Tailspin
mp3 Tailspin
“Sloan, what is this?”
I close the door, watching as she throws her purse into the chair and slides her coat down her arms. I don’t know how she does it, but even after spending the day chasing behind one trauma after the other, she still can emerge from the hospital smelling clean, and fresh, and divine, as she breezes past me into the apartment. Stepping up behind her, I circle my arms around her waist, my hands flat on her stomach, my chin resting on her shoulder.
I look down at the spread on the floor, where her eyes have fallen, and smirk. Turning my head, I kiss her neck, my lips lightly nipping at the soft skin. My voice is low, below her ear, “It’s our version of a picnic. Because you will hardly allow me to be seen with you in public.”
She takes a deep breath and extends her neck slightly, for me. For the first time she doesn’t have anything to say. No quips about how I rarely deserve to be seen in public by myself. No biting remarks about how I’m lucky to see her at all. Nothing. Score one for Sloan. I admit it; I can’t help but hope I’ve gotten under her skin, just the slightest bit.
“Mark -“ Did I speak too soon? “You know I don’t have time for silly picnics, and walks in the park, and cuddling after a movie. I thought that you, of all people, would know we don’t have that luxury.”
I move my lips up, kissing the hollow beneath her ear and jaw line. My lips and tongue move over that soft, fluttering flesh, causing her eyes to close and her head to fall back. “Erica it doesn’t have to be all work and no play, you know.”
Slowly, over the months, she’s allowed me to show her that sex doesn’t have to be as determined and detached as surgery. We can have fun and actually enjoy ourselves. She’s always hesitant, but with only the slightest coaxing on my part, the vixen will emerge, pushing Dr. Hahn to the side. I get to see a side of her that no one ever knows exists. And it’s become my own mission to reveal more and more of that beautiful, but still strong, woman underneath.
Sliding my hands back to her hips I lift my head and urge her to step towards the red checked tablecloth, draped across my living room floor. “Let’s eat.”
***
The restaurant did an amazing job of preparing the cold tapas I requested. Lots of sensual small bites, flavors to be savored, and light sauces and soft cheeses to be sucked from fingertips. I reach across the divide between us, running my thumb across her lower lip and lift the pad to my mouth, swiping my tongue out to lick up the taste of the Baba Ghanoush, mixed with her beautiful essence. Her soft pink tongue slides out to gather the remnants, to trace the path of my thumb.
I raise my eyebrows at her, “Private picnicking does have its advantages.”
Erica’s eyes sweep over the contents of the tablecloth, as she leans back onto one of the pillows I’ve scattered on the floor for us. “When did you have time to do this today? Every time I looked at the board you had surgeries stacked back to back.”
“Erica, I didn’t plan this today.” Her blue eyes narrow slightly. I know she gets the insinuation, but I don’t know if she doesn’t want to accept it. If she doesn’t want to face it “Today was the day I planned this for.”
Again she doesn’t have a response. Hiding the smirk, I twist and reach into the insulated picnic basket. “I would say it’s time for some dessert.”
***
I hold the glass high above her, titling it and drizzling the dessert wine into her navel. It creates a cold splash across her stomach, a line of sweet liquid rolling down over her hip.
She squirms beneath me, as I sit up and set the glass to the side. Moving down her legs, my mouth lowers to her stomach sucking up the sugary nectar and licking the salt of her skin. My tongue moves over her stomach, seeking out every drop, my lips following the sweet trail along her hip. Her hips rise up, striving against me, but I grip her waist, holding her steady as I nip and lick at the curve of her hip. I can feel the heat radiating off her, the brush of her curls against my chest as she subconsciously tries to seek out any stimulation she can find.
My tongue trails up her side, mapping the contours of her body. I reach that juncture of her arm, breathing in the soft, delicate fragrance that is pure Erica. Her aroma, her desire, her essence. Moving over the rise of a breast, I kiss lightly up the soft flesh, circling kisses around her areola. She moans quietly and rolls her body slightly to the side that my touch is favoring.
