Fight Fire with Fire

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We arrived at our hotel late in the evening, though it was still fabulously warm out. The day and night had been spent together, exploring the new surroundings, though there’d been some small frictions between us along with a little bit of teasing and flirting.

I knew I was pushing some buttons, and my slightly cranky state was exacerbating that need to rub it in to your also slightly raw ego.

I couldn’t even say why I did it, though I know it was immature and insecure of me to do so; I could hardly help myself. I suppose it could be boiled down to a need for attention, also a slightly perverse habit of mine of teasing to show affection. Sometimes, I went a little too far.

Your expression was my first clue, and later, as you spoke to me, your tone drove it home.

Even after I knew my fate, I pushed a little more.

We had planned to go out to a few of the bars in the area and listen to the live music, but that changed. Instead, you took my hand and we began walking back to our hotel. You were quiet, slightly brooding though in no way angry in appearance. There was that tenseness to your brow that I knew as a warning signal. When you did look at me, your eyes were laser sharp. I swooned, and felt again as I had the first time you’d looked at me that way, before I knew the tenderness of those eyes… I felt my throat closing as we walked.

I regretted teasing you, taking things too far, and being cross with you.

You reached for me, touching the nape of my neck, reminding me…

I lowered my eyes, dipping my head slightly in response, not so much an answer but acknowledgment. Yours. There was a softening at my center that also awakened the moist need to yield to you, to make up for my transgressions.

I also wanted to stay out, to see all the people, to enjoy the warm night, the excitement. I wanted to avoid facing you alone, and admitting my wrong. Part of me, though, was eager, uncontrollable, and that part of me trembled, no, vibrated in anticipation.

You would give me my penance, and if at first I resisted, I would never know it later. You would make me want the sting of shame, I would thirst for your intensity, and it would renew me, give me confidence.

You knew your power over me all too well though you did not gloat. Instead, your subtle annoyance simmered in my nerves. There have been times when you have been truly angry with me, and your rage is a terrible thing though you does not use it for violence. It is a powerful, quiet force, and intimidating. Even these small glimpses of it left me in awe, and changed my mood from mischievously cranky to contrite, and deferent.

Still, I thought that I might allay my punishment, or soften its impact. I walked closer to you, snuggling against your side. You lifted your arm, and embraced me, pulling me close against your body. Your strength radiated around me. There was tension in your caress, and a sharp rhythm to your heartbeat. You walked quickly, your long legs taking steps that kept me hurrying to keep up.

Once we were inside the hotel, we found the stairs and began making our ascent. On the third landing, you stopped me. Your hands on each shoulder, you pushed me back against the wall. Your eyes met mine, and I looked back, blinking softly feigned innocence, gentle surprise. Attempted distraction.

“You were very bad, tonight.” You said to me, your tone low, but not a whisper. Rather, a low rumble that made me squirm.

“I’m sorry..” I whispered, softly, lowering my lashes then slowly raising them to meet your eyes, difficult though it was.

Your mouth was near my ear, and I could feel the wiry, rough hair of your beard and mustache grazing my ear, my neck, my cheek. I gasped a little, but caught myself, trying to keep from giving my responses away. Make you work for it. Hah, who was I kidding?

The thin silk of my panties was already damp and cool against the shaven bare labia beneath the short skirt you’d asked me to wear.

A realization dawned on me and slow indignation made me squirm once more. You held me firmly, your body pressed me nearer the wall, and your switched so just one of your hands pinned my shoulder, the rest done by your torso, and hips. I could feel your readiness, and a satisfied thrill rolled through me, gliding on my pulse. I knew I had an advantage, no matter what you wanted me to think.

Still, I remembered the beginning of our relationship, and your endurance is legendary. No matter how far we’d gone, you managed to stop before it had gone too far, before we were certain, before we destroyed a relationship based in deep friendship and respect. Before we obeyed the cravings şişli grup yapan escort of our bodies. Long after I’d already decided to give in, you had waited. You were right.

