If you are uncomfortable reading erotic scenes, know that they can be skipped. They are marked with a bolded heart where the scenes begin and end.

Her lips perk against mine. It's a soft feathery kiss, sweet and gentle, similar to the one she gave me when Mr Ritchie came to visit.

I slowly put my hands on the small of her back, hugging her around her hips. I pull her closer to me and before her body leans against mine, she puts both of her hands on my chest.

They're still at first and she keeps them in one place, but soon she stretches her fingers to cover the wider surface of my chest. Her fingertips dig into my shirt and the skin underneath, but her touch is as light as her kiss is.

I tighten our embrace and pull her even closer. I want all of her body pressed against mine, and as I do exactly that, I feel her elbows and the entire length of her forearms against the sides of my abdomen. I pull her in such a deep embrace my hands intertwine around her body.

She's not really skinny, but just fit. She's soft and welcoming to the touch, something I appreciate much more than a flat stomach or the feel of woman's ribs against my own.

A sequence of soft kisses, as enjoyable as they are, are driving me crazy. I want to deepen it, to feel the soft and hot embrace of her lips. Slowly and softly I deepen it. There is no need to rush, it would just ruin everything we've built up until now.

Deepening is an action deeply appreciated by Annabelle. The moment she feels my tongue slowly invade, she splits her lips in haste as if she's waited for me to do that for way too long.

Her hands that were just a moment ago too busy with my chest, stretch over and reach around my neck. By doing so, she squeezes our bodies together, tilts her head more to the side and gives our kiss the chance to spring to life with passion.

If I kept my eyes open, I'd automatically roll them back in pleasure and the intoxicating feeling I get whenever Annabelle and I kiss.

Lightly I brush my hands up and down her hips, reach over the small of her back, then travel up and down her spine.

Half a minute later, Annabelle's kiss becomes distant and both her tongue and lips are retreating back, which I'm not happy about at all.

I refuse to let go of her and keep the kiss sealed. I don't want her to tear away from me, so I follow her. When she takes one step, I do too. But soon enough, my cogs turn in the right direction and I realise she's not escaping me, but getting me to the bedroom.

I'm not a particularly obedient man, never was, but when Annabelle implies the direction with her kisses, I follow her as if that's what I've always done - obeyed orders.

I stay close to her, never letting go of her waist, waiting for the opportunity to give her a sudden wave of passion. Right before we enter the bedroom, when we're caught between the doorframes, I grab her with more strength than before and press her against the doorframe as my lips hungrily seek for hers.

She moans into the kiss in surprise, but judging by her grateful acceptance, she's not mad at all. Annabelle, with her hands still around my neck, uses this opportunity to go through my hair and hold me closer to her. In no way could our kiss get any deeper, but any attempt at it makes it all that more pleasing, like we can't get enough of each other, that despite the collision of our bodies it is still not close enough.

When she places her hands back on my chest, I know she is very much up to something, but I know that something will be good, more than good. She pushes me back, firmly but still gently, so it's my back against the doorframe this time, and when my body leans back against it, her body follows, as if parting with it could be an experience resulting in death.

I melt right under her touch. Wherever her fingers go, my skin probably turns red underneath the clothes. We've been kissing for quite a while and we haven't even removed socks which is a novelty for me especially because I don't feel the need to rip everything right off of her. I want to uncover her piece by piece and I want her to do the same thing to me.

She takes the lead in undressing and makes the first move by slowly and steadily unbuttoning my shirt. Her fingers seem to be in haste, but according to my arousal, she couldn't have been slower at it. It probably takes a minute or even less, but to me it feels like hours pass or that I've aged for another decade.

My shirt eventually falls apart and a mixture of senses arouses me to the point of driving me insane. The AC in her bedroom is cooling me down, sending a wave of goosebumps over my body, but when Annabelle's warm hands travel up my abdomen, heating up the cooled skin, I get a whole other type of goosebumps.

For the first time this night, our kiss is broken. Annabelle is the one to move away, but thankfully so, because we both inhale as if we were kept under water for ten minutes and somehow managed to survive and stay conscious. We breathe, pant, like crazy.

Annabelle distances herself from me and reaches with her hand away from me and implies she will free her hair from the braid to which I respond by pulling her back to me. My lungs are aching due to the lack of air, but I pull her in a deep kiss anyway.