I lean up, smiling down at her, as her eyes flutter open at the loss of contact and sensation. Reaching behind me I lift a large, ripe strawberry from the tray, bringing it to my mouth to bite off the tip. I lower the fruit to her skin, rubbing the flesh around her breast, leaving a trail of natural sweetness glistening on her skin. Tossing the spent fruit back on to the tray, I lift a second berry and slide it along the line of her lips. The pink flesh parts and a velvet muscle sneaks out to draw it onto her tongue. I let her get a juicy bite and lean down, drawing my hands away from her mouth. My tongue traces the path of the fruit before dipping into her mouth and sharing the sweetness.
Erica groans against me and her hands slide around to clutch at my back. The fruit forgotten, she engages the kiss, letting me lose myself in the feel of her sensual lips, the swipe of her arousing tongue as we share the natural sweet. I suck at her mouth, drinking her, the berry, everything into me. There’s no part of her I won’t devour; won’t taste at a moment’s invitation, won’t worship at the drop of a hat. And right now her sticky breast requires my obvious attention.
Swirling my tongue in figure eights around and over her sensitive nipple, I revel in the arch of her back, her need to have more of me on her, over her, in her. But, I tease her. It’s perhaps my favorite thing. To feel her wanton and undulating against me, searching for that fulfilling touch that I withhold from her for as long as my willpower allows. “You’re so sweet.” The words escape through my teeth that are lightly clenched around her erect nipple.
“Mark, please.”
“Please what, baby.” My lips resume their attention, drawing her deep into my mouth. I suckle at her, forcefully, pressing the taut little bud. Biting down slightly on her elicits the reaction I hope for. Her legs slink involuntarily over my hips, opening her wet sex to me. I reach beneath her and pull her up with me, her arms wrapped around my neck.
I twist and turn, to prop against the back of the sofa, and she situates in my lap. “I like you above me.” My lips seek out her soft mouth, my hands slide up her sides cupping her breasts. “I get to do this.” Pinching her left nipple between my thumb and finger, my tongue flicks over the bud, soothing the rough attention. Erica’s hands cup my head, drawing me close against her, presenting herself more for me.
“Mark…” The declaration escapes her throat in a breathy whisper. I reach around her hip to retrieve another berry and again bit the tip, revealing the succulent flesh. Reaching between us I run the moist fruit up her slit, lingering on her clit, rubbing the hard nub gently. Her head lies back on her neck, her slender hands gripping my shoulders as she strives to restrain the movement of her hips.
My eyes focus on her breasts and erect nipples, thrust out for me alone. I lift the fruit. “Erica.” Her eyes flutter open and I see the irises darken, her pupils dilate as I reach my tongue out to lick the fruit that so intimately caressed her, only moments before. My teeth sink into the sweet flesh. Swallowing, I toss the remaining fruit aside, back onto the tray. “You know you taste amazing, don’t you?” My hands move to her hips, pulling her closer to me. “You feel, you taste, you are amazing.”
“Mark.” She bites her lower lip, those blue eyes deepening as I hold her gaze.
“It’s okay.” I slip a hand between us, my fingers sliding over the wetness I can call forth. I dream of that juncture between her thighs, of fingering her and watching those hips roll against me in a majestic fashion.
She’s wet enough, but I can’t resist. I lift my hand to my mouth. “Erica.” She watches me draw the tips of my fingers down my wet tongue before I run those same fingers over her slit. Then, with one fluid movement she accepts me. Rising on her thighs, she moves above me. My hands resting on her hips, her tongue in my mouth. Every time she surrounds me, it feels like that exquisite first time with her.
My words breath into her open mouth as she gasps. “Is that good? Tell me…Erica tell me.”
“Right there…Oh.” She rises and falls against me. Her hips pump a staccato rhythm against me and I can see the perspiration on her brow. My hands grip tighter to her hips. “Slow down.” She’s building towards that arch that will give her the mild push that she needs. But, I need more than that for her. I need her to quiver, and shudder, and feel the earth tremble beneath us.
