Big Girls on Top (5 page)

*****

I hadn’t made my bed…

I stood there for a moment and mentally berated myself for not having made my bed.  I know I’d been depressed and hung
over, but really…

And now Quinn got to see an eyeful of my sloth.

But he must not have minded because he came up behind me and pressed his hard, very ready for more body against my backside, wrapping his strong, muscular arms around
me
to fondle my front.
  Oh god, I was tingly all over.  And every stroke of his body against mine, of his hands touching and squeezing another part of me, made the tingling get worse.  Things down
low
inside me tightened, warming until I had a well of burning hot need boiling in my belly, making my sex pulsate, and I felt myself getting wet.

Quinn’s hands found their way up inside my t-shirt, and he had my bra clad boobs in his hands, crushing them in his palms.  My back arched, and my ass pushed back against him, feeling the thick hardness of his erection.  His hands moved to unclasp my bra—another front loader.  Truth be told, I didn’t own any other kind.  I was a simple girl.

“
Whoa, buddy!
”
  I shrank away from him and out of his grasp.  I stepped over to the bedside table and turned on the lamp, even though it was daylight outside, my bedroom was always shady until
late afternoon
—western exposure
s are great for sleeping in.

I turned and leaned against the cool plaster of my bedroom wall.  Quinn had a querying expression on his handsome mug, and he crossed his arms over his chest, one eye brow raised, waiting.

I had to start practicing that eye brow thing in the mirror.  It was such a great effect.

We stood there for nearly a minute.  He was waiting me out.  I wasn’t about to talk first.  Very mature on both our parts…but I didn’t feel mature, not a bit.

“Well shit,” Quinn spat, finally giving in.  “What?”

I grinned.  “I want you to take your clothes off…so I can get a real good look at you.”  There was so much of him I hadn’t seen.  So many places he could have gotten inked.  And truth be told, he was just so dreamy gorgeous, I wanted to see him completely naked.  Bare assed, birthday suit,
all natural
naked!

He smiled.  “Is that all?”  He pulled off his leather jacket and tossed it in a wicker chair I had in the corner.  He reached up and I could tell he was just about to pull the shirt off over his head—it would be the quickest way…but I didn’t want quick.

“Slowly,” I drawled.

His eyes narrowed, but his smile widened.  “So you want a little strip show, huh?”

My head jerked back at the thought.  That’s what
I
wanted.  I wanted him to strip for me.  “Yeah, sure…just don’t try and dance.”

He grinned wolfishly as he pulled the first button of his silk shirt open.  “You’d love my sexy dance.”

I gulped but waved the comment away.  “Just do it nice and slow
…
and I’ll give you a generous tip.”  Okay…where had that come from?

“Tip?” he said as
he
pulled another button open, exposing a little more of his lovely flesh to me.

“You’ll like it…I promise.”  I searched the insides of my skull for what the hell I was going to “tip” him with.  Maybe he’d like one of my signed Anne Rice first editions?  Nope, I wasn’t going to give any of those up, even if she had gone around the bend.  They were still damn good books, and I’d waited in line
for three hours,
all the way up in New York City
just to get her to sign them.  My back was never the same after lugging twenty hardback novels around the city.

And then it hit me.  One thing all men loved, and the one thing we hadn’t done on Teddy’s desk—groan—that I was more than willing to do.  Actually, I think I’d enjoy it as much as he was going to.

Quinn slowly shrugged his silk dress shirt off over his brawny shoulders.  My god the man must work out every day, or just have one of those rare, naturally fit bodies.  I had my money on a gym membership.

Then I realized what my eyes weren’t seeing.  He didn’t have any tattoos on his arms or shoulders.  “Turn around please,” I said in a whisper.

He obliged.  Part of me was drooling over his broad, V shaped back, and the beautiful curve of his spine leading down to his tight, tight buns.  But the other part of me was just
at
a loss for words.  Not a blemish, not a scar, and no tattoos anywhere.

Just the slowly fading red welt
on his chest
from where I’d shot him with ten thousand volts of electricity.

A bad boy without any ink?
  It just didn’t seem right.

But there were the pants to go still.

“Okay, now lose the jeans.”

He stayed turned around as he kicked off his boots—black leather with some scuffing—pulled his fly open and then pushed his jeans down around his ankles. 

He’d gone commando.  Oh my…

I gasped at the wondrous sight.  Never had I seen a better ass.  It was tight and firm, but jiggled as he pulled his jeans off over his feet.  He had the most delicious looking tan lines, and there were dimples not only on the orbs of his bottom, but up above them, where his lower back connected with his ass.

God almighty, he was stunning.

And he didn’t have any tattoos down there either…

I just couldn’t get it to add up in my head.  I don’t think I’
d
ever slept with a guy that
who
didn’t have a tattoo.
  I hadn’t really though that I had a type, but I guess tattoos were my thing.

I was about to suggest he pull his clothes back on and get out when he turned and I got another eyeful of his mammoth
endowment.  It was long and hard, and thick, and so muscular looking it matched his other delightful appendages. 

It jerked and actually lengthened as my eyes caressed it.

I was just suddenly standing before him, and he hissed and gasped, his head rolling back in pleasure as I took him in my hands.  I squeezed the long length of him, and he pulsed in my hands.  Then I stroked him and his eyes rolled back in his head.

He had the dreamiest look on his face—like he was listening to the most beautiful music in the world.

