Date Night with Jack

We have just watched, "Hitman," for the first time, and my blood is simmering with the desire to do naughty things to the dangerous ingénue of the movie.

Jack, however, is here, and warm, and my fingers begin to flex in anticipation of wrapping them around his body.

Soon, we are kissing and my body is wrapped around his until I have pressed him onto his back and my body holds his down. His breathing is quick, my beautiful partner is not normally very submissive, but he enjoys it when I sometimes take charge.

It isn't long before I have stripped his shirt from his skin, exposing the smooth expanse of his chest, and dragged his jeans to his ankles, leaving them there as an impromptu hobble. I love seeing him like this, vulnerable and aroused and so incredibly desirable.

I take my time in teasing him: nibbles to his ears, his neck. Sharp nips to his nipples, his lips, while he gasps, moans, twists beneath me.

My shirt is gone, my bra shortly after, and I drag my breasts over his lightly heaving chest, down the flat planes of his stomach and over the swelling arousal at his groin.

His hips shift upward, a silent plea, but I continue to take my time, lingering with lips and tongue at the juncture of hip and groin while he groans and whimpers a little, rubbing my cheek cat-like against his warm cock.

This is my partner, my lover, and the only person for whom I do this, the only person whose cock I will slowly envelope with my mouth, slowly wrap my lips around and stroke with long, slow laps of my tongue. He is the only one for whom I will press myself to my limit, taking him into my mouth and my throat until my lips touch his groin and my lightly spasming throat strokes the head of his cock.

With others, I will play, I will tease, I will tempt you with what you can't have, but only to Jack will I give all of myself, and I do tonight.

Tonight, I stroke him with lips, teeth, and tongue, pressing his hands into the bed and forcing him still while I suck him, stroke him, tease him to the brink and then back off.

Shortly he is writhing beneath me while I hold him down with my will at least as much as my hands, eventually settling into an slow rhythm that drags him ever so slowly toward the brink until he is shuddering like a fly-stung horse as I slowly, inexorably, drag him over the brink until he spasms inside of me, filling me, and my hands gentle around his wrists while I swallow him inside of me.