Chapter 139: Sarah (R18)

The second kiss burned hotter than the first.

Sarah’s lips claimed mine with deliberate hunger, her tongue sliding against mine as her fingers tightened in my hair. I held her waist firmly, feeling the soft give of her body through the beige sweater, the way her thighs bracketed my hips.

She shifted slightly, grinding down just enough to make my breath catch, and a low, satisfied sound vibrated in her throat.

When she finally pulled back, her glasses were slightly askew and her dark eyes were glassy with heat. A slow, knowing smile curved her mouth.

"You’re not going to stop me this time, are you?" she asked, voice low and a little breathless.

"Not a chance," I answered, my hands sliding up her back under the hem of the sweater. Warm skin met my palms. "We’re alone. Door’s locked. Take whatever you want."

Sarah’s smile sharpened into something playful and predatory. She reached down, gripped the bottom of her sweater, and peeled it upward in one smooth motion. The fabric cleared her head and was tossed aside without ceremony.

Underneath she wore a black lace bra that barely contained her. Full, heavy E-cup breasts strained against the delicate cups, the dark material contrasting against the pale, smooth skin of her cleavage and the soft swell above the lace.

Her stomach was gently curved in that mature, womanly way, soft, inviting, nothing of the hard athletic lines the academy girls carried. She was all rounded hips and full thighs, the kind of body that made a man want to sink his hands into it and not let go.

[Thick thighs saves lives!!]

She watched my face as she reached behind her back and unclasped the bra. The straps slid down her arms. The lace fell away.

Her breasts spilled free, heavy, round, tipped with dark pink nipples already tightening in the cool air of the room. They moved with a natural, luxurious weight when she shifted. I couldn’t look away.

"Like what you see?" she asked, almost teasing, almost daring.

"Fuck yes," I said, voice rough.

Sarah laughed softly, then stood from my lap just long enough to hook her thumbs into the waistband of her dark trousers. She pushed them down over the generous curve of her hips and stepped out of them. What remained stopped my breath cold.

Black lace panties sat low on her hips. A matching garter belt cinched around her waist, thin straps running down the outside of each thigh to hold sheer black stockings in place.

The contrast of the dark lingerie against her pale skin and soft, mature curves was almost unfair. Her ass was full and round, the kind of booty that filled out the lace perfectly and made my hands twitch with the need to grab it. She turned slightly, giving me the profile, and the way the garter straps framed the soft underside of her cheeks nearly short-circuited every coherent thought I had left.

"I wore these for you," she said simply. "I wasn’t sure anything would happen today... but I wanted to be ready just in case."

I swallowed hard. "You look incredible."

Sarah stepped back between my knees, still standing while I sat on the edge of the bed. She cupped my face again, thumbs stroking my cheekbones, and leaned down until her bare breasts brushed against my chest through my shirt.

"I need you to know something before we go further," she murmured. "I like to dominate in bed. Not extreme. Nothing rough or painful. Just... control. I like being the one who decides the pace, who tells you where to put your hands, who rides you until you’re shaking. It turns me on more than anything else. Is that going to be a problem?"

I met her eyes steadily. "No problem at all. My other women tend to prefer the opposite, being guided, being taken. I enjoy that. But I also enjoy this."

My hands slid up the backs of her thighs, feeling the warm skin above the stockings and the thin edge of the garter straps. "I don’t mind letting you take the lead. In fact, I’m looking forward to it."

Relief and heat flashed across her face at the same time. She kissed me again, slower this time, deeper, while her fingers went to the buttons of my shirt. One by one she opened them, pushing the fabric off my shoulders. I shrugged out of it. Her palms skimmed down my chest, over my stomach, mapping the muscle there with open appreciation.

"Lie back," she said softly.

I did. Sarah climbed onto the bed and straddled my hips again, this time completely bare from the waist up, the black garter belt and stockings still framing her lower body like an invitation.

She leaned down and kissed the side of my neck, then lower, dragging her lips across my collarbone. Her heavy breasts pressed against my chest, soft and warm, nipples dragging lightly over my skin with every small movement. I could feel the heat of her through the thin lace of her panties where she sat against me.

