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The Hidden

He took the time to look deeper and was rewarded


They had been texting for a couple of days after a few emails. He gave her his number. She gave him hers. He decided to call her first, curious to hear if the voice matched her picture.

"Hello," she answered matter-of-factly. Her voice was husky and it made his cock tingle slightly.

"Hello, Lily," he responded. He learned more about the seemingly innocent woman whose picture captured his initial attention, and whose profile kept it with her frank yet sassy attitude. They had made plans to meet in her city at her favorite coffee house in two days time.

He double checked himself in the mirror, his face was shaved, his short brown hair was styled, his white shirt and gray slacks clung just right to his tall, slim frame. He frowned at the hereditary, slightly dark circles under his chestnut brown eyes, but he felt confident when he left the house. He texted her saying he would be a few minutes later, to which she responded that it wasn't a problem. 

He was a little later than he had indicated, but he was relieved to find her in the coffee house. She was wearing her red hair down and it looked as suggestively disheveled as it did in her picture. Her long, black, sleeveless dress hugged her ample cleavage but didn't expose it. Her short fingers ended in long oval nails painted a shiny oxblood color, that accented her rosy pale skin. Her makeup was done naturally, unlike most of the overdone Hollywood/LA type girls he was used to meeting. Her brows were shaped, but not filled or exaggerated. Her small, rosy, pouty mouth only had the faintest sheen. But it was her eyes that did him in. They were more gorgeous in person, a kaleidoscope of gray, blue, and green that had a lupine quality to them.

"Lily?"

"Hi, James," she replied in her dark honey voice with a warm smile. She took a sip of her drink. "Have any trouble finding parking?"

They talked, mainly about movies and his experience as a struggling actor-slash-writer, and her philosophy of how English (her major in college and her career as a professor), especially in analyzing literature, can be used to analyze movies as well.

She held his gaze. While her body language was demure, he noticed something dark, sensuous, and hungry in her eyes, and it excited him. But he wasn't ready to ask just yet.

"Wanna go for a walk?" he asked instead.

She smiled. "Love to."

They talked more about random things as she gave him a tour of the downtown area they were at, the local history, mainly. She steered them to a used bookstore nestled in the back of an old building, where she expounded on her time working in a university library, and where in the Library of Congress system one could find books on sexuality (HQ). They walked between the aisles and she looked up at him, and bit her lip, looking sultry and vulnerable simultaneously.

"May I kiss you?" she asked. 

"You may," he responded. 

She had to stand on her tiptoes, so he bent down to meet her lips. Her lips touched his whisper gently. They were warm, incredibly soft, and she tasted like the chai tea she drank earlier. Her scent was sweet like vanilla and bergamot mixed with the smell of the old books that surrounded them. The very tip of her tongue touched his lips as they kept their lips locked, and his heart started to race. 

"Wow," she whispered, "I felt that from my head to my hips."

He stood, still stunned and his body humming. He bent down to her ear. "Take me home with you."

He followed her to her apartment nearby. The place was small, but clean despite the books scattered here and there. He was also pleasantly surprised to find that there was no overwhelming "girly" smells, just her intoxicating scent.

She led him to her bedroom, where a button on a remote by her night stand turned on LED candles, giving the room a gentle glow and enough light so he could see her and what he was doing. The California king sized bed was made with dark red linens. 

He took her hands and guided them so her arms were around his neck. He traced her arms lightly with his hands and felt her shiver as she closed her eyes and bit her lip. His hands moved to the back of her head and he kissed her, feeling her lips as his hands worked down the zipper of her dress, making her draw in her breath. Without separating their mouths, he slipped the dress off and let his hands roam her back, feeling soft, smooth, warm skin. He dug his fingers into her back and heard a soft, moaning growl from her throat. 

"Did you just growl?" James asked.

"I did," Lily answered. "Does it disturb you?"

"Actually, I think it's hot. Never met a woman that comfortable with her wild side before."

He took a look at her. She was the antithesis of the type of woman he was supposed to want. Short, with a belly, big ass, big thighs, big tits, but her skin was clear and her confidence was genuine. Her bra was the same red as her nails, lacy, and displayed the swell of her breasts irresistibly. Her panties were lacy boy shorts. She made no attempt to hide and instead, crawled on her bed, then came to her knees so she was almost his height.

She took his face in her hands and without breaking eye contact, used her thumb to trace his brows, then her index finger to trace his straight, small nose, then her thumb again to trace the outline of his lips before she licked them. His cock, already hard, was now throbbing painfully against his slacks. 

She unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, but with graceful intent. When she slipped his shirt off, she grabbed him by the neck and pulled him closer to her, her lips leaving lingering kisses on his jaw before grazing her teeth on his neck. He grabbed her ass and moaned quietly as she licked up his neck and bit his ear. He was pleasantly surprised to find her ass was more muscular than he thought, feeling the hard muscle underneath the pliable softness. Her mouth moved down his chest, alternating between licking, biting, and kissing, and she tongued his belly button like it was a pussy, giggled, and undid his belt and pants.