I move my thumb to her clit, softly stroking the sensitive nub. “I’ll get you there.” She moans loudly and her head falls to my shoulder. “A juicy rip fruit…That’s what you are, aren’t you?” She continues to rise and fall on me, a slower pace, dictated by my hand. “Tart and fresh. Aren’t you? Your succulent little pussy.”
“Mark, hurry…” The plea is breathy and frenzied as she resumes the rapid pump of her hips.
“Slow down. Let me enjoy your fruit.”
She groans loudly and falls against my chest, her hard nipples branding my skin. I slide a finger against her sensitive opening, as she continues to pump up and down on me. She strokes me, her hips thrusting, drawing herself hard against my fingers.
“Mark, please…” It’s a plea, a ragged cry from her throat, a submission to the moment. I never could deny her anything. My free hand wraps around her waist, pulling her closer against me. “Come on baby, here we go.”
Her hands grip my upper arms; she braces herself as she rises and falls, my thumb urging her to a higher plane. Her lips crash into my own, tugging my lower lip between her teeth.
A roll of her rapid hips, a press against her clit, and her teeth sink into the soft flesh of my lip, spilling a faint taste of copper across both our tongues. She arches against me, slamming her hips hard onto me; her clenching, pulsing sex pulls me over with her. I will wait for her every time; I push that moment of sheer agony in order to bring her pure pleasure first. Shuddering in my arms, I wrap her tighter and still my hand, pressing against her clit until the end.
Sitting above me, she looks aside, rubbing the back of her hand over her damp brow. Her skin is flushed, her breasts heaving with deep breaths. I pull her hips down against me, feeling the rise to another challenge.
She’s so gorgeous it takes my breath, my will, my resistance; everything simply handed over to her, whether she knows it or not. “So, strawberries? Pretty tasty.” She chuckles and relaxes, to bury her face in my neck. Ah…the fruits of my labor.
This entry was originally posted at http://h4hahn.dreamwidth.org/24329.html
“Sloan, what is this?”
I close the door, watching as she throws her purse into the chair and slides her coat down her arms. I don’t know how she does it, but even after spending the day chasing behind one trauma after the other, she still can emerge from the hospital smelling clean, and fresh, and divine, as she breezes past me into the apartment. Stepping up behind her, I circle my arms around her waist, my hands flat on her stomach, my chin resting on her shoulder.
I look down at the spread on the floor, where her eyes have fallen, and smirk. Turning my head, I kiss her neck, my lips lightly nipping at the soft skin. My voice is low, below her ear, “It’s our version of a picnic. Because you will hardly allow me to be seen with you in public.”
She takes a deep breath and extends her neck slightly, for me. For the first time she doesn’t have anything to say. No quips about how I rarely deserve to be seen in public by myself. No biting remarks about how I’m lucky to see her at all. Nothing. Score one for Sloan. I admit it; I can’t help but hope I’ve gotten under her skin, just the slightest bit.
“Mark -“ Did I speak too soon? “You know I don’t have time for silly picnics, and walks in the park, and cuddling after a movie. I thought that you, of all people, would know we don’t have that luxury.”
I move my lips up, kissing the hollow beneath her ear and jaw line. My lips and tongue move over that soft, fluttering flesh, causing her eyes to close and her head to fall back. “Erica it doesn’t have to be all work and no play, you know.”
Slowly, over the months, she’s allowed me to show her that sex doesn’t have to be as determined and detached as surgery. We can have fun and actually enjoy ourselves. She’s always hesitant, but with only the slightest coaxing on my part, the vixen will emerge, pushing Dr. Hahn to the side. I get to see a side of her that no one ever knows exists. And it’s become my own mission to reveal more and more of that beautiful, but still strong, woman underneath.
Sliding my hands back to her hips I lift my head and urge her to step towards the red checked tablecloth, draped across my living room floor. “Let’s eat.”
