of him.

With a helpless sigh, he leaned back and gave into the pleasure, pouring down my throat. His body juddered and stiffened and then slowly went slack. We stayed connected that way a long time. Until he softened between my lips. Until we got chilled and sleepy. I gave his soft penis one last gentle suck and let him pull me up into his strong arms.

He didn't say thank you. He didn't whisper words of love. He said, "I never did answer your question about why I stayed." Tucking a flyaway curl behind my ear, he tenderly touched my face. "I stayed 'cause you did, darlin'."

Pushing his hair back from his face, I smiled at his handsome face and then flicked off the light. "Feel like staying a little longer, sugar?"

His soft chuckle was drowned out by the squeak of my bed as we climbed in. "Sure do, kid."

Now, I'm much too cynical to change my whole outlook based on a single night. I'm still not sure there's a star out there for me. But I do reckon every now and then, a girl gets to have her chocolate.

And eat it too.

Author's note: Just a short little story this time around. I hope you enjoyed it. My muses sure did! lol I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one and I'm taking suggestions for where y'all might like to see things go from here. :) I've already written one addition to this story. I'll be slapping my usual mature themes warning on it (I'm sure you're all surprised. Heh.) and I'm going to aim to post it later on this week.

Up next: Designs
The sequel to Reflected. Heat…. spice… and a test of endurance. W/R