Cat on the Fence III

The man rocked his hips forwards slightly in a way which pressed the girl firmly against the railing separating her from certain death, and pressed the stiffening presence of his crotch against her own... But the girl felt no need for a complaint. All she could do was tighten her hands around the railing in an attempt to prevent herself from grinding against him; a weak attempt for release. "'You feel that?" the man only spoke lowly and to the tune of his lips brushing the skin... the same brushing that completely undid any ease Blue thought she had managed to gather in the depths of their witty banter and small, flirty smiles.

"What?" She asked with a quiet, thin word, struggling to find her own voice. Perhaps it was due to how self-conscious she felt with his hands on her stomach. Perhaps it was due to the fact that she had never before in her life felt quite as aroused as she did with a fully-clothed dick so close to her crotch. She felt alight and as begging as she ever had... It was incredibly strange, all coaxed from a small movement of the man — she knew she was in for it. She had never before been so nervous and excited.

"You know what, Blue..." And with that, the man's hands moved from the girl's stomach as she shifted and faced him. She wasn't entirely sure if having his denim-clad erection against her was more comforting on her stomach or her ass — either way, she was unsettled in a nervous face with the very nervous pulse that filled her. And from there, her lips found his, and her hips and back found the edge of the railing.

He met her with a kiss of his own instantly, his mouth opening, tongue capturing hers, their embraces wrapped in the seamless night air. Blue's heart failed to slow — she felt as though the only thing that would calm her down would be throwing up into the night, certainly not kissing the man with all she had as though she suddenly had never been kissed before. It took no longer than a firm minute for Blue to realize that the man made her a complete mess, the man reduced her to a puddle so lacking skill and experience completely — the man made her a nervous wreck, to be frank.

She could feel it between her own thighs, the sensation of his hardening crotch against her, and stifled a gasp as his dwarfing hands mapped the surface of her back. He seemed to have the desire to consume her completely. He was quite well on the brink of it, too. He seemed as though he would completely take her form in on himself in the very way he drew her into his chest and clutched her with a passion she wasn't sure she'd ever experienced.

His lips failed to slow against her skin, his teeth following, seeking the flesh of her neck with no pause — and before Blue could talk herself out of it, she was reaching for the hem of his shirt with hands trembling by the effects of adrenaline and yanking the linen from beneath his belt.

"Fuck me," when she spoke, she watched readily for the man to meet her gaze with any sense of questioning — yet he looked just as at ease as he had the entire evening, no matter what she had said. It was an enviable skill — and probably how, exactly, he got to run a business he didn't even own.

"Right here?"

"Right here," and though she made the efforts to ensure her voice was firm and she tangled her hands in his shirt to still them, she had a slight frown sitting on her brows which told the man only one thing; kiss me.

It took only a moment longer for the man to push his lips to the waiting mouth of the girl just as he had only minutes before. He relished and savoured every movement and breath of the girl's lips twisting and dancing with his, each tug and graze of her teeth, each hum of her exhales...

She groaned with only the sound of a breath, her senses heightened by the lingering anticipation, shrouded in the sweetness of the night. He would never admit his own excitement, his arousal growing at the sight of the young woman before him, begging for his touch. It was a strange sight, one that struck him as oddly beautiful — to watch the female who stood by his touch, to gladly tilt her head back and accept his lips against her skin, soft and warm. To watch the woman through hooded eyes, as she reached for the buttons of his shirt with an eagerness. To feel her move with a gulp and a sigh as he gripped the back of her neck and clutched the skin of her throat against his mouth. To feel her hands as they unbuckled his belt and reached inside of his jeans.

—To feel her as he broke away and steered her against the balcony where she had been just before. To listen to the innocently loud grunt as he placed a hand on the back of her head and shoved with all he had. With all the sexual frustration. With all the desire and eagerness which had built because of the blonde and her wandering, mindless hands.

In just the span of a moment, he imagined what she would look like with both his hands around her throat — he wondered what she’d look like begging for him to let her take a breath. What she’d look like gasping for air with reddened skin where he had gripped and a dazed look evident of the brink of an orgasm.

Again, just as it was before, the balcony railing was harsh against her stomach. Yet it was something she couldn't bring herself to care about in the very moment she had Vincent's hands tugging her jeans and panties to her knees in one sweep. And just as she had begun to come to terms with the fact that her entire lower region was out for the world to see, she felt it.

It all seemed far too fast for him to revel in the sheer insanity of what he was doing — too fast to bask in the impulsiveness and risk of the moment, yet it took only a moment for him to push himself inside of her. A moment longer for the girl to gasp and inhale sharply with a breathy moan of 'keep going' without words. A moment longer for the man to meet her hips and rest inside of her. And in that very moment, he found himself lingering and savouring the feel of her flesh around himself — the very flesh stretching to embrace him.

While Blue felt the need to cry out into the night, just as the man slid a hand through the hair at the back of her head and took the clump into his fist, she made little more sound than a sweet, half-silent groan. Furthermore, little more movement than her hand tightening around the railing and her head slackening against his grip.

Who would have known that the man she enjoyed herself most around was the one man her parents didn't introduce her to?

Gathering the girl's sandy, messed and tangled hair — a dirty blonde beneath the shattered starlight — in his closed fist, he tugged her ear to his lips with a yank of little regard at all and a small whisper of "keep your damn mouth shut or we'll both have some explaining to do," And with that, he released his grip on the girl's hair and cupped the base of her throat in his palm almost tenderly.

The pleasurable sense of pain grew with the intensity of his movements, a warmth sparking along her core that left her dizzy and delirious in the tangles of the thick night. And though her smile remained firm against her lips and her pulse danced dully against his hand, she sounded as though she were about to cry amidst the thickness of her own whisper. "You don't have to tell me twice,"

"Good girl," and with that, the man bent over Blue, slid a hand over her stomach yet again, brushed the back of her neck with the tip of his nose, and planted a warm, wet, feathery kiss against her skin with the heaves of his own breath and flexed his fingers affectionately around her neck. Blue's head spun.

As yet another thrust buried himself between her hips, her grip on the railing tightened until she felt the throb of her knuckles. Though she flexed her hