Charlotte Chronicles XLI
August 14, 2014 | 
Charlotte Chronicles | 
(1)
Need to catch up? Here’s a link to Charlotte Chronicles from the beginning.
Warning: Hot! click for more!
Nathan
“What are you doing here?” she spits at me. I stalk her until she crumples into a nearby sofa. Leaning forward, I place one arm on the back near her head.
“We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
“Really?” She scoffs. “You had nine years to say something. The time for talking is over. Get out.”
Her arms are folded at her side and she refuses to look at me.
“I’m not leaving until you tell me why you were on my beach.”
“Your beach,” she sputters but I interrupt her.
“The only people that come to that part of the beach on Coronado island are frog hogs, curious tourists, and wannabes. Which one are you?” I demand angrily. I want to rage at her that I’ve been faithful to her for nine years and she’s sleeping with some guy, sharing a hotel room with him, bringing him to my beach. Who is he? I want to howl.
“I should slap you right now,” she stands up, pushing my arm away. We’re about two inches apart now.
“For what? For not touching another woman in nine years? For thinking of you every minute of the day? For reading and re-reading your letters until they are almost worn through?” I want to shake her, kiss her, make love to her until we can’t move a finger.
She gapes at me in disbelief. “What are you talking about?”
“I haven’t slept with, fucked, had a blow job, gone down on another woman, brought her off, had a hand job by anyone other than myself in nine years. That’s what I’m talking about. I haven’t had sex. Not the Bill Clinton kind and not any other kind with another woman since I slept with you when I was eighteen and you were sixteen. No one. That’s what I’m talking about. Can you say the same thing?”
“Yes, dammit, I can,” She shouts back. She claps a hand over her mouth but it’s too late. I don’t know who that guy is that walked out of the room and I don’t care now because he never had her. He’s never been inside her. He’s never licked her sweet juice or touched her sweet pussy.
“You’re mine, Charlotte Jackson.” I pull her flush against me with one hand and drag her hand away from her mouth with the other. She says something but I don’t know what it is because my mouth is on hers. My tongue traces the seam of her lips demanding entrance.
She tastes of salt.
And home.
And forever.
Her lips part and I’m inside her. I’m licking every square centimeter from her teeth to the cheek to the sensitive roof. Her tongue rubs against the side of mine. I can feel her lips moving when it hits me. She’s kissing me back! I spear my fingers through her hair to angle her head so I can kiss her deeper…I want to embed myself in her senses so that she can’t remember anything but me. We sink into the cushioned sofa until her whole body is pressed under mine. I can feel her from shoulder to thigh. Her hardened nipples jut into my pecs.
She kisses me and I’m thrown back to a time in my life where everything was innocent and sweet. When I’d taken her virginity and wished I’d saved my first time for her.
Her fingers run restlessly along my waistband as if she wants to touch me but is afraid. And I’m afraid. Afraid if I stop kissing her she’ll turn me away. I have to show her that she can’t live without me. I have to make her need me.
Slowly I push my way down her body, pressing my lips against the hollow of her throat and along the neck of her shirt. I wanted to take it slow. I knew I should. Then I heard her groan. Her legs pull up and her thighs tighten against my hips. I felt the slight pump of her pelvis against my stomach. I fell on her like a hungry beast.
She still had the shorts on that she’d been wearing at the beach. I ran a hand over the leg closest to the sofa back, enjoying the feel the delicate ankle up to the fleshy, creamy thigh. Her breathing hitched when my thumb crept under the shorts hem.
“Oh Nate, we shouldn’t,” she says but her movements make my thumb slip even higher until I’m touching the elastic of her panties. I pull up her shirt with my teeth and expose her smooth, flat belly to my hot gaze.
“Yes we should,” I say hoarsely and press my thumb against the dampened cotton. “Charlotte, baby, you are wet for me. Just from kissing. I know you’re aching down here.” I rub my thumb back and forth and the cotton gets even wetter. “Let me take care of this.”
“Nate…” she says hesitantly.
“After, baby, we can talk after.” I slid my thumb underneath the panties. My whole hand is under the hem now. My fingers are gripping her hip and my thumb is seeking heaven. “I can feel this little spot needs my attention. I’m going to make this up to you, baby, starting right now.”
With my free hand, I unfasten her shorts and pull them down her gorgeous thighs. She lifts her legs to help me. Whatever protestations she might have, they aren’t in control now. Her passion is driving her. She sits up and I help her remove her shirt and then mine.
When she reaches for my waistband, I stop her. “No, this is for you, baby. This first time is all you.”
I run my hands over her chest, down the sides and up to cup her breasts. “These are bigger than I remember,” I whisper reverently. Leaning over I press my face into the valley of her cleavage. “Softer.” I kiss the plump tops that aren’t covered by the satin of her bra. “More delicious.” I tug the cup down on one side and draw her nipple into my mouth, gentle at first and then harder until I hear her gasp and her fingers grip my head. Yeah, my baby likes it a little rough. I’d been so careful with her before because she was ill but now her cheeks were plump, she had a slight curve in her belly and I felt like I could do all the dirty, hot things I’d fantasized about.
I slip my fingers inside her panties, past the soft curls until I reach her plump wet sex.
“Nathan…” Her words are a plea not a protest.
I suck at her breasts, first one and then the other while my hand is busy reacquainting itself with the wet, tender flesh between her legs. I think of torture, of BUD/s training week when the Naval officers tried to kill us. I think of Somalia, Ghana, Iran. I count baseball statistics and all the times the Cubs have fucked up their chances for a pennant. I bring all of these to the forefront of my mind so I don’t come from the feel of her sex.