"Do you normally go commando?" she inquired amusingly.

"Not normally."

"Didn't have any clean underwear?" she joked.

"That, and I had a good feeling about you," he replied with a smile as he climbed on the bed. "Let's even things up, here." He kissed her firmly as his hands undid her bra, and she slipped it off without breaking away from him, as he took her heavy breasts in his hands, thumbing the nipples, producing a low moan from her.

"Lay down," he asked. She did as he told. She looked in his eyes as he surveyed her again. There was a gracefulness in her form. His finger went on her solar plexus, tracing the three-inch scar. 

"I was at the wrong party at the wrong time," she explained casually.

He put his tongue on the scar and traced it, then moved to her left nipple, taking it in his mouth and sucking like he was thirsty. He squeezed the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, producing short moans from her as she gently tugged his hair and massaged his scalp. Her scent was stronger and he wanted to lose himself in it. If she was all he could smell for the rest of his life, he would never be discontent again.

"I have to taste you, Lily" James pleaded as he took off her panties. "May I?"

"You may."

That was all he needed to hear. His hands gently spread her legs open, and he admired her pussy, hairless, glistening. It was perfect. It was inviting. It made his mouth water, and he wasted no time, lying on his stomach and lowering his mouth, taking one long, slow lick from her pussy opening--drenched in her juices--to her engorged clit. She tasted like nothing or no one he had ever tasted. "Oh my God, you taste amazing," he mused before sticking his tongue in her pussy, licking her from within, wanting every drop.

Her only response was short, breathy moans. His hands found hers and he held them as his tongue and mouth performed their ministrations, until he had to hold her hips in place to keep her from moving too much. The more he licked her, the harder he got, which he didn't think was possible.

He pulled himself away--very difficult for him to do--and fished a condom out of his pants pocket. He put it on and climbed on top of her.

"Do you want me inside you?" He asked. Her pupils here large, and her expression was filled with desire, but still defiant.

"Yes."

"Tell me," he ordered as he teased her clit with the head of his cock.

She licked her lips, not breaking eye contact. "I want your dick inside of me. Right. Fucking. Now."

He kissed her neck as he pushed slowly inside her. She was tight but so wet that he could ease in without too much effort. Every one of his nine inches made her gasp. Her nails ran down his back, and he shuddered in the erotic pain. He withdrew his cock slowly and found she got tighter around it. It wasn't until the gripping became rhythmic that he figured out that she was manipulating her muscles to grip him. 

"How long do we have?" he asked.

"All night long," she answered, her pillowy lips a whisper from his.

He thrust himself inside her, their kisses a soft contrast against the hard thrusting. Her hips met his thrusts so the head of his cock was consistently massaging her cervix. She rarely broke eye contact except to express pleasure. Her hands grabbed his ass, scratched his back, massaged his scalp. All of his senses were alive and overloading, but he found himself wanting more.

"Get on top of me," he ordered, losing control of his manners and all sense of decorum or decency. She was the subject of his pleasure, reminding him through her body of something primal, something he didn't know he lost, but he was grateful to have found it.

She deftly shifted her hips and gripped his shoulders, and he worked with her to flip themselves without breaking contact. She was still lacking any self-consciousness, as her hips started undulating and grinding deep. She sat up, so he could get a view of her breasts, which he cupped in his hands as she threw her head back and moaned. She was still manipulating her muscles so she gripped his cock tighter downstroke. 

In a sensuous haze of it all, he noted how he didn't feel crushed. He gripped her hips as he thrust in tandem with her. 

He was close, but he didn't want to cum until she did first. He held her hips still.

"Please don't, James, I'm so close," she pleaded. 

He guided her hips, and her moaning got progressively louder her sweet juices were running down his cock and balls. Her face made the most beautiful expressions of pleasure and vulnerability, her perfect mouth open and moaning. Their bodies were covered in a  sheen of sweat. 

"Oh, fuck!" She exclaimed before she let out a long moan. Her already tight pussy clenched his shaft even tighter as he felt her warm gush flow over his cock and down his balls.

She didn't quit undulating her hips, and soon enough, James let out a growl as he came for what felt like ages. She tightened her pussy against him, milking his cock and prolonging his orgasm. He felt like if he came anymore, he was going to pass out. 

"Mercy, baby, please!" he begged. 

In one swift movement, she dismounted him. She kissed his forehead and licked the sweat off his brow before kissing his eyelids ever so gently before collapsing beside him. 

He scooped her up, her back against his chest, his hand mindlessly massaging her thighs.

"Oh my god," he declared. "How is it men aren't fighting over you?"

She giggled, a deceptively girlish sound coming from such a primal woman. 

"Most guys don't bother to look deeper. Those who do... well, let's say I've had no complaints."

He kissed her neck, and licked the sweat from off of it, like it was something he always did.

"You are an addictive woman," he stated. "You're a secret I want to keep."

 

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