At Darren’s insistence we remained naked all four days. At first I objected. My pendulous breasts at their proud youngest had never been perky and now seemed to me like next day party balloons. You know, still inflated just no longer pressing against the ceiling of a room but levitating a few inches below. I feel self conscious without some support.
“I love to watch your breasts sway, their softness you know,” he assured me. “The way your nipples point straight ahead is so sexy, you don’t know how beautiful you look.”
“I prefer wearing at least a bra and panties,” I argued, “I feel sexier in lingerie.” I never like being completely nude. “Besides, you don’t have to worry about stuff pouring out of you and running down your legs!”
“That settles it then, I like the idea of my stuff running down your legs,” Darren quipped, adding, “And this is MY castle.”
The castle was very warm, Darren said he had air conditioning but rarely used it. The cross ventilation of the gulf breeze through jalousie windows at the front and back of the house did actually keep it comfortable. We swam in the pool, cooked in the kitchen together, had breakfast on the veranda overlooking the street and the beach beyond, sat around and talked while listening to music, we even watched a movie on TV together, all in the nude. By the end of the first day I had grown completely at ease with our nudity, by the end of the fourth, the sense of freedom I got from it was incredible.
The joy on Darren’s face and the twinkle in his eyes as he watched me was probably the biggest contributor to my newfound enjoyment of being nude. I loved to catch him watching me with that smile on his face.
The other wonderful part of being nude was watching Darren’s body. So fit and taut it was all I could do to keep from constantly touching him. His smooth dark skin seemed clear of any imperfection. His scars, there were a few others besides the shoulder and face, were simply part of him. His cock was perfect, please indulge me a description here, because while I find most erections amazing, flaccid penises are often downright ugly. I mean my husband George’s seven-inch unit become a wrinkly four-inch stub when flaccid, and James’ spent monster strains downward from his body like a sock filled with overcooked peas. When erect both are splendid cocks, when soft they are penises. Darren’s erection was an upward sweeping circumcised pole, firm and dark and strong enough to support itself at an acute angle. When soft it arched straight out for the first inch or so then cleared his testicles in a graceful downward curve that barely lost size. The last third of it dangled loosely and I loved watching the burgundy colored head dance about as he walked naked around the house. After every incredible new episode of our sex he would walk to the kitchen, if we weren’t already there, to return with two glasses of something to drink. I would get wet all over again just watching the head of his penis flipping about as he approached. Perhaps I should always call his cock a cock.
The first time he pushed that deep dark pole of a cock into me was a thrill. I was on my back on the bed. We left a light on. Darren was standing at the edge with his large hands holding my thighs as if handles of a wheelbarrow. He had just been licking my pussy. His tongue on my sex felt as taut and lean as the rest of his body. I wished he would push a finger into me but he didn’t. I couldn’t bear it for long and began asking him to fuck me. He stood between my legs, his rigid pole suspended over my belly. The blackness of it was exotic. His black body looked so powerful, so beautiful. I had never been with a black man before. I was incredibly excited, the pounding of my heart echoing in my every extremity, my chest wanting more air and my skin craving more touch, but I remained still. My eyes drank in the sight of him. My vagina, already wet from his tonguing began to gush anew. I remember wondering somewhat comically to myself if after this I would ever be able to go back.
Darren leaned in and tipped his hips so his cock made contact with the skin of my lower belly then slowly pulled back dragging his cock off of me. With his hands still busy holding my legs he carefully drew the head across my tiny bikini patch of pubic hair and down along my denuded pussy lips until it was positioned at my opening. It was such sweet torture. I wanted to pull him in with my lower legs but I had given myself to his power and let him exercise it. After a brief exchange of smiles he just as slowly began pushing it into me. I could feel everything, the initial force of my vagina being stretched open, the ridge of the head passing in through the entrance and every inch of his stiff length filling me up. He was more than George, wider and bit longer, a pleasing comfortable pressure nowhere near the painful challenge of James. My comic mind made me think of Goldilocks. When Darren began to stroke out and back into me a little faster all thought vanished. I closed my eyes. He fucked me with a consistent rhythm, he fucked me hard, and he fucked me for a long time. I repeatedly opened my eyes to watch. I loved seeing that dark shaft disappear inside of me. The exotic sight of it made my swoon. He brought me very close to orgasm, so close, and he kept me there the whole time. He was torturing my senses and I began feeling the frustration of never getting closer. More than anything else I wanted to come, I needed the release. When I finally reached down with my fingers he stopped me and said, “Wait”
He pushed my legs up onto his shoulders and leaned in on them tilting my pelvis. Everything changed, the angle changed, the head of his cock pumped powerfully along my g-spot and in just a few strokes my body surrendered to the orgasm. “Harder!” I said, “Harder!” as my body began to pull and shudder. “Oh Good God!”
When my orgasm passed he pulled out and shot pearly white strings out onto my stomach. That too was beautiful. He then lowered himself onto me and we kissed as the sticky stuff between us made funny noises whenever we moved. We remained glued together kissing and laughing until we grew quiet with our faces against each other’s necks.
The next thing I knew the light of dawn was brightening the room. Darren was next to me on his side watching me. When I turned my head to look at him he said, “Good morning beautiful.”
I said “Good morning sexy man.” I rolled toward him and we kissed, my hand went down to find his cock fully rigid. “Waiting for me?”