I fell to my knees—
not
the easiest thing for a girl with curves like mine to do—and took him into my mouth.  It had been a while, and I had to fight my gag reflex, but I got most of him past my lips in one gulp.

Quinn’s hips bucked forward, helping to shove his girth down the back of my throat, and
he whimpered…
actually whimpered
like a puppy dog.

He tasted so damn good.  I know a lot of women don’t really enjoy sucking cock, but I’m not one of them.  I’m a very oral girl, and love eating many different things
—e
specially the long, hard erection of a really hot fella.  I even start getting sexually revved up as I suck, as if the cock in my mouth is actually filling up my lower regions instead.

I pulled back, took in some air through my nose
,
since his manhood had blocked off my airway—and that’s when the scent of him just about pushed me over the edge.  It was that bitter sweet under current that I’d detected under the leather and silk.  It was his own, personal, very masculine aroma…and good god it was better than any aphrodisiac.

I fell forward, stuffing even more of the man’s cock down my throat, and didn’t stop until I had my nose buried in the coarse black pubes that framed his
it
.

Q
uinn’s hands bunched in my hair and he bent over me, moaning and gasping as I deep-throated him, my hands grasping his amazingly tight ass for support.

I sucked and licked, and even ran my teeth lightly over the flesh in my mouth, pulling back and pushing forward, stroking his length with my entire throat as much as with my lips and tongue.

I tasted some pre-cum on my tongue a second before Quinn pulled his hips back, dislodging his manhood from my unhappy lips.
  But before I could protest he had his hands under my arm
s
and had me pulled to my feet.  I felt a little dizzy at how fast I’d ascended, and I fell forward into his strong upper body, my face slapping happily into his smooth, hard chest.  I licked the bare flesh, and even took a nibble at
one of
his small brown nipple
s
.

He groaned and chuckled lustily at the same time, a sound I very much liked, and then pushed me toward the bed.  He had my t-shirt up over my head, and my bra unclasped before the backs of my knees met up with my mattress. 
His lips crushed to mine in a long deep kiss as his hands worked and pulled at the buckle of my jeans.  As he pushed me down onto the mattress, I felt the cool air of my bedroom as he pushed down my jeans, and my panties, with one polished movement.

He ripped them off over my bare feet without our lips parting, and before I knew it he was on top of me, his smooth, soft flesh and hard bulging muscles caressing my bare flesh with every movement he made.

This was heaven…

And the man had to be the best kisser I’d ever known.  Each kiss different in intensity, in deepness, and gentleness.  It was enough to make a girl melt into a puddle on the duvet we were writhing on.

I felt his splendidly hard cock rub up the inside of my thigh…

Condom…

“Er—did you…” I gasped as his tongue slid up the curve of my neck, and then he took my earlobe in his hot mouth.  “Ah…did you happen to…oh god!”  He had his manhood pressed up against the quivering, pulsing opening of my sex.  My pussy shuddered in anticipation.

“Condom…” I called out hoarsely as his bare chest pressed against my own.

He leaned up and our kiss ended.  He held up a hand, a feral gleam in his eyes, and a foil wrapped condom between his fingers.  I hadn’t seen him palm it.  Obviously Quinn had many talents.
 
 

I was about to say
Smart ass
…but what I did say was, “Hurry!”
 

He raised the condom to his mouth, and baring his teeth like a jungle cat
,
he ripped the foil packet open.  A shifting of his weight, and he rolled the latex sheath over himself, looking distracted—I guess if your sexual organ is huge and stationed to flop around all the time, rolling a rubber stocking over it can be distracting.

Another shift of weight, and he lined himself up with my pussy’s hungry opening and pushed in until the head of his cock penetrated me.  I groaned and wriggled a little.  I was still sore
from
the night before, but I didn’t care.  I had to have the man inside me again…even if this would be the last time. 

He let go of himself and used both arms to support himself as he pushed into me, slow and sure, making my vaginal wal
l
s stretch to accommodate his
girth
.

Oh yeah…

I wrapped my arms and legs around his body, and I felt him shaking as his body lowered until our skins connected, and then he let his weight rest atop me as he pulled his cock out a good ways, and then crammed it back into me.

Lord…thank you lord for this day…
this smoking hot man…and for giving him such a thick, hard cock…

As prayers of thank went, it was a little blasphemous…but I meant every single word.

He kissed me, his thick lips so soft and delicious, his tongue demanding, probing into me slowly as his hips sped
,
up until his groans were overpowered by the
thwack
,
thwack
,
thwack
sound of his hips and balls slapping against the flesh of my crotch and ass.

“Oh god…I’m gonna cum soon!”
he nearly holed.

Oh, no you don’t!

Now, the information I give you
here
is powerful, very valuable advice.  Share it with only your best friends, but do tell them that they should only use it when they have the time
and energy
to spend enjoying the results.

If your man is about ready to shoot his load and you’re still not even close to shaking hands with your Big O, here’s something you can do: ask him a question.

I know, it sounds silly, but if it’s the right question, as in something he actually has to think about, then it does two things simultaneously.
One: i
t interrupts the
rhyme his body has fallen into to push him to his orgasm.  And two: by making his mind s
h
ift
out of
Oh god I’m gonna come!
gear, a
nd
thus resets his brain to square one.

But there are some subjects off limits.  No sex questions,
don’t ask him if he loves you—never ask that during sex if you want an honest answer—a
nd absolutely no questions about his mother or sister.  You want to reset his orgasm
o
-meter, not cause spontaneous erection deflation.