I wavered in my determination to outlast you, to deny you the victory. You might say my orneriness was not quite quashed.

Your free hand slid down to my thigh, under my skirt and squeezed it. I love your hands. So large, always warm, strong and firm. Resolute. I expected your hand to tug at my panties, next, but that did not happen.

Instead, you slid your hand between my thighs and up, pressing the palm of your hand over my pussy, through the fabric, your fingers probed the damp lips, pushing inward, dragging the rough fabric over my clit. Knowingly. I thought I detected an exhalation of a chuckle as I responded, unable to do differently. My thighs squeezed around your hand. Sluttishly, I sought more pressure, more contact…more.

I futilely tried to compose myself, releasing a slow breath as you kissed my ear, your mouth never leaving its station there, knowing the feel, the sound, the vibratto of your voice, your breathing was stimulation enough to give you carte blanche with me. The hand at my shoulder had now slid down, beneath the breast on that side, and fingertips traced the underside curve, flicking upward over pointed nipple, circling there, whispering, “Ohhh there’s my good girl. So good…”

I groaned, my eyes squeezing shut as the hand over my pussy tugged at the panties now trapped in the crease of my sodden sex. Even I could smell my need. Your satisfaction, your victory was evident in every low grunt of pleasure you were taking.

You tugged and teased the nipple of my right breast. My legs felt weak, as did my resolve.

The way you held me pinned to the cool wall behind us, the way you whispered and breathed in my ear so hotly, the way your fingers and hands played me to distraction; I whimpered involuntarily, realizing I was quickly running out of resistance.

You tugged my panties upward again, knowing just exactly the way it would squeeze and roughly tickle my engorged, throbbing clit. You remarked on how wet they were. I knew what you wanted to hear.

I could feel your erection pressing into my belly as you pushed me to the wall rhythmically. “Ohhhgodd I want that…” I whispered, feverishly. Your wicked chuckle made me realize I was sunk. Hopeless. Your mouth now worked at the soft flesh of my neck, over my jugular vein. You nipped, suckled and kissed, nibbling, again the sandpaper thrill of your mustache, your beard rubbing my flesh to redhot excitation. My head leaned back, exposing it for you as your fingertips teased alongside the narrow strip of panties, and threatened to dip into the steaming opening.

I sought that contact, fervently, but your fingers deftly avoided that which would give me release from this buzzing need, this driving desire to fuck and be fucked.

I was just about done, about ready to give in, to ask, to beg…but remembering a small bit of my churlishness, I moved my hands to your shoulders, pushing. It was as nothing, but you noticed and admonished me, growling against my throat, “Nooo way you’re stopping now, girl. Too late.”

I struggled again, figuring I’d get away and lead you on a chase up the last few flights of stairs and rob you of your hard on, at least. I could picture it in my mind, and giggled a little.

Your response was to kiss me, crushingly hard. My lips bruising under the ferocity, your hand now reaching to tangle in my hair, wrapping it around your fist. Your tongue probed while his finger did similarly in my pussy, sliding in aside from the sopping undergarment, curving inward, up and oh so barely grazing that spot you know so well.

I let out a little yelp, muffled in the kiss, and you then withdrew the finger to trace around the place where my clit screamed for your touch, aching, throbbing, on fire. “Ohyesohyesohyes” I chanted, wantonly as you broke from the kiss, my lips glowing from the abrasion.

I opened my eyes a slit to gauge your response, and saw the heat color your own cheeks, your own eyes glassy with need.

I almost felt the desire to play with you further, then laughed at myself derisively. Who was I kidding? You had the upper hand, no matter what I might delude myself with.


“Please, what?” You knew what you wanted. Knew where my hesitation was.

“Please…” Your fingers teased along each blossoming outer labia, grazing the inner petals maddeningly. The tip of your tongue traced a pattern over the pulsing vein at my neck şişli masöz escort and muffled your groans there, knowing exactly what they did to me.

