Catherine_(2)

I used to think sex was so unimportant, so over-hyped. I assumed it was just a hormonal trap, a way for women to get what they want, and for men, well, it is what they want.
Of course, I was a barely pubescent kid back then. Now I’m a man myself. I’m only twenty two, but I’ve been a man since I was thirteen. I was an early developer, I guess. I was overweight most of my teenage years, leaving me with a bit of an aversion to people. I used to have horrible anxiety attacks, but those faded as my confidence grew. See, I started my life as a gym rat when I was fifteen. I’d been going there for a while, but that was more for the exercise. I was almost sedentary before that. Now, though, well… Let’s say that seven years of lifting does wonders for the physique.

I got laid. A lot. It used to be a foreign concept, though I had all my shitty pickup lines before. Here’s a tip, guys: Don’t break the ice. Be nice, be assertive, be confident, and the ice will melt for you. So will she, and that’s the goal, right?
Well, anyway, I was having a lot of sex. It gets boring, after a while. There was no variety to it! I mean, women are all different, but the sex was the same! I figured that it was time to get into some kinks. Something that could really excite me.

Over the next few months, I was devouring all kinds of odd fetishes. I was going through so much porn in a week, Kleenex must’ve had a 5% bump in the stock market. My libido was at an all-time high, having avoided direct penis-to-vagina contact for a whole week. I was ready, equipped with all kinds of new fetishes and had the perfect level of stubble. You guys know how hard it is to get that perfect level of stubble? It can take days of grooming, honestly.

Anyway, I made my way to one of the nightclubs in town – one that was known for its swinging patrons – and ordered myself a cocktail to sip on. I was casually perusing the women, taking my time, mentally undressing them and putting them in all kinds of lewd positions, when my eyes fell on a goddess of a woman.
She was a stunner. Silky, jet back hair flowed over her shoulders to the small of her back, ending in little curls. Her skin looked so soft, as if anything harder than a gentle caress would bruise her. Her eyes were dark and smouldering, lightly accented with an Asian heritage. She wasn’t too curvy, but god, her body was magnificent. Soft lines with no hard edges, all clad in a tight, seductive dress. She was out to kill, and she was succeeding.
She was already talking with another man, but I had to take my chances. I had to have her. Quickly, I buried any insecurities I had, and made my leisurely way to this Aphrodite. I caught the man’s gaze, and sent him a look. My best look. The one that said, “Leave now. She’s mine.”

Apparently, he got the message, because a few seconds later, he mumbled an apology to the lady and walked away. She looked a little crestfallen, too. Well, I could always use that to my advantage. I walked over to her, and let my magic run free.
“Hey, you alright? I saw that guy ditch you, and –
“So you were watching me, then?” she inquired, a glimmer of challenge in her eyes. Perhaps she wasn’t as upset as she seemed. Damn.
“I, ah, well… Yes, I was. How could I not? You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
“Well, at least you’re honest about it.”
“Uh, yeah. So, what’s your name?”

Normally I’m a master of words. Language is, after all, the tool of seduction. You don’t grab your junk and grunt and froth at the mouth, like whatever the fuck the music industry’s showing, you use your words to make her do that. This woman, though, she may as well have cut out my tongue.
It was a very slow night, with slow progress. We traded quips back and forth until the early morning, when we were both smashed. Her name was Catherine, she preferred black lovers, and I was white. I was fucking screwed. Still, summoning all of the drunken courage I could muster, I invited her to stay at my place. Surprisingly enough, she agreed.

