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About:
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It was deliberate
and sensual this time, filled with all
the passion he poured into his
vocation, drawing Belle onto the tips
of her toes. Knowing suddenly that
this is what she had wanted since
she picked up that phone, she
pushed her fingers through his thick
hair to the back of his head, pulling
him in.
Arousal stirred between her legs for
the first time in over a week, desire
burning in her core as she grabbed
at him with increasing urgency.
Strong hands clutched her waist,
almost lifting her, as a fervent
tongue explored her mouth. She
pushed her hand down brazenly
between them and needily massaged
the growing bulge in his tight
trousers.
"Not here," Belle insisted
breathlessly, her reverence for
Harold’s studio winning over her
immediate lust for him. Without a
question, he led her by the hand to
another immaculate room further
down the hall, closing the door and
turning to face her at foot of the
king-sized bed.
"Are you sure?" The question alone
made her doubly so. She answered
with a smile and a kiss, enjoying
becoming accustomed to his soft
lips, sliding an exploratory hand up
the inside of his shirt to feel his
smooth chest which radiated the
warmth she now wished could
embrace her at all times.
Harold eased the thin straps of her
dress from her shoulders, guiding it
down her body to the floor, leaving
her in naught but a small pair of
white cotton underwear, on the front
of which a tiny damp spot had
formed. He lifted her out of the pile
of red material and laid her down on
the plush duvet as delicately as one
might a newborn baby, placing light
kisses along her torso as he crawled
up over her. As he went to kiss her
again, she tugged at his t-shirt
without much success in removing it
until he obliged in aiding her
efforts.
There was an easiness to their clinch
which she had never experienced
before. Everything seemed a rush, a
race, to the handful of boys she had
slept with before, but Harold
seemed contrastingly measured in
his approach to exploring and
enjoying her body, slowly running
his hands over her with the
apparent intent of physically
memorising all that she was. It was
Belle, in fact, whose primal need
drove the pace of proceedings, albeit
without resistance from her attentive
partner.
Her hand again reached between
them, this time squeezing inside his
waistband and coming into direct
contact with his rigid member; he
gasped into their kiss as her fingers
closed tightly around him. He
started to grind against her
attempted strokes, but the
constriction of his trousers fast
became a frustration to them both.
It took him but a few seconds to
dispose of the remainder of his
garments, giving Belle full,
unfettered access to his swollen
cock.
She stroked it slowly, rubbing her
palm over the weeping glans and
spreading the viscous fluid over the
length of his stiff shaft, her other
hand slipping unconsciously into her
own panties to feel the slickness he
had induced in her, readying her
entrance for their intimate union.
Belle needed the man who had
made her feel so beautiful, so sexy—
so wanted—to fill her void, and she
told him as much with her wanton
eyes.
The condom rolled easily over his
hardness, and Harold matched her
intensity in the swift and forceful
removal of her underwear, and the
way he pushed just the tip of his
fingers into her dripping pussy, a
tease before the main event for
which her body practically begged.
Belle whimpered at his touch and
pushed her hips towards him,
pushing his fingers in just a
centimetre further than he had
intended.
Their kiss was tenderly firm at the
moment when his length gently
penetrated her and slid into her
greatest depths. Harold paused,
searching her eyes once again for a
signal, while a breathless Belle
allowed her body to adjust to her
lover and enjoy the ability to savour
the feeling of a thick cock deep
within her. A loving smile gave him
the go-ahead, and his hips began a
slow back and forth, gradually
building to a steady, rhythmic fuck.
The rotation of Belle’s pelvis added
a new dimension to the cacophony
of sensations they felt, causing
Harold’s breath to catch in his
throat more than once, invariably
followed by a thankful smile.
The intense stare they shared never
wavered throughout, every minuscule
part of his pale blue irises becoming
a most cherished memory, the feel of
his hot breath on her skin enflaming
her desire all the more. As his
thrusts became slams against her
sensitive pussy, she began to feel
the pressure of an orgasm build, but
the familiar sensation that grew
within her brought with it a curious
uniqueness which she was unable to
identify. Harold must have sensed
her impending climax, for he held
her tight at the waist and adjusted
the angle of his entry, pushing up
into her in the hope of a collision
with the spot that was sure to drive
her over the edge.
His skillful ploy quickly paid off as
Belle’s eyes glazed over while her
fingers dug painfully into Harold’s
back, and a great seismic surge
coursed through her body. Harold
struggled to keep a grip on her
wildly spasming body which
shuddered and tremored and bucked
against him while a mixture of high
squeals and grumbling moans of
pleasure filled the room. It seemed
unending, and Belle must have
appeared to him to be lost to
another world, but her mind was
only with him—his perfect eyes; his
soothing voice; his comforting
warmth. This was the uniqueness
she had felt, the factor which ranked
the experience beyond compare with
even the most intense, wand-
induced orgasms she had ever had.
The prolonged tensing of her
muscles and gyration against the
determined Harold’s hips brought on
his own orgasm quite unexpectedly,
and he cried out as his cock
throbbed and swelled inside her,
unleashing a generous volume of his
thick ejaculate, filling the strained
condom to bursting point. Belle felt
the pulse of his climax against her,
blended in with the glorious
concoction of sensations that
swamped her body.
She blindly reached out to kiss him,
bumping clumsily against his lips
before uniting in their steamy
passion until gradually their orgasms
subsided and their bodies relaxed
into each other on the enormous
bed. Slipping from her and swiftly
disposing of the bulging, semen-
filled sheath, Harold pulled her
close in his arms, reassuring her
with his presence and his warmth.
Her naked body curled against his,
and she let out a long, contended
sigh, not a solitary worry rattling
around her head, threatening to
ruin this perfect moment.
As she lay her head on his chest,
quietly she whispered to him,
"Thank you, Harold."
He put his arm around her, hugging
her tight. "For what?"
"For stopping that day; for the
sandwich; for the shoot. For this."
Belle paused for a moment, the true
significance of Harold’s appearance
in her life dawning on her for the
first time. "You saved my life."
His lips met her forehead by way of
response, and they lay there, one. A
tear rolled down her cheek to the
corner of her smile, and she closed
her eyes, listening to the beat of his
heart. In that moment, she no
longer wanted to be anyone but
Belle. In his arms, she was
everything she wanted to be.
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