When she is completely fazed by it and her hand drops down to rest on my shoulder, I break the kiss for a split second, just enough so I can whisper breathlessly against her lips, "Leave the braid."

Her face twitches into a smile, which would probably stay on a while, but it doesn't because she has far more greater things to worry about. But she does whisper back, "If you leave on the shirt."

No need to tell me twice.

I smile as well, but it is succumbed in yet another kiss. While busy smooching her back, I find the straps of her dress on her shoulders. With a swift move, those straps are pushed to the edge where they can no longer hang for their dear life and keep the dress on which piles around Annabelle's feet.

Just knowing she is right there before me in all her bare glory, my breath hitches and every muscle in my body stiffens.

Annabelle looks at me, her eyes half-closed, seductive and daring. I can hear her eyes calling me closer, urging me to touch her without anh kind of fabric between us. There are no obstacles, nothing to hold us back.

❤

My fingers graze her skin, going up her hips until they cup her breasts. Her lips twitch into a small smile once again, but then her eyes close, and she steps on her toes to kiss me. I meet her halfway down, just as hungry for more of her lips.

Going left and right, then up and down, I feel her breasts, caressing them. I feel them harden underneath my palms and I can imagine how they would feel if I kissed them or kept them between my teeth and lips.

I start pushing off the wall and against her. I want to get to her bed where so many new possibilities open for our foreplay. So many new moves in kissing and touching for both of us.

Annabelle understands what I'm craving for and I think the feeling is mutual. At first it's a bit awkward, because we're in a haste to get there and we also get a little bit competitive who will lead who, but when the bed lightly rattles when we hit it, we are more than content with our accomplishment.

Voluntarily, Annabelle sinks back to bed and I'm right there following her, bending over her and climbing the bed until we're both at a position that fits us the best.

She parts her legs just enough for me to slide between, but we're far away from the real action as far as I'm concerned. She slouches her back and our chests touch, skin to skin, and it feels like a sort of electricity runs through us.

I let go of her lips and let Annabelle breathe while I'm busy elsewhere. I leave a trace of kisses along her jaw and neck, then pay some special attention to her chest area.

She keeps her hands busy by keeping them in my hair, lightly tugging on it whenever my lips or my breath brushes her nipples. I kiss her beneath them, above them, on the left and on the right side of them. The way she is a bit jiggly is making me dizzy for whenever I give her a little nudge with either my nose or my tongue. Though, it doesn't make sense, I swear I can taste something sweet whenever I kiss her around her breasts, and it's like that moment when you smell tasty and something familiar for one split second. No matter how much you want to recreate it and relive the moment, you can't, and all there's left is painful yearning that can drive you completely mad.

I move down to her stomach after I've figured my yearning could make her skin sore. That's the last thing I want to give her with my kisses and nurturing.

She shivers every now and then when my lips make contact with her skin and there's a good amount of goosebumps following for both her and me.

But then she slightly sits up, completely shameless of her nudity, and pulls me back to her, so we can kiss again. She keeps her hands busy with my belt and my trousers, but this time she's faster. Obviously, she's had her practice one time before, she has things at least a bit figured out.

I find it amusing how she doesn't even make an attempt to rub me and get me into the mood - she knows damn well I've been ready before we even got to the doorframe. Annabelle pulls her legs completely to her, leaving me all alone, with nothing else to do, but to nibble on her neck. In that time, she takes off her panties, slides them down her legs too slowly in my opinion.

The same moment her underwear joins mine on the floor, I pull her into the embrace from behind, and all there can be heard is her partly voiced inhale, as she falls back against me.

I kiss her forearm, her shoulder, then she exposes her neck to me, trying to prolong the journey I'm taking with my mouth. Happy to oblige it, I prolong it by going back and forth, the movements all barely differentiating for an inch. As much as she likes it when I kiss her, I like it when I do it.

Annabelle, lying on her left hip, lifts her right leg in the air and puts it over my legs, spreading her thighs just enough.

I kiss her underneath her ear and whisper, "Do you have any-?"

"No," she breathes back and that's the time when I realise how turned on she actually is. Someone should put out this fire properly tonight. "Just pull out."

"As you wish," I say and gently bite her earlobe, to which she responds by pressing her lower abdomen closer to mine.

She is right there, urging me to get to the real deal, but in my eyes she's not offering herself to me like most of the women with whom I've had one-night-stands.

Kissing and touching, despite very sensual and excellent to build the tension, can still be done during another activity. Enough of foreplay, enough of fooling around, it's time for a grown-up talk.