“Roll the other way.” He said. He snaked an arm beneath and around me putting his hand on my breast and pulled me close. His other hand reached over me to dive between my legs. I lifted my upper thigh and his fingers worked down. Without much playing he hooked two of them into me and pulled up making me gasp. A moment later his cock was there and he used his fingers to guide it into me. He fucked me for quite a long time while playing me with his fingers. I came two or three times contracting fiercely on his cock before he finally asked me what I liked for breakfast.
“Coffee with Baileys.”
“I’m making you an omelet.” He said as he got up and went into the bathroom and turned on the shower.
I realized there was no sign anywhere in me or on the bed that Darren had come in the morning. I went into the bathroom, walked into the walk-in shower and asked if he wanted company. Before we were done he brought me to another orgasm by fucking me against the tile of the shower wall still without reaching an orgasm of his own.
When I walked into the kitchen, I found Darren, pouring his egg mixture into a pan, wearing an apron. “Hey,” I said, “What’s this? That’s not naked.”
“Cooking requires an apron,” he said. “There’s one for you if you cook.” He nodded toward a blue apron hanging on a hook in the corner of the kitchen. When he turned toward the sink his naked back and butt looked sexier than ever.
“Can I put it on now?” I asked.
“No, but you can wear it when you make lunch,” he replied.
“Yeah, can you handle BLT’s?” he teased.
“I can’t stay for lunch,”
“Of course you can.”
“I don’t have anything to wear, I don’t have any makeup.” I said.
“All you need is an apron and you look more beautiful to me than any woman ever has just as you are.” He said.
“Yeah right, then why haven’t you gotten off having sex with me today?” I asked
He smiled at me, a big toothy Eddy Murphy type grin. “Oh, that,” he said, “That’s not you, that’s me, I have a very high threshold for pain. Special Forces, and all.”
“What’s pain got to do with…”
“Pleasure too, you know it’s all the same sensors.”
“But yesterday, you came so…so.” I hesitated.
“It’s been a while and you are extremely exciting.”
When we finished breakfast he told me to go into the bedroom and lie face down on the bed. I did as he asked. He stayed in the kitchen and cleaned up. At first I got very excited lying there wondering what this unique man had in store for me next. He took his time in the kitchen however and by the time he walked into the bedroom I was very relaxed and on the edge of sleep.
The bed responding to his weight startled me alert. His hands were on my back, oily with something, gliding together first up towards my shoulders then downward over the small of my back and my ass. He smacked my ass cheek and I wiggled my butt and pushed it up a little. He smacked it again. I wiggled again. He bent close to my ear, “I love the way you respond.”
I turned my head so I could look back at him and smiled when I saw his cock again hardening into that nice straight pole. “I can see that,” I said. He smacked my other cheek.
He pulled me to all fours with him between my legs. His tongue found my wetness from behind, his face pressing firmly into the cleft of my bottom. A moment later he shifted his weight and his cock slid into me, we moaned together at the sensation. Then he began working me, riding me in a steady rhythm, sometimes draped over me with his chest on my back and his weight on me, other times just his hand on my back and that incredible cock sliding deep into me. It felt so good.
I like it when a man finds a steady rhythm he can maintain. At first I am impatient and want it harder and harder. I try to push back. When the man is confident and in control he gets me past that and I relax into the rhythm. I submitted fully to the consistent dependable feeling of Darren’s cock driving into me from behind, wanting him to go forever. When I reared my head up he grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled my head back further. “Yes,” I panted. The pace of our sex increased. I pushed back hard against him and suddenly the beast within Darren broke out.
“You feel so fucking good,” he said in a deep rich growl and he began ramming into me so hard, pulling me back against him so painfully by my hair, that his angry fury scared me at first before it carried me away.
By the time Darren hard pumped his load inside me I was face down flat on the bed again. I was completely engulfed in orgasm, my body quivering beneath his weight, one of his large hands lightly on my head, the other between my breast and the mattress, my moans nothing but a continuous whimper. I became aware of my vagina milking his cock for a long while after I grew silent. I smiled to myself wondering if this is what true sexual satisfaction feels like only to begin worrying in the next moment, while fighting off an intense desire to take him into my mouth again, if George was right that I was truly insatiable.
Neither of us went to the beach that day. We roamed the house naked, swimming at times in the lanai-enclosed pool, sunning on the veranda off the kitchen on the second floor. Peering through the plants lining the perimeter of the veranda we could see the entire beach without anyone being able to see us.
“You were stalking me from here!” I said.
“Yes, I guess I was.” He admitted.
“Is that why you walked by me on the beach everyday?”
“No, I’ve been swimming here since I bought this place two years ago. But that first day I walked past you lying there I wanted to turn back and look at you.”
“But you didn’t want me to see your scar.”
“I often stayed late at the beach waiting for you to return.”
“I swim to the end of the island and run back.”
“Barefoot? Over two miles?” I had already felt the hard soles of his feet and now knew why.
“Yeah, it’s better training. Anyway, after that first day I always waited for you to show up before I went for my swim.”
“I began looking forward to seeing you walk by. It bothered me that you never looked back, that you never seemed to pay any attention to me.”
“Oh I paid attention all right, three days before yesterday when I made sure I would be there in time to apply your sunscreen…three days before that I masturbated to the image of you on that beach chair…the first time other than Sanaa since I left Iraq.”
“Oh my,” I turned toward him, both of his arms encircling me.
“It was liberating,” he said, “After that, overcoming my scar and approaching you became something I had to do.”
“That doesn’t sound much like liberation.” I teased.
“Something I wanted to do.” He said, sliding both his hands down onto my ass pulling me against him for a new round of kisses.
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