upstairs.

Posted on 6 June 2016 by what sandra thinks

kiss... upstairs.

upstairs.
Based on a true story. (Mature content follows…)

He followed me up the stairs to my apartment. The moment he climbed the last step, he grabbed my waist from behind and pulled me against him. I smiled when he kissed my head. We reached the door and as I searched for the key, he pulled my hair aside and kissed my neck. I inhaled sharply at the warmth of his lips on my skin. When I finally found the key, my fingers wouldn’t function. And I stopped trying. I closed my eyes and sighed at his perfect sweet little kisses.

I twisted in his arms so I could have his mouth, taste his lips… his tongue. Cradling my head in his hand, he pushed me into the still-locked door. His other hand grabbed mine and held it up against the wall. I was pinned. And I loved his body squishing mine into that door. His impatience, his desire for me brought out the forceful side of him he knew I craved.

hands.

“Honey…” He moaned barely taking his mouth from mine. “I couldn’t wait… to kiss you…”

“Good… it’s good…” I gasped for a breath and tasted him again. He pushed his body closer to mine. “It’s really really good…” More kisses. “Baby… I have to open the door.”

He ran a finger over my cheek and looked at me with such an expression of love… of hunger… that I hated to look away. But I turned in his arms again and finally unlocked the door.

The moment we were inside, we pulled off our jackets and tossed them toward the sofa. Whether they landed there or on the floor, we didn’t notice. He grabbed me back into his arms, lifting me. My legs wrapped around him and I kissed him. I wanted his mouth. I loved his mouth. He carried me to the bedroom with only the glow of moonlight filtering through the gauzy curtains guiding him.

When he reached the bed, he let me go. The moment my feet hit the floor, he slipped his hands under my shirt and lifted it. He took his mouth from mine and tossed my shirt aside. I grabbed his and he helped me pull it from him.

My hands touched his chest and my mouth played with his, tongues tasting, teasing, tangling. Without taking his lips from mine, he slipped his hands between us. Unbuttoning, unzipping, dying to remove every piece of clothing as though wearing anything at all was a ridiculous convention.

undress.

I pushed him to the bed until he fell onto it. I crawled to him and knelt over him. He grabbed my thighs as I bent down to kiss him again. He took a hand from my thigh and slid it into my hair, pulling my mouth from his. I smiled at the devilish expression on his face. One more kiss and he turned my head to reach my neck. His lips on my skin, his tongue tasting me – I could only breathe and sigh and moan. And he loved when I did.

More… he had to have more. And so did I. He kissed his way down my neck, over my throat, to my chest, licking and sucking along his path. He had to take his hand from my thigh… because he needed to hold my breast in his hand and feed my nipple to his mouth.

I closed my eyes. My head fell back and I sighed when he tasted me there. It felt amazing… and I felt beautiful. His mouth on me… his tongue finding every single part of me that drove me mad for him… perfect. I snuck a hand between us and found him, hot and ready for me. In that moment, I felt his moan on my skin, through my skin, under my skin. And before I could miss his warm wet tongue, it was back on me, teasing me, tasting me.

Though I loved holding the heat of him in my hand, twisting slowly, squeezing my fingers gently around him, I had to surrender that to my body. I guided him to me. And I was ready for him. Dying for him. He slid into me easily… smoothly… completely. And the moment he did, our breath quickened. There was moaning… and panting… and whispering each other’s names.

I rocked my hips into his, writhing on him. I couldn’t stop… or slow. And he loved it because he never wanted any of it to end. He grabbed my hips tighter and dragged his lips… his tongue… up over my heart, my neck. He kissed my chin, gently biting me, on his way to my mouth. With the most delicious sounds escaping his mouth, he sucked my lower lip between his own lips.

kiss.

When he grabbed my hips and pushed himself up under me, I thought I might scream. He was perfect. I gasped and bit my lip to stop myself from actually letting that scream escape. His grip on me tightened again, knowing he was about to explode inside me, but wanting to wait for me to go there with him. He didn’t have to wait long. In seconds, I met him there and that perfect moment lingered.

When I felt his hold on me relax, I lost my breath and collapsed onto his chest. His arms immediately surrounded me.

“Oh honey…” He panted, his words whispery and sexy as hell. “My God, you are so so good to me…”

I smiled into my own heavy breaths. “You…” I sighed, “are irresistible… and so hot.”

He laughed at my words, knowing they flew from my mouth without my head filtering anything. And knowing that even though he couldn’t see my face, I was blushing. And again he spoke, deep and soft and breathy. “I just couldn’t wait a second longer to have you.”

“I noticed.”

About what sandra thinks

Sandra is a writer, sometimes blogger, poet, artist, emotional disaster. She thinks far too much and sleeps far too little. Sandra lives in the Northeastern U.S. but dreams of an oceanfront home in Italy, but she would settle for a non-oceanfront home in Italy. She loves books, brutal honesty, coffee, and the color black. She hates insincerity, beer, whipped cream, and facebook. And she is uncomfortable talking about herself in the third person.

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