My hands rose to her waist, then higher, cupping the full undersides of her breasts. They overflowed my palms. I brushed my thumbs across the tight peaks and she made a quiet, pleased sound against my throat.

"That’s it," she whispered. "Touch them. Feel how soft they are."

I squeezed gently, kneading the heavy flesh, lifting and letting them settle again. Sarah arched into the contact, grinding slowly against the hard line of my cock still trapped in my pants. The friction was maddening. She kept the rhythm lazy and deliberate, never rushing, clearly enjoying the way my breathing grew heavier under her.

She sat up straighter, looking down at me with half-lidded eyes, and reached for my hands. She guided them to her hips, then lower, encouraging me to cup the full, soft cheeks of her ass. The lace was warm from her body. I squeezed, spreading her slightly, and she rolled her hips in a slow circle that made both of us groan.

"You’re so hard already," she murmured, almost pleased with herself. One of her hands drifted down between us and pressed firmly against the outline of my cock through the fabric.

She stroked me slowly through the cloth, mapping the length and thickness while her other hand braced on my chest. "I like that. I like knowing I did this to you."

She leaned forward again, letting her breasts hang above my face. I lifted my head and took one dark nipple into my mouth. Sarah’s breath hitched. Her fingers threaded into my hair and held me there while I sucked, tongue circling the peak, then switching to the other side. She was soft and warm and responsive, every small flick of my tongue earning a quiet sound of encouragement.

"Harder," she said, voice low. "I like it when you use a little more pressure."

I obeyed, sucking more firmly, grazing lightly with my teeth. Her hips stuttered against me. The lace of her panties was growing damp where she ground down. I could feel the heat of her even through the layers still separating us.

Sarah eventually pulled back just enough to look at me, lips parted, cheeks flushed. She reached down and unfastened my belt with practiced ease, then opened the button and zipper of my pants.

I lifted my hips so she could push the fabric down. My cock sprang free, thick and already leaking at the tip. She wrapped her fingers around me without hesitation, stroking slowly from base to head, thumb spreading the wetness.

"Look at you," she said, almost to herself, voice thick with appreciation. "So ready for me."

She shifted higher on my body, still stroking, and leaned down so her breasts brushed my stomach and chest while she kissed me again. The dual sensation—her soft weight above me, her hand working my cock with confident, unhurried strokes—made my head spin. I kept my hands on her ass, kneading the full curves, sliding my fingers under the edges of the lace to feel bare skin.

Sarah broke the kiss and sat up once more. She reached behind herself and unhooked the garter straps one by one, then rolled the stockings carefully down each leg. She left the belt and the black lace panties on for now. When she settled back astride me, the bare skin of her inner thighs was warm against my hips.

She took both of my hands and placed them on her breasts again. "Keep touching me," she instructed quietly. "I want to feel your hands on me while I take my time with you."

I obeyed, squeezing and stroking the heavy soft flesh, rolling her nipples between my fingers while she resumed stroking my cock with that same deliberate pace. Every so often she would grind the damp lace of her panties against the base of my shaft, letting me feel how wet she was becoming. The friction was exquisite and frustrating at once.

Time stretched. We stayed like that for long minutes, kissing, touching, exploring. Sarah’s hands mapped every line of my chest and stomach. Mine stayed busy with her breasts and the full, soft weight of her ass. She never rushed. She seemed to savor every small reaction she pulled from me, every quiet groan, every twitch of my hips.

Eventually she leaned down again, lips brushing my ear.

"I’m going to keep going until you’re aching for me," she whispered. "And then I’m going to ride you the way I like. Slow at first. Deep. Until you can’t think about anything except how good I feel around you. Does that sound fair?"

"More than fair," I managed, voice rough.

Sarah smiled against my neck, then kissed me once more, deep, claiming, full of promise. Her hand never stopped moving on my cock. Her body never stopped pressing soft and warm against mine. The black lace and the heavy curve of her breasts and the quiet authority in her voice wrapped around me completely.