The moment the door shut behind us, my mouth was on hers. Her lips were molten, and her tongue was made of fire. It was passionate, hot and hungry. We kissed like it would save us, redeem us from the fiery pit of hell our lust had doomed us to. Hands roamed, feeling out every curve, every muscle, every feature our bodies had to share. My bed couldn’t have been further away.
My shirt was ruined, buttons flying in every direction as Catherine literally tore it off. It was all I could do not to fall to my knees as she trailed little kisses all over my body. Slowly and seductively, she traced the edges of her lips with her tongue, looking up at me teasingly as she settled down on her knees.
My breath caught in my throat as she undid my buckle, letting my pants fall to the floor. I was pent up, every animal instinct screaming at me to release this pressure, to take her and make her mine. Innocently, she started to work my shaft with her hand, slow and teasing. All the while, she looked up at me with those smouldering, seductive eyes. Her breath was hot against me, and then she took me into her mouth.

She was incredible. Hot and cold, perfect in every way. I could have died then, because I was already in heaven. That one moment could have lasted an eternity, and I’d never have known the difference. It was rapture in its finest. I felt my cock begin to throb, and knew that the time was coming. Before I could mutter a word of warning, she pulled back just a fraction of a second before there was no turning back. She fluttered her eyelashes at me, innocence and humour sparkling at me.

My breathing was rough and haggard, and steamed in the chilly air.
“Should I turn the heater on, or are we going to warm up the proper way?” I joked, needing a moment to piece myself back together. She smiled seductively, and without saying a word, slid effortlessly out of her dress, letting it pool around her feet on the floor. She was wearing black lace lingerie, and could easily have worked as a Victoria’s Secret model. God damn, she was hot.
She stalked toward me, silent and deadly. A panther, a predator. My mouth wasn’t responding, I couldn’t say anything. She melted into me, and pulled me into a scorching, sinful kiss.
“Undress me.”

It was all she needed to say. I unclasped her bra, and she pulled me in tighter, her nails digging into my back. I winced in pain, but bore through it. I scooped her up, and she wrapped her legs around my waist.
Moaning into my mouth, Catherine started to grind against me, wetness seeping through her panties as they rubbed against my abs. I backpedaled and was lucky enough to fall back onto my bed, because in that moment, she was all over me.
She couldn’t get enough. I wasn’t a man, I was a piece of meat. She devoured me, tracing searing kisses all over my naked body, running her hands all over whatever she couldn’t wrap her lips around. She was aggressive, taking me as if I was her thing to own, growling with need.

I knew what to do. I pinned her down on the bed, immobilised her. Then, slowly, I traced lots of light, lingering kisses down her throat, delicately skirting down her breasts, to the waist of her soaked panties. It was my turn to get aggressive. I tore her panties off, and there was the prize I was seeking. I took her into my mouth, giving her clit long, slow strokes with my tongue, feeling out every bump, every little detail her body had to give to me. It wasn’t long before she was a quaking mess, bucking fiercely against my face. Those fierce growls had turned into soft whimpers, and those whimpers were now the loud moans echoing around me.

“FUCK ME!” she screamed, and so I granted her wish. Giving her a growl of my own, I pinned her back down, grinning triumphantly at her. My cock was resting on her delicate pussy, and we started grinding, rubbing and hoping that would satisfy our burning need.
“Are you ready, Catherine?”
“Take me! Make me yours! Oh GOD, just fuck me!”
Her dirty talking did it for me. I needed her. Leaning down and catching her lips with mine, I aligned myself and slowly pushed inside her. God, she was good. Every movement was the touch of an angel, every thrust was the beckoning of hell. She was moaning, lurching, writhing underneath me, whimpering and pleading me to do more.

“Harder,” she begged, “faster.”
I picked up the pace, allowing my instincts to take over, fucking her with wild abandon. I was animalistic and powerful, and she was my prey. She was mine. I was seeing haze, my mind consumed by this Aphrodite, Catherine. She clamped her legs around my back and screamed in orgasm, her pussy gripping me like a vice. I grabbed the bed frame, roared, and came. And came. And came. It was as if there was no end, or maybe that moment just stretched out forever.

But when we were done, we were a sweaty, sticky mess. We held each other then, with no words left to say. We cuddled up, and slept.
When I woke up, sex was heavy in the air. My arm was wrapped around a woman who was sexy as fuck, and I didn’t have a hangover. Life is good.