“Please, Allen…fuck me. Fuck me, please…I need it. I need you. Need your cock in me. Now…”

I was a shameless slut for you, and you knew it. You drew back your head and looked at me, the glint of pleasure quite evident in your eyes.


I whined softly, “Please…?”

You kissed me again, hard and deep, your arms wrapping around my torso, pulling me against you. I wrapped my legs around your hips, my arms around your shoulders.

I heard the rhythmic approach of footsteps from an upper floor. It was early a.m. by now, and I am sure you’d figured we’d have the stairs to ourselves. I squirmed a little, but you held me there, whispering, “Don’t worry…just wait.”

I wondered had this person been in the stairwell when I’d made my needs so clear. Had they heard my whorish utterances?

Even worse, would they now come upon us in the stairwell, and see me, us, knowing what I had just said, what I wanted….?

I could tell by the way you were looking at me that you were enjoying my bit of discomfort. You reached up and brushed a lock of my hair back off my cheek and kissed my forehead, your eyes conveying the way you knew that I knew that you were stronger, that you knew how to get to me, how to strip away my inhibitions, break down my resolve. They also told me of how you loved that I would instigate a little bit of friction, so that we could have these contests of will, your pleasure in my resistance, futile though it be. And how you looked forward to the day when I just might challenge you and win.

So distracted was I by reading your expression, staring into your beautiful eyes, that I’d forgotten who was coming, and when they rounded the steps on our landing, I could not stop myself from glancing over your shoulder and catching their eyes.

It was a bellhop, probably 20 years old, if that, and he had the reddest cheeks, doubtful at his age that the stairs would do that to him. His eyes avoided mine so purposefully that I knew. I just knew, and I hid my face against your shoulder.

The bellboy hurried down past us.

I figured I was off the hook, now, for sure. However, you had other ideas.

You looked back into my eyes and said, your voice low and controlled, “Now, about that request.”

My eyes widened and I grinned in disbelief and shock.

“No way you’re getting away with that, girl.” I couldn’t believe what you were suggesting, and I was already thinking that bellboy had gone downstairs and told half the night crew about what was going on in the stairwell, and they’d be on their way up anytime, or poking their heads in to listen for more interesting announcements.

You pushed me back firmly, and told me to remove my panties. I did, looking around as I slid them down and stepped out of each opening. You took them from me and pressed them to your nose. You watched me as you did this, your eyes wolfish, predatory…hungry.

“Someone smells a little eager…” You chuckled and pushed the panties into your pocket.

I felt naked indeed, in the short skirt, the air seeming so cool against the wetness left there on the bare flesh of my pussy. You reached down and stroked the soft, silky lips, letting your fingertip tease my clit at the apex. I leaned forward and pressed my face against your neck and shoulder, to whisper how much I needed you, and could we please hurry to our room, inhaling your delightfully masculine scent as I breathed in, feeding a need if only partially. I let my fingertips squeeze and clutch at your shoulder, your arm, delighting in the thickness of muscle, density of bone within. Mine.

“Unzip my jeans.”

“What?!? Here?”

You nodded, your expression as certain as ever, and that was always clear.

I reached down, slowly, freeing the button from its eye, and sliding the zipper down, slowly and its motion there obviously agonistic for you. I could feel your erection pulse in response, and I let my fingers drag behind, over the cloth of your shorts, shocked by the heat which radiated there within the hardness of your cock. “Mmmmmmmmm” I purred into your ear, feeling the response beneath my fingers as I told you how I hungered for your heat, your hardness with that wanton growl.

“Oh you are a bad girl, alright.” You slid your hands down, grasping each ass cheek and squeezing, tugging me against you, grinding against my hips. I gasped in response and hugged tightly around your neck.

The intensity of my need was distracting, şişli otele gelen escort and there were no eavesdropping hotel staff in my mind at all to distract me from that.

