Snow (sweptawaybayou) wrote,

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Day Off Fun. . .

Had a day off so I wrote a little PWP.
Not a fan fic, unless you count that I used *some*body as the male part. But just a little stress releiving fun.
Try it!

Night And Day

By Snow


It’s the middle of the night and I wake. I can feel him lying beside me. Our bed large enough that we don’t run into each other in our dreaming, but small enough that the heat that radiates from his body makes the covers almost superfluous. I turn, raising up on one elbow to look at him.

The soft moon light that spills in over us leeches the color, leaving everything in shades of gray. It takes out the rich chestnut brown of his short hair, makes his tan skin pale. His face is shadows. So that I can barely see his perfect bone structure. The strong jaw line covered in beard stubble, grown since the past morning’s shave. His nose, his sharp cheekbones. His eyes, hidden now behind his too long for a man lashes, moving under the closed lids as he dreams. My gaze falls on his lips. Soft. Rich. I can’t ever look at his mouth without a tiny shiver running through me, thinking of all the pleasure he has given me with just that one part of his body. Kisses. Bites. Licks.

I lean toward him, his masculine smell rising up into me. Virile, stimulating. I want to nuzzle my face into the warm hollow of his neck, rest my head on his broad shoulder.
But I don’t.

He’s pushed the blanket down to his waist, one large, callused hand fisted in it. The other lying invitingly open, palm up, beside me. Sparse, dark hairs curl around his wrists, down his rounded arms. I watch his smooth chest move. I can hear him breathing. Slow, deep, even breaths. I carefully untangle the comforter from his grasp, pulling it away from him. Letting it settle around our knees. He sleeps naked. In the dim light I can see his cock laying off to the side of it’s nest of thick brown hair. His muscular thighs contrast against the white of our sheets.

I drink in the view of this beautiful man.

I feel his hand move, touching my arm and I look back to his face. His eyes glitter, open now.

“What are you doing?”

He asks. His low voice a whisper that curls around me. His lips curving into a smile.

“Looking at you.”

I answer just as softly, not wanting to break this spell. His fingers tighten on my arm. We stare at each other in the moon light. The air between us becoming charged and electric. My own body temperature rising to meet his.

“Kiss me.”

I move without conscious thought at his request. Falling forward until I can taste the skin of his chest under my lips. Man flavored chocolate. I start at his ribcage and I can hear his sharp intake of breath when I pause to tease a flat nipple with my teeth. I place feather light kisses on his collarbone, the hollow of his throat. Then I rise above him, straddling him, knowing he can feel my wet wanting heat against him. I move my lips up, under his jaw, sucking on his ear lobe, feeling him shiver when I breathe in his ear.

I trace his hair line with my tongue, letting the softness of it tickle my nose. The smell of his day trapped there. The faint traces of shampoo, cigarette smoke from a late business lunch. Then his forehead, his eyebrows, his nose. Finally finding and worshiping his mouth. I’m all business here. No softness here, I devour him. Sucking. Pulling. Playing with his tongue, tasting his teeth. I forget to breathe.

I feel his hands on my head, tangle in my hair. He pulls me back an inch or two. Staring at me. His light brown eyes are black in the dark. He shifts underneath me and suddenly I can feel his hard cock pressing into my thigh.

I kiss him once more, unable to resist the impulse. Then I slide down him, making his hardness rub against my abdomen, bump my breasts, until it’s nudging my chin. I dig my fingers into his hips, his muscles tight with need. His dark, blood filled cock right in front of my face. I kiss his thighs, mouth his balls gently, only letting inadvertent touches fall on him. Then his hands are back in my hair, guiding me. Soft moans dragged from his throat. I let him move my head to meet his cock and kiss the tip. It jumps under my lips and I smile. His hands fall away as I let him in, my mouth wet from the salt of him. I swirl my tongue, increase the suction, try to take in his entire length. Impossible.

I love to suck him. I love the power, the control, the feel, the taste. I know that right at this moment I have his complete attention. His undivided focus. I have mini orgasms, little precursors to the main event just by giving him blow jobs.