Gently, I slide in. Literally, I slide in, she's made sure that that would happen. Annabelle breathlessly exhales and I can't say that I don't do the same. It feels pretty good to be like this with her again. It's different with her.

I retract back, slowly sliding out. I steady myself on one arm and leave the other one on the side of her hip where I can caress and hold her whenever the mood.

Annabelle leans her head back to me, turning to the side lightly and with just a bit of stretch we can kiss again. It's not exactly the most comfortable position in the world, but when you're kissing a woman like her that really hardly matters.

Steadily, I go back in and back out again, until both of us develop a sort of rhythm. Annabelle doesn't just lie there, holding her leg up and waiting for me to finish the job, she is working with me, giving me directions and instructions what she likes, how she likes it and where she likes it.

The rhythm we develop completely on our own, with the movement of her hips and thighs and the movement of my lower abdomen, is slower than what I'm used to. Then again Annabelle is not just another young girl from a disco, and the moment with her deserves to be savoured before it's gone.

When we get on pretty steady, I kiss her neck very meticulously. One spot here, another one there, under a hairline on the back of her neck.

Annabelle pants lightly, her intakes of air usually louder when she feels me deeper inside.

I, on the other hand, can't even breathe normally. I've been keeping the air in my lungs for such a long time, it's probably not healthy anymore. But however I move, she moves with me. When I hear her moan lightly, it's like a siren's call in my ears. My body is melting against hers like metal thrown in a pit of lava.

With her back pressed against my abdomen I feel her shape, her feminine figure that must've driven thousands of men and women crazy, the same way it's happening to me. While never stopping the rhythm, I trace her figure with my free hand. I go by the side and into the valley of her waist, then down and over her stomach, which seemed relaxed to me, but is in fact tense.

Do I have something to do with that?

I smile to myself at that one and bend to kiss her neck again, her neck that is now so nicely exposed due to her braid.

Annabelle covers my hand with hers and guides it across her body. First, she shows me a way across her slightly sweaty abdomen right to her left breast that is leaning down to the mattress. I cup it, mend it in my palm gently, making sure her nipple is always between my fingers so I can make Annabelle squirm a little.

Whenever I do squeeze my fingers together, it's like she gets spasms all over her, which make her meet me harder for that one thrust. In addition she leans and tilts her head back to me, our lips still not exactly close enough, but I can feel the breeze of her heavy breathing on my left cheek. Arousing enough for me.

Her hand then moves mine to her other breast where I do the same thing, and despite her reaction being the same, meeting my blows with power, she moans silently to each one of them.

But she doesn't let me spend the same amount of time on her right breast as I have on her left, so I whisper to her, "You sure it won't get jealous?"

She chuckles breathlessly, "There are other parts far more jealous."

"I don't discriminate," I smile and my hand takes the lead over hers.

That doesn't last long for apparently she has different appetites. Again, she takes the lead, and stops when my palm is covering her buttcheek. With her implying what to do, I feel the soft skin of her buttocks, eventually squeezing it, touching it around, trying to fathom how jiggly and firm is at the same time. What is even harder to contemplate, is that I am here, right behind her, thrusting in and touching her around.

"Uhnm..." Her moans can barely be heard, but when you're as close to her as I am, the volume is right about perfect. It's enough to get the blood flowing through my veins and to give me even more motivation to bring her to her climax.

My hand automatically slides down her body, to her thighs and between them, to that area I adore on every woman. The area where the skin is so gentle and sensitive, a kiss can leave a pink mark. I feel her thighs from inside and out, wishing I could stop thrusting and go to kiss her there this very moment. I want to rub my cheek against her inner thigh and feel the smooth and loving texture.

She lets me touch her there for a while, at which she scoffs desirably or slowly exhales long and packed breaths. During that time, her intimate parts start to grip on mine more demandingly, which makes thrusting all that more gratifying.

When Annabelle starts to shift her legs a bit more, spreading them and closing them again, as if looking for the perfect pose that could bring her to the ending point, I know her pleasure is not just a part of my imagination. She confirms that, when she reaches for my hand again, demands from me to grab her skin more roughly than before, to squeeze it tighter with less regard for any kind of pain, until she brings my hand to the very front, right between her legs.