***
The restaurant did an amazing job of preparing the cold tapas I requested. Lots of sensual small bites, flavors to be savored, and light sauces and soft cheeses to be sucked from fingertips. I reach across the divide between us, running my thumb across her lower lip and lift the pad to my mouth, swiping my tongue out to lick up the taste of the Baba Ghanoush, mixed with her beautiful essence. Her soft pink tongue slides out to gather the remnants, to trace the path of my thumb.
I raise my eyebrows at her, “Private picnicking does have its advantages.”
Erica’s eyes sweep over the contents of the tablecloth, as she leans back onto one of the pillows I’ve scattered on the floor for us. “When did you have time to do this today? Every time I looked at the board you had surgeries stacked back to back.”
“Erica, I didn’t plan this today.” Her blue eyes narrow slightly. I know she gets the insinuation, but I don’t know if she doesn’t want to accept it. If she doesn’t want to face it “Today was the day I planned this for.”
Again she doesn’t have a response. Hiding the smirk, I twist and reach into the insulated picnic basket. “I would say it’s time for some dessert.”
***
I hold the glass high above her, titling it and drizzling the dessert wine into her navel. It creates a cold splash across her stomach, a line of sweet liquid rolling down over her hip.
She squirms beneath me, as I sit up and set the glass to the side. Moving down her legs, my mouth lowers to her stomach sucking up the sugary nectar and licking the salt of her skin. My tongue moves over her stomach, seeking out every drop, my lips following the sweet trail along her hip. Her hips rise up, striving against me, but I grip her waist, holding her steady as I nip and lick at the curve of her hip. I can feel the heat radiating off her, the brush of her curls against my chest as she subconsciously tries to seek out any stimulation she can find.
My tongue trails up her side, mapping the contours of her body. I reach that juncture of her arm, breathing in the soft, delicate fragrance that is pure Erica. Her aroma, her desire, her essence. Moving over the rise of a breast, I kiss lightly up the soft flesh, circling kisses around her areola. She moans quietly and rolls her body slightly to the side that my touch is favoring.
I lean up, smiling down at her, as her eyes flutter open at the loss of contact and sensation. Reaching behind me I lift a large, ripe strawberry from the tray, bringing it to my mouth to bite off the tip. I lower the fruit to her skin, rubbing the flesh around her breast, leaving a trail of natural sweetness glistening on her skin. Tossing the spent fruit back on to the tray, I lift a second berry and slide it along the line of her lips. The pink flesh parts and a velvet muscle sneaks out to draw it onto her tongue. I let her get a juicy bite and lean down, drawing my hands away from her mouth. My tongue traces the path of the fruit before dipping into her mouth and sharing the sweetness.
Erica groans against me and her hands slide around to clutch at my back. The fruit forgotten, she engages the kiss, letting me lose myself in the feel of her sensual lips, the swipe of her arousing tongue as we share the natural sweet. I suck at her mouth, drinking her, the berry, everything into me. There’s no part of her I won’t devour; won’t taste at a moment’s invitation, won’t worship at the drop of a hat. And right now her sticky breast requires my obvious attention.
Swirling my tongue in figure eights around and over her sensitive nipple, I revel in the arch of her back, her need to have more of me on her, over her, in her. But, I tease her. It’s perhaps my favorite thing. To feel her wanton and undulating against me, searching for that fulfilling touch that I withhold from her for as long as my willpower allows. “You’re so sweet.” The words escape through my teeth that are lightly clenched around her erect nipple.
“Mark, please.”
“Please what, baby.” My lips resume their attention, drawing her deep into my mouth. I suckle at her, forcefully, pressing the taut little bud. Biting down slightly on her elicits the reaction I hope for. Her legs slink involuntarily over my hips, opening her wet sex to me. I reach beneath her and pull her up with me, her arms wrapped around my neck.
I twist and turn, to prop against the back of the sofa, and she situates in my lap. “I like you above me.” My lips seek out her soft mouth, my hands slide up her sides cupping her breasts. “I get to do this.” Pinching her left nipple between my thumb and finger, my tongue flicks over the bud, soothing the rough attention. Erica’s hands cup my head, drawing me close against her, presenting herself more for me.
“Mark…” The declaration escapes her throat in a breathy whisper. I reach around her hip to retrieve another berry and again bit the tip, revealing the succulent flesh. Reaching between us I run the moist fruit up her slit, lingering on her clit, rubbing the hard nub gently. Her head lies back on her neck, her slender hands gripping my shoulders as she strives to restrain the movement of her hips.
My eyes focus on her breasts and erect nipples, thrust out for me alone. I lift the fruit. “Erica.” Her eyes flutter open and I see the irises darken, her pupils dilate as I reach my tongue out to lick the fruit that so intimately caressed her, only moments before. My teeth sink into the sweet flesh. Swallowing, I toss the remaining fruit aside, back onto the tray. “You know you taste amazing, don’t you?” My hands move to her hips, pulling her closer to me. “You feel, you taste, you are amazing.”
“Mark.” She bites her lower lip, those blue eyes deepening as I hold her gaze.
“It’s okay.” I slip a hand between us, my fingers sliding over the wetness I can call forth. I dream of that juncture between her thighs, of fingering her and watching those hips roll against me in a majestic fashion.
She’s wet enough, but I can’t resist. I lift my hand to my mouth. “Erica.” She watches me draw the tips of my fingers down my wet tongue before I run those same fingers over her slit. Then, with one fluid movement she accepts me. Rising on her thighs, she moves above me. My hands resting on her hips, her tongue in my mouth. Every time she surrounds me, it feels like that exquisite first time with her.
My words breath into her open mouth as she gasps. “Is that good? Tell me…Erica tell me.”
“Right there…Oh.” She rises and falls against me. Her hips pump a staccato rhythm against me and I can see the perspiration on her brow. My hands grip tighter to her hips. “Slow down.” She’s building towards that arch that will give her the mild push that she needs. But, I need more than that for her. I need her to quiver, and shudder, and feel the earth tremble beneath us.
I move my thumb to her clit, softly stroking the sensitive nub. “I’ll get you there.” She moans loudly and her head falls to my shoulder. “A juicy rip fruit…That’s what you are, aren’t you?” She continues to rise and fall on me, a slower pace, dictated by my hand. “Tart and fresh. Aren’t you? Your succulent little pussy.”
“Mark, hurry…” The plea is breathy and frenzied as she resumes the rapid pump of her hips.
“Slow down. Let me enjoy your fruit.”
She groans loudly and falls against my chest, her hard nipples branding my skin. I slide a finger against her sensitive opening, as she continues to pump up and down on me. She strokes me, her hips thrusting, drawing herself hard against my fingers.
“Mark, please…” It’s a plea, a ragged cry from her throat, a submission to the moment. I never could deny her anything. My free hand wraps around her waist, pulling her closer against me. “Come on baby, here we go.”
Her hands grip my upper arms; she braces herself as she rises and falls, my thumb urging her to a higher plane. Her lips crash into my own, tugging my lower lip between her teeth.
A roll of her rapid hips, a press against her clit, and her teeth sink into the soft flesh of my lip, spilling a faint taste of copper across both our tongues. She arches against me, slamming her hips hard onto me; her clenching, pulsing sex pulls me over with her. I will wait for her every time; I push that moment of sheer agony in order to bring her pure pleasure first. Shuddering in my arms, I wrap her tighter and still my hand, pressing against her clit until the end.
Sitting above me, she looks aside, rubbing the back of her hand over her damp brow. Her skin is flushed, her breasts heaving with deep breaths. I pull her hips down against me, feeling the rise to another challenge.
She’s so gorgeous it takes my breath, my will, my resistance; everything simply handed over to her, whether she knows it or not. “So, strawberries? Pretty tasty.” She chuckles and relaxes, to bury her face in my neck. Ah…the fruits of my labor.
This entry was originally posted at http://h4hahn.dreamwidth.org/24329.html