I knew you were going to invade my wanting body, going to drive all reason from my thoughts, replace it with wild abandon, with insatiable lust and then you wree going to fulfill that need, going to satisfy me as if that were possible (Just now it seemed there was no way that could happen). I knew that I would, indeed, arrive at that point in which I would beg you to stop, to ease off. And, depending on your mood, on my responses, you would. Or you wouldn’t. It was as if you knew me better than I knew myself, and you knew my limits where I was too timid to test them.

“You know I am…but still you tease me, you won’t give me what I want.” I pouted, kissing you, imploringly…grinding my hips against you, and tugging open your pants, my fingers seeking to free your bulging cock from its entrapment within.

“Easy, babe…you have me so fuckin’ hard.” I giggled throatily, pleased with that statement.

“Just the way I like you” I said, low and seductively.

Your hands slid down and pushed my skirt up around my hips, guiding me over your straining tool. We both watched as you found your angle, me holding my breath, time suspended as I waited to feel your heat spreading me open, multiplying in the friction of your entry.

“Ohhhbaby hurryhurryhurry” I moaned, wriggling closer.

“Now?” Your question seemed out of place, but I knew the purpose.

“Yes…now…please…bury your cock in me. I need it. I am so ready…to feel you…oh, Allen….Allen…please make me cum…please….cum in me…on me…please” my whispers were pleading, breathy and wispy, trailing off as I begged.

At once you lifted and thrust up into me, and I drew in a breath, squeezing my eyes shut as the flared, thick head of your cock opened me as if for that first time, and slid in and up. The heat of you, the rhythm of your pulse was so evident and set every nerve on fire. I groaned as the ache of stretching, the tingle as I felt my pussy squeeze around your girth, my fingers digging into your shoulders, and clutching, opening your shirt so that I could caress the broad strength of your chest, nails scraping lightly over your flesh to express the intensity of sensation you were giving to me.

“Oh Allen…Allennnnnnnnnnnnnn….” My voice trailed away to a low moan as I nibbled at your neck, my hips rocking, seeking that pressure over my g-spot. I whimpered as it happened, holding tightly to you as you bent your knees and ground me back and up against the wall.

You muffled your grunts of effort in my hair. Every muscle was bulging and hard, the tendons like steel bands, and veins stood in relief. I reached around to clutch at your ass, clenched and trembling even as you tried to stave off your orgasm.

My fingertips then trailed over your nipples, so lightly. I felt the intensity of my own impending orgasm start to rise, almost reflexively, and I knew you’d found that exact angle, and that soon it would be beyond my control.

I barely had time to think that as I felt the expansion of ecstasy, the tightness of muscles, contracting, then releasing, and as the energy disippated so did everything else. I only wanted more, and I only wanted to stay right here, right now, forever.

I moved slowly, carefully, deliberately with you, keeping the contact exactly as I needed it to maintain the blissful intensity.

I whispered I love yous, and promises to love you forever, to remember who it was that gave to me these gifts of perfection. I rubbed and kneaded at your shoulders, still knotted and tense, still trembling with effort.

When at last I drew that final deep breath and released it in a long, low sigh, I collapsed against you, feeling the pulses of your own orgasm filling me with heat, sending little aftershocks throughout my belly. I scooted as close to you as I could, wanting all of you inside me, feeling more than just a need, more like wanting to be inside you, part of you just now, to hang onto this moment as long as possible.

My cheeks flushed with our lovemaking, my hair clinging damply around my face and neck, I laid my head on your shoulder, kissing the bare skin I’d exposed. Sighing warmly against you, thanking you.

When at last you let me down, I could feel your seed leaking from me, down my thighs and I smiled to myself, enjoying the way I missed having you inside me, felt empty and I couldn’t wait to have you again. Later…I knew I would. I knew your resolve would be all the stronger, though, and so I knew it would not be without its challenge.

You took my hand and we finished ascending the stairs to our floor, and down the hall to our room, ducking in before we could encounter anyone, to my relief.

When we got in, we took a long bath and you ordered room service. Nothing like the hunger one feels after having been sated.

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