Sleeping Beauty

Chapter 2

Instead of answering her, he reached down, and, taking hold of her firm posterior, edged her forward till her dripping wet slit was positioned squarely over his face. He reached beneath the skirt of her dress, found the flimsy fabric of her thong, pushed it aside then proceeded to familiarize himself with her nether lips.

Mecca gasped.

He hooked his arms around her thighs and gave her one long, languid lick from entrance to clit, planting his lips over the tiny nubbin, gently sucking on it before releasing it with a teasing nip.

Her hands found their way to the top of his head, and she began to trace tiny designs in his scalp as he serviced her with lips, teeth and tongue. She smelled like heaven and tasted sweetly of sin. Light and heady, but still intoxicating. The scents around him mixed and mingled forming one, delightfully delicious aroma: the freshly dug earth beneath them, the female musk above him, the sweet, subtle cocoa butter scent coming from each of her thighs and the crisp, clean scent of her cotton sundress filtered into his nostrils, making his head swim and his other senses come alive.

He felt the gentle motion of her hips as his nose brushed against the well-groomed hairs of her pussy. He heard the muffled moans she made as her thighs squeezed tighter and tighter against the sides of his head. He tasted her sweet nectar as his tongue delved deeper into the undulating, aromatic canal, drinking down every drop of her liquid heat, his smooth lips carefully caressing her velvety softness.

"Daniel! Shit . . ." Her whole form went rigid above him as her fingers first clenched then relaxed in the loose curls of his hair, as she came over and over into his awaiting mouth, his talented tongue making the moment last longer than should have been humanly possible.

When he was certain she was finished, he urged her off him then sat upright.

She continued to collect herself as he undid his fly and released himself from the confines of his trousers. He then leaned over and placed an open-mouthed kiss in the crook of her neck. "I hope that more than makes up for before."

"Before?" she asked airily.

"When I pushed you down on the ground and started kissing you senseless."

"Yeah," she nodded. "That was . . . a little trippy. I'm not used to guys treating me like that. When I say 'stop,' they stop. Or I cause them a massive amount of pain."

This was just his dream, remember. An odd little adventure his mind had cooked up between insomnia and weed-induced unconsciousness. He had no idea how a woman would really react. He just made her say the things he thought she should say. And, of course, this was before she'd told him what had happened with that guy . . . whatever his name was. The guy she'd had to kick and claw at to get him off of her.

In his dream, he wanted her to like it, but he wasn't sure she would. But, being in a world of his own making, things turned out the way he wished they would. In real life, however, he knew if he ever did such a thing, she'd leave him without a second thought. She'd lived through such a thing once, and to knowingly put her through it again . . . he'd deserve to have the shit kicked out of him.

But in his fantasy world . . .

He reached over and untied her other shoulder strap. "I still want you, you know." He kissed her on her neck as he tended to her previously untouched breast. "Right here," he added. "On your knees."

Mecca laughed. "You men and your one-track minds."

He scooted closer to her, settling his erection on her left thigh. He then licked the outer shell of her ear. "Please."

"Daniel . . ."

His hand dropped from her breast to the crux of her thighs. Once there, he proceeded to rub her through the cotton of her dress and the lace of her panties. Even through the two layers he could feel her heat. As he continued his ministrations, stroking her slit, massaging her mound, and kneading the firm, supple flesh of her inner thigh, he moved himself even closer to his female companion, his legs stretched out on either side of her, his chest to her back, his head on her shoulder, his rock hard cock just above her hip bone.

He silently slid his hand up her dress and made a direct assault on her center of pleasure, causing her to moan and gasp, her shapely ass grinding into his groin. "On your knees," he urged her. "Grip the headstone, spread your legs, close your eyes and enjoy."

He lifted her dress further up her seated form, situating his pulsating member in the crease between her hip and thigh. The hollow was soft, perfectly smooth, wonderfully warm and already slick with her perspiration. He rocked himself against her, his own thrusts keeping time to the rhythm of his thick digits as he finger-fucked her tight hole.

She threw her head back against his shoulder, biting down on her lower lip.

He quickly pulled his fingers away.

Mecca groaned.

"No," he lightly warned her. "I wanna be inside you when you come this time."

"Daniel . . ."

He gave her a slight push forward. "On your knees."

At last, she obeyed, planting her bare knees in the soft earth as her hands took hold of the cool marble of his mother's headstone. She glanced over her shoulder at him, lifted her dress, then spread herself wide.

"She would have liked you," he slid in behind her, his boxers and pants pooled around his knees, his weeping dick in hand. He placed one of his hands over hers, then guided himself home. Her sheath was smooth and tight, gripping him in the most delightfully warm and wet embrace, fully engulfing him, completely accepting him, totally absorbing him. His grip momentarily tightened on her hand as a jolt of pure pleasure shot down his spine at the shear bliss of being joined so intimately with another human being.

He laid his head on her shoulder, simply savoring the tightness and rightness of their union, Mecca's juices continuing to coat his cock as he worked his hips slightly up and down, rubbing his heated groin against her puckered anus.