I listen to his body, match his movements. He’s sweating now, his soft moans changing to a low hum, a sound he never realizes he makes. My sound. He’s almost there. I catch sight of his hands clenching the sheets beside me, his thighs shake with strain. His taste changes inside my mouth as he comes and I swallow him down. Still holding him in my mouth when he finishes, moving back just a little at a time. He flinches at the intensity.

He pushes me down on the bed, rolling with me, leaning over me. I forget when he’s beneath me or lying beside me just how big of a man he is. How strong he is.

He has the ability to fill a room with his presence, his charisma, his personality. He’ll never be ignored. And when we’re alone, when he opens himself to only me, I’m his slave. His puppet. I’m lost.

His face looms over me, his expression unreadable. His hands on my shoulders. I lift my head, trying to kiss him, but he pulls back, denying me. And just stares. I can feel his still hard cock against me. I wonder what he is looking for. I try to pull him to me, but he’s unmovable. Then his lips lift in a smile and he kisses me. Catching my lips in his teeth, filling my mouth with his tongue. His hands cover my breasts. His thumbs flicking at my hard nipples. I arch my back, open my legs, inviting him in. Begging him in. He just keeps kissing me.

I’m fucking the air, my sex pulsing, gasping at nothing. He moves a hand down to my hips, covers my wet heat with his palm. He leaves my bruised lips finally, marks a trail of hot, open mouth kisses down to my breasts. He rubs the tip of one with his rough short beard stubble, tingles of pain, then teases me with his teeth, little bites. Behind that, the soft heat of his tongue.

I rub against his palm. Trying to make some friction. He slips a finger inside of me, then two and I gratefully clench them, so ready. He feels it and stops, moving his head and his hand away.
I open my eyes, I’m dizzy with need. He’s staring at me again.

“I want to taste this.”

He drags his wet fingers up my belly, up the round of my breast to his mouth. He licks them like they are covered in honey. I can feel the orgasm building inside. I’m going to die.

I watch as he moves down the bed, settling below me, his face in between my spread thighs. I’m panting. Aching. He puts his hands under my bottom, lifting me. His thumbs spreading me wide. The room is spinning and I have to close my eyes again the instant his tongue touches me. He refuses to start a rhythm. He’s random chaos. Tasting. Biting. I feel the heat of his tongue at my opening, licking me. He nibbles at my clit. Then his mouth is on the skin of my inner thigh, kissing.

I can barely hear my soft pleads over the blood rushing in my ears. He acquiesces. He slides his fingers back into me, twisting them up. His mouth sucking desperately on my swollen nub. I explode into a million pieces. My mind shatters. He keeps it going on and on until I’m begging him now to stop. To let me breathe.

He moves up on top of me and thrusts his cock inside of me without warning. While I’m still shaking. He fills me completely, going unbelievably deep, then draws away and does it again. And again.
I grab onto him, wrap my legs around his hips, bringing his weight down onto me. Wanting to be covered and buried by him. His face is hidden in my neck, his breath burning on my skin. His hands underneath me, pulling me closer. His movements grow rough, short. I tighten my inner muscles around him. I still throb with the orgasmic echoes. A new one comes along and I ride the wave helplessly. He cries out my name, I feel his jaw clenching and he overflows in me with his hot semen. He shudders, moaning again. I stroke his smooth back, hoping I didn’t draw blood with my fingernails.

We lay still. Listening to our racing hearts beat against each other. I can barely breath from his weight crushing me, but I don’t care. Slowly he rolls off, onto his back. Still keeping his arms around me, pulling me with him. I rest my head on his chest, coil myself around him. He locks me in his grasp. Kisses the top of my head.

“I love you.”

I hear his quiet whisper once more before sleep claims us both.


I see her in the sunlight. Perhaps she is the sun. Sometimes I’m blinded by her radiance. I’m sitting at our dining room table, supposed to be reading this script. To be ready for tomorrow’s shoot. But she’s moved into the light and I’m distracted. She was sitting at her desk, writing. Her long, delicate fingers dancing on the keyboard, her mind a thousand miles away. Now she’s standing at the window, her expression solemn, her blue eyes thoughtful. She runs her hands through her long brown hair, twisting a strand and suddenly I want her. I’m uncomfortably hard inside my jeans with need for her. As though she catches my thought she turns and looks at me. She smiles and I stand up.