I know exactly what she wants me to do, but I want her to show me exactly how she wants it done. She wants me to enhance her pleasure, stimulate her senses a bit more. With this pose, I'm not surprised she's asking for it. I'd rather have her shiver explosively with the help of a hand, than to experience something as weak as a wave of heat.

Once my fingers make contact with her sweet spot, Annabelle takes a noticeable breath of in and her shoulders tense against my chest. For a while, her hand stays there with mine, but only while all of this is a slow build-up to bigger arousal.

I doubt woman's reaction to a special touch there will ever cease to amaze me. Just when I believe Annabelle is as ready as she needs to be to have a pleasuring intercourse, there she is, freaking leaking whenever I press her button in this or that a way.

Her breath hitches and leaves my hand alone, seeing that I'm perfectly capable of continuing this completely on my own. And continue, I shall, in the best way that I can manage.

While she speeds up the pace, completely an idea of her own, I give her a suspenseful feeling of never knowing which direction will my hand take. There's one time that I just rub her up and down, but carefully for she is definitely aroused like hell and sensitive to the most gentle of a breeze. But the next time I go from left to right and back to left then again back to right. I hit a total jackpot when I give her a circular movement.

Annabelle slouches her back. If we were like one before, we're definitely not anymore. Despite her back being so far away from my chest, from the way we've been before, she refuses to have her neck splitting ways from me just as well.

She twists in a strange, but sexy way, so I still have more than enough access to thrust, even though that is more like splashing now, and the way she has turned, gives me enough space to kiss the corners of her lips.

I shift as well and I end up closing the distance between us without ruining the perfect opportunity to kiss her lips and cheeks. Before, that was hardly possible.

Annabelle buries her face in the pillow below her, moaning at it with eyes closed. At first, she's kept then closed because whenever something feels just about right, people like to close their eyes, have their eyesight rest for a moment and use that to better savour everything around them. But now... Now, that I've taken circular movement around her spot again, she closes her eyes shut and bites the pillow with her side teeth.

I gulp when I see that with the corner of my eye. I feel a tingling in my stomach, the kind that tells you you're reaching for that feeling, for the climax, but you also know you'll need to work harder than that for it. Well, if that will result in Annabelle reaching for it too, imploding around me, I'm more than happy to work for it as hard as possible.

"Argh-!" She cries out, taking both me and herself by surprise. She's been so quiet throughout I hardly expected her to get this loud at any point.

Listening to her moans, reading her body, I give her sweet spot some more stimulation, besides the other work I'm putting in.

Annabelle cries out like that again and grabs the sheets underneath to give them a little pull. But right there and then she lets go of them and reaches with her hand behind her, looking for me, trying to hold me.

Well, I'm all here and I show her that by leaning to her, planting wet kisses on her neck, possibly leaving a mark, and then whispering to her, "I'm here, don't worry."

Her hand finds my hair and my cheek, and she caresses both of them as gently as a woman who just wants to get to an orgasm possibly can.

I rub her a bit more, her body flinching at every move that my hand and my length inside her make.

"N-Nathan-!" She exclaims breathlessly, and if I thought I could pull through this night with ease, like she's one of those girls with whom I can go for a quick run and then go on about my life, I was damn fucking wrong.

Her voice calling out my name is a whole other story, something that invokes... a part of me that just wants to drop down and try every single thing in Kamasutra on her, just so I could please her at least once. And that part of me is apparently twelve years old because it's freaking hard to keep it all contained. I haven't had to deal with such urges to blow in a really long time and it's something I've grown to both hate and love.

Underneath my hand that is busy with her ladies' parts, I feel her thighs shiver and I think mine shiver in response.

I'm just as close, Annabelle. Just as close.

Even more than before, she starts moving her hips, not as aggressively as she has during our second sexual encounter, but definitely more active than the first one.

Shit, this is the third time we're doing it and it still feels like the first time...

The tingling in my stomach has turned into a parade that moved down to the lowest part, where it's gathering and gathering, overpopulating, making me quite concerned just how intense that will be.

Annabelle, with her hips moving as if they have a mind of its own, with her head leaning onto my left shoulder and where I can feel her lips and her breath and every sound she utters, looks like a woman long gone, whose sanity has absented itself and the vessel doesn't really care about it.

"I'm... I'm gonna..." she breathes out, quieter than the cries she has made before, which just fuels the bubbling of the intense feeling inside of me.