"A lot," he finally added, turning his lips, again, to the sensitive flesh of her neck.

Mecca sighed, sinking back against him. "So . . . good."

He slipped his fingers between her parted digits, gripping her hand tightly as he earnestly began to move within her.

"Fuck, Daniel."

He couldn't see her face, but he could tell that she was gritting her teeth. "Relax," he cooed to her, running his other hand along her side, lightly grazing the underside of her breast. He knew he was big, and he could feel how tightly he'd stretched her, but he was hoping he'd properly prepared her. "Please, Mecca." He kissed up and down her spine as he stilled his hips and massaged her right ass cheek. "Let me make you come."

"Daniel, it . . ."

His hips remained stationary as his mouth continued to move, up her back, across shoulders, over to her right ear then to her left. "You feel so good . . . Please, don't ask me to stop."

"Never," she shook her head violently. "Too . . . good . . ."

He felt a grin of self-satisfaction creep onto his face. "Is that right?" he whispered.

"Dammit, Daniel. Please. Get on with it."

He pulled back an inch then pushed back in. "Is that what you want?" he asked, teasing her. "You want my cock in that hot, little hole."

"Please," she groaned. "Move it."

"Like this?" he put a little swerve in his hips, rubbing it all the way around her inner walls.

"No!" she screamed. "Fuck me. Hard. Now."

He drew her left earlobe into his mouth then lightly worried the tiny piece of flesh between his teeth. "You mean you don't like this?"

"Daniel . . . please . . . make me feel good."

"You want it?" he asked gruffly.

"Please . . . I need you."

He gently took hold of her chin, forcing her to face him. He kissed her, then. Deeply. Purposefully. Passionately.

When he finally released her, her eyes were dazed, her lips were swollen, and her breathing was deep and ragged. "Do as I said."

Dutifully, she closed her eyes, turned away from him and tightened her grip on the tombstone.

He began slowly, drawing it out then pushing it back in, relishing each one of the wonderfully tight slides. Mecca moaned, arching her back, keeping perfect time with each of his thrusts. "Does it feel good?" he asked casually.

"Very," she panted.

And so he picked up his pace, decreased the distance of his entrances and exits, not taking it all the way out, but always slamming it all the way in. She'd shudder and gasp and moan, her hips constantly in motion, her hands opening and closing, clenching and releasing the headstone as he fucked her from behind.

"Yes," she cried out. "More, Daniel. More."

As he increased the intensity, plowing into her at full speed, his cock pistoning in and out of her, sucked into her hot, wet interior then expelled into the cooling night air, the facts of the "real" world slowly began to slip away.

His knees weren't being rubbed raw from the dirt beneath them. His thighs weren't straining from exertion. His ass wasn't burning with exhaustion. His hair wasn't plastered to his head with sweat. His hand wasn't cramping from holding onto hers so tightly.

There was her, there was him, and there was this amazing rippling effect as his hips rammed into her ass, the resilient, fleshy but firm globes, absorbing most of the shock of his repeated blows.

"So . . . Damn . . . Goo-ood!"

He closed his eyes, meeting his orgasm head on, enjoying the fantastic free fall as his balls tightened, forcing fluid into his thick shaft that roared, then spurted, and finally dripped from the slit in its head.

Mecca convulsed as her own orgasm overcame her, buoying her up then dragging her down into a peaceful heap on the ground as the tiny tremors moved through her, signaling her satisfaction and milking him for all he was worth.

* * *

"Dammit!" Daniel cursed. He was trying to relax, trying to fall asleep, he didn't mean to...

He turned his head to the side as his female companion, again, began to stir. He closed his eyes and silently prayed she didn't notice. He'd only been joking about that coming-on-her-face-while-she-slept bullshit, and, technically, he didn't get it anywhere near her. But it was all over him.

Mecca yawned and stretched beside him, her form still nude from their previous love-making. She opened one honey-colored eye then the other.

"Morning," he said somewhat uncertainly.

The girl laughed. "It's not morning. It's still dark outside. Didn't you get any sleep?"

He shook his head.

She put her hand on his bare thigh and gave a light squeeze. "Still pretty wired, huh?"

"Something like that," he nodded.

Then she felt it. Her hand stilled, and she pulled it away to examine it, giving it a light sniff then a tentative lick. "Have you been masturbating?" she laughed.

He folded his arms over his chest, refusing to answer.

"You could've just woken me up, you know."

Still no reply.

She propped herself on her elbow, exposing those lovely, large tits and her splendid throat. "Or were you dreaming?" she asked. "Something naughty?" she prodded. "Maybe about me."

"Don't be stupid," he finally said. "Why would I dream about you when you're lying right here?"

Mecca shrugged. "I had a dream about you."

He shook his head, the barest amount of coloring rising to his cheeks. "Quit lying."

"Fuck you, then. I won't tell you about it."

He laughed to himself, at last letting his arms fall back to his sides. "What was I doing in this . . . dream of yours?"