She’s waiting for me. Not moving. I walk into her light. Standing in front of her. She closes her eyes, waiting for me to kiss her, but I just can’t take my eyes off of her. I touch her chin, feeling the softness of her face. She peeks out from under her lids, her expression questioning. So I give in and kiss her. Her mouth is warm and I hold her neck in my hands, not trusting myself with them anywhere else, yet. Her kisses are like life to me. She says that I’m the intense one. That I’m the serious one, but she’s the one that kisses me like every time is the first. Like she never has before.

I pull away and her quizzical look is back.

“I thought you were memorizing.”

I smile at her.

“I though you were writing.”

She laughs softly and I see the pupils of her eyes dilate. I know now what was on her mind when she had stood up, got away from her writing. She’s so easy to read. She had been thinking about me. She was thinking about sex. Perhaps it was I that had caught her thoughts.

I begin unbuttoning her sundress. Slowly exposing her luscious skin. Her perfume fills my senses as I let her dress fall to the floor. I reach behind her, unhook her bra, releasing her breasts. She reaches to pull my shirt off, to undo my pants. I shake my head.

“Not yet.”

I’m kind of enjoying this restrained feeling. The cramped tightness of my crotch, of my jeans holding me in, holding me down. I kiss her again, letting her play with my mouth, suck my tongue. She knows just how to turn me into an animal. Her animal. I break away and start down her neck. So soft. I bury my head in between her breasts. Tasting her lotion, smelling her soaps. I slip a nipple in and out of my lips. Biting at the tip. She arches her back. Her hands on my head, in my hair. I feel her tremble. I kiss her gently rounded belly, marveling at the thought that our child was created in here. In this space. In this woman.

I ease her little white panties down her legs. Helping her step out of them. I’m on my knees on the floor now. Looking up at her. She smiles at me, warm, loving, wanting. I gently push her legs apart. She’s so wet already she’s practically dripping on my fingers. I start slowly, wanting this to last. I taste her musky salt as she opens to me. Her hands grip the edges of her desk behind her, her thighs shaking a little as I fill her with my fingers, tease her with my tongue. I couldn’t get lost in her, I know her too well, but I always like to try. So hot. So tight. So good. I can feel her body clenching, she’s close to orgasm. I turn my fingers just so, push up just a little more against her clit with my teeth and there. She’s gasping and crooning my name. I help her keep standing with my hands, as her knees threaten to drop her.

She pulls me up and kisses me, her hips still undulating against my jeans. I’m beyond uncomfortable now, my cock is painfully crushed. I let go of her, rip my clothes off. I’m as naked as she is and that’s much better. She pushes me back into her big desk chair. The leather is cold on my skin, but I don’t notice anything. She starts to kneel down, I know she wants nothing more than to blow my mind, but I am too far gone. I want inside of her. Right now.

I pull her into my lap. Lifting her so that she is straddling me, her legs on the chair’s arms. And then, slowly, oh, so slowly lower her onto me. I’m torn between watching my cock disappear in her and seeing her eyes as I enter her. She’s spread as wide as she can be, but it’s still like sliding into a warm, snug glove. Our motion in this position is limited and she falls against me, gripping onto my shoulders as I move her. She starts helping, straining her thighs against the chair and I put one hand in between us, touching her clit each time she comes down. Each time she takes me all the way in. She gets impossibly tighter as I stroke her, she’s shaking. I lean my head back, close my eyes, drowning in how she makes me feel. Her breasts rubbing hard against my chest. She starts kissing my neck, my face, finally my lips, begging me to let her come. To come inside of her. So I do. And then she does.

I keep her there, on my lap. Going soft inside of her as our sweat cools, our breathing slows.

“I love you.”

I hear her soft whisper in my ear, before we redress and the day lays claim to us again.


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