“Can you tell me how you like it?” I ask. She shakes her head wordlessly, flushing a violent shade of red. I grin at her and I can tell seeing me smile is almost—almost—as good as my fingers rubbing her pussy. My internal emotions are at war with each other. There’s regret for all the shit I put her through; resolve for how I’m going to make up for it; and craving to have her a million times and a million times more. “I’ll see for myself.”
I dip my head back to her breasts. Her thick, erect nipples are begging to be in my mouth. I slide my index finger inside and she clenches down as if I’m some foreign invader. “Shhh,” I lean up and press my mouth against hers. “It’s just me. God, baby, you are so tight. It’s like our first time, doesn’t it?”
She nods and grabs my shoulders to press me down harder on top of her. I take her mouth, demand her tongue and as she kisses me, I press my finger all the way until my palm slaps against her outer sex. It’s all she needs and she’s coming, clenching me, squeezing me everywhere. Her hands dig into my skin and her breasts press against my chest as her back bows.
As she comes, I push another finger inside her, preparing her because she’s so tight I’m afraid I’ll hurt her. Our kiss has turned frantic and sloppy as she shakes around my fingers.
Rising up on my knees, I suck her liquid off my fingers. Her eyes widen in shock. “That’s one,” I say.
“One what?”
I lay my palm on her upper chest and drag it down to her stomach. Under my hand, she trembles. “One orgasm. I owe you nine tonight. One for every year we’ve been apart. When I’m done, those years will be part of our past.”
“Orgasms aren’t going to make up for everything.”
“Let’s see what you have to say in the morning. Take your bra off,” I order as I move down her body. I’m desperate for the taste of her. I pull her panties down her legs and toss them on the table. Lowering myself to the floor, I kneel down between her legs. “Look at how beautiful you. Your pussy is so pink and swollen. It looks like an exotic fruit. I can’t wait to eat it.”
She makes a strangled noise and puts her hand between her legs to cover herself. “I don’t think—“
“You’re right.” I interrupt. “No thinking. Only feeling.”
I realize that I’m going to have to be on all night because if I stop once, doubts will creep on. Well, game on. I have the stamina of a warrior and this is my greatest battle I will ever face.
“I never ate you out enough when we were teenagers. Tonight you’re going to experience what it feels like to have a man between your legs.”
I dived in, sucking those juicy lips into my mouth and tonguing every inch of her. Whatever objections she had die on her tongue as she grabs my head. She’s starving for pleasure and I’m hungry to give it to her. I press her legs open, as far apart as she’ll let me. I lose myself between her legs. Her spicy aroma filling my head and the tangy sweet flavor of her arousal flooding my tongue. The rock hard appendage between my legs is begging to thrust into her. She’s going to feel so fucking fine.
I lap at her, spearing her with my tongue in rhythmic thrusts. Her breath is weak and shallow, coming in breathless pants above me. I peak up to see her head thrown back, her breasts are taut and bouncy as her hips pulse against my mouth. One of her hands is dug into the cushions, the nails scoring the fabric while the other is caught in my short hair urging me closer. Then I remember.She likes it a little rough. She probably is too shy or doesn’t realize what she enjoys. So I bite her tiny clit and she goes off like a rocket.
Her scream can probably be heard three doors down. I keep licking and nipping as she squirms and bucks under my mouth.
I stand up. My dick is so hard it hurts. I pull down my cargo shorts and her eyes widen at the site. I’m commando because I didn’t want to waste time after running and showering with stupid things like clothes. After I got Nick’s text that she was at the Del and I should hurry, I sped home, took the shortest shower possible and threw on the top two things in my dresser which was a PT shirt and a pair of ratty old shorts. I grab myself and give my cock a rough hard stroke and squeeze. “I’ve waited for you, baby. And I’d have waited for you forever. This cock only wants to be inside you. It only wants to feel your hand, your mouth, your pussy.”
“I—I don’t know what I want.” She’s flushed, aroused, and confused. That’s okay.
“I do. Your pussy wants this. I’m not using a condom, baby, because I’ve only been with you and you’ve only been with me.”
“But what about pregnancy.”
“You think I care about that?” My brows furrow together. “I want you pregnant. I want our baby in your belly. I want it all Charlotte.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she says but she licks her lips like she’s hungry for the taste of me on her tongue. I squeeze my cock harder and pre cum seeps out the tip.
“Don’t deprive of something we both want. You know you want to feel me without a barrier.” I step out of my shorts and reach for her. I’m not fucking Charlotte on a sofa after nine years of separation. “Where’s the bed?”
I carry her into the bedroom and throw her on top of the king sized bed. “You’re more beautiful than you’ve ever been, baby. I can’t stop looking at you.”
I push her legs apart and climb between them. “I’ll pull out,” I promise. “I want to see my cum on you anyway.”
“Don’t think that this solves anything,” she warns. “Just because I want to have sex with you doesn’t mean we’re in any kind of relationship.”
I smooth my hands down her inner thighs over the tops of her smooth knees. “Course not. Just means that you won’t be having sex with anyone else.” Ever again I finish in my head.
“For now,” she retorts stubbornly.
Forever. “Can we negotiate later when all my blood isn’t pooled in my cock? I need you, baby. I need to be inside you. Let me in.”
“As long as you acknowledge that me sleeping with you doesn’t mean I forgive you or that I’ve forgotten. You haven’t explained anything to me.”
“That’s fair,” I say dreading that conversation and hoping I can put it off for a long time or at least until I can cobble together something that approaches an explanation. I place my cock at the entrance of her sex, for a moment enjoying the sight of her flushed rosy flesh opening for my hard cock. “And baby we aren’t going to sleep a wink tonight.”
Need to catch up? Here’s a link to Charlotte Chronicles from the beginning.
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