Her smile grew. "Amazing things."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Doing laundry, cleaning the bathroom, washing the dishes . . . You were incredible."

He shook his head again, trying not to smile. "You just ain't right. You know that, right?"

"I told you. Girls don't dream about sex. It's completely attainable for us in real life, so why waste valuable dream time on that bullshit."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

She scooted over to his side, then snuggled against him, nestling her chin in the crook of his shoulder, her bare breasts resting against his left bicep. "Whatta you mean?"

"So what if I did have a sex dream? What's wrong with that? Not very prude-like, I might add."

"But ultimately pointless," she shrugged.

"So, you've never had a sex dream about anyone at any time," he stated flatly.

"Nope," she agreed. "I have more interesting things to occupy my mind. Like being elected president. Or going into space. Or . . . having my first kid. These things are maybes. They could happen, just not very likely that they will happen. Sex is just . . . Well, it's not blasting off into space."

"Isn't it?" he asked.

Mecca shook her head. "You are so weird, Daniel."

"I mean, you don't feel like you're lifting off or . . . I don't know . . . just . . . going off into another world?"

"Don't get me wrong, darlin'. It . . . it feels really good . . . with all the tingling and trembling and when you . . . when you kind of care about the other person involved, it's just really . . . magnificent. But . . . that's a real world pleasure. I don't have to close my eyes and nod off to sleep to get my rocks off. If there's someone I wanna fuck, I just go out and try to do it."

Daniel swallowed hard and tried to get the words out before he honestly forgot what he was going to say. "I, uh, I had a dream about you."

"I knew it!" she laughed. "What was I doing?"

"It, um, wasn't now. It was, um, right after Mom died, I, uh . . . I dreamed that you showed up at the funeral and, uh . . ."

Mecca frowned. "You had me fuck you in a church?"

"No, um . . . in the cemetery," he admitted quietly. "I just . . . really wanted someone to . . . live with me, you know. Be alive with me. To breathe and . . . all that other living crap."

"So I fucked you in a cemetery."

"After I . . . kind of . . ." He gave his head a mental shake too timid to tell her what he'd really done to her in the dream. If she knew he had dreams like that, maybe she'd think he wanted to make them a reality. "Begged you to do it."

She smiled at him, a warm, endearing light shining through her lies. "I would never make you beg," she said. "That's just . . . mean."

"I really liked that card," he finally said. "That one you gave me at the viewing."

"You already thanked me for that, dumbass."

He laughed, grasping her tightly around the shoulders, pulling more of her onto him. "I had that dream because of that card."

Mecca laughed. "So, Hallmark makes you randy, huh?"

"No, um, you're . . . you're a . . . you . . ."

"Just spit it out, Daniel. C'mon now."

"You're um, you're a really . . . b . . ."

"Bitchy person," she laughed.

"No, uh . . ."

"Bad-ass?" she poked him in the ribs.

"Yes, but no."

She thoughtfully gnawed on her lower lip. "Couldn't be boring. Mecca is many things, but boring isn't one of them."

Lying there, looking at her, feeling her pressed so closely against him. Hearing her laugh, seeing her smile. Smelling his scent lightly wafting from her skin. "Beautiful," he finally said.

She laughed again, not as easily as before. "You are really full of it tonight, aren't you, Daniel."

He shook his head. "You're it for me," he said. "I'd be . . . royally fucked if anything happened to you."

She wiggled away from him, rising to a seated position. "Shut up, Daniel."

He sat up, too. "What? What did I say?"

She raised her hands defensively, seemingly trying to ward him away. "Just shut up, okay."

"I mean, you . . . feel the same way, right? I mean, at the shop you . . ."

She swallowed hard. "I don't . . . use those words any more," she said.

"What words?"

"The 'L' word," she rolled her eyes. "I don't use it. I certainly don't say it, and I never wanna hear it."

"What?" Was he dreaming again? Was this some odd delusion his brain had worked up in its sleep-deprived state?

"I don't wanna get into this right now. I mean, we're having a good time, right? I like being with you; you like being with me. Everything's cool. That's good enough."

He shook his head. "I don't understand."

Her shoulders slumped and she sighed heavily, inadvertently causing her bosoms to bounce. "You know how I said I wasn't . . . used to having people treat me the way your dad did?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm . . . I'm not used to anybody treating me that way. I mean, every now and then I might find someone that kind of gets me. But, ultimately, it never lasts, and I end up feeling more alone than I did before I met him. I . . . I'm feeling good right now, Daniel, and I don't wanna think about not feeling good. I don't wanna think there'll be a time when you . . . don't wanna fuck me any more . . . or just plain don't wanna have me around."

"That's . . . beyond ridiculous," he countered.

"It happens," she said flatly. "You'll wake up one day and just . . . see this as some tremendous mistake and wonder how the hell you're gonna get the hell out of this shit. You'll forget about the shop. You'll forget about the card. You'll forget . . . how nice your father is to me, and you'll just--Shit!" She jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. "Why do you men always have to ruin everything?!"