I feel my eyes closing completely on its own. Not closing, shutting. Shutting on its own. I feel the muscles in my arms and shoulders tensing, as they usually do for when I do come, I want the woman as close to me as possible, and I want to be as deep as possible.

Not possible now, Nathan. She told you to pull the fuck out.

I distance myself from her as much as I can. If I stay glued to her any longer, I'll stay there and I'll come in a place that is no good, in a place that is currently like a Garden of Eden for me and I'm the one repeatedly biting on the fruit.

"N-no.." she whimpers when suddenly her back is all alone and exposed.

I silence her cries by invading more intensely than before and by touching her and circulating right there even more than before. Her cries may be silenced, but her moans are just about to enter the spotlight, filling my ears with those calls for more and more pleasure.

I could probably come just by listening to her.

"Unn... Nath-Nathan...!" She calls for me again, her hand finding me somewhere that is too far away from her and trying to pull me back to her for my waist.

She manages to succeed, as if I'm the one to resist it so badly, and our heats meet again, mixing, inviting our bodies to entwine into a mess, even though that is already exactly what we are.

When I'm pressed against her like this again, she turns back to me once again, even more so than before just so she can kiss. And boy, she hasn't kissed me like that before, at least I don't think she has.

That deep kiss mixed with curiosity, carefulness, lust, familiarity, like this is the only time I'll get to experience how it is to really be with a woman. I guess that's partly true. Guys don't just drop women of her calibre. They keep them.

Being kissed like that, kissed like that by her feels as if she's giving me oxygen to breathe and taking it away at the same time. It's not her naked body, the sensitive skin or her responsiveness that stimulates me completely, it's that damn kiss that puts every feeling I'm experiencing this very moment under a magnifying glass, all at the same time.

She moans into the kiss a bit. But then she moans again, louder this time. And the next time is a moan that just drags on. And every time she moans or groans or makes any kind of sound, the vibration released go straight down to the main occupation of mine.

"Annabelle-" I say, partly muffled by the kiss and partly because how is one supposed to speak when everything inside and outside of him is burning him and melting him with sensuality.

Breaking the kiss, she moans in a whisper, "C-close..."

Okay, give her everything.

Putting extra weight on her, so she tips to the side a little bit, not minding that at all, I get more space to give her exactly what she needs, what we both need. It will probably result in me passion out, but to see a blush of pleasure hit her cheeks all at once as her smile rose, I think that is by far worth it.

I keep my hand busy at all times. I have to, she showed she wants it there with a reason, and it will stay there until she commands me otherwise.

Annabelle starts moving her hips back and forth, a bit to the left, then back, an inch to the right, and again forth repeatedly, looking for that pose again, a pose that is like the finishing line of a marathon.

Once I lean her to the side a bit more, Annabelle rests her left cheek down on the pillow, sighing and eventually moaning into the cushions. Then she spreads her legs, changes the position of knees, looking for yet another perfect angle that could help her achieve what we've both been trying to for such a long time.

"Nngggh! Nhhhh!" She starts exclaiming, murmuring and mumbling something that is not entirely meant to be comprehensive.

Please, come soon. Please, come soon.

Oh, the tension is piling. Oh, it's there alright, growing bigger, growing stronger, and I'm wary of it. The tension is not my ally right now, it's a group of protesters who are gathering forces to take me down.

Nonetheless, I keep on going with the same pace, the same determination, the same force, until her breath and moans begin to hitch, a cue I've been waiting for. For the few final thrusts, harder and faster, for the few final touches to her spot, more of circulation, until she is squrming underneath me, not really decided whether she wants me there or not.

The way I feel her on the inside gets tight, from all the tension trying to keep me within her for as long as possible. It feels as if her body is trying to swallow me, contain me inside, so I could never escape and remain there within her forever.

She exclaims loudly, but muffles it by doing so in the pillow and its soft components.

The tightening feeling of her, keeping me there with her, wanting me to stay in, is nearly tranquillising, but thank God, I prove to be stronger than that.

❤

In that final moment, I manage to pull out. And when I say it was in a final moment, it means the last moment. A second later, and we'd both be in trouble and in a period of panic.

I don't even manage to grunt or give away any kind of sound, I just tense all over my body as I empty my load wherever. And once I'm completely empty, convinced I am totally drained of all energy and juice, my knees and my shoulders shiver until I collide down next to her, my hand still over her hips, but now just resting there. Just as it should.

A/N: What can I say except... you're welcumm 😉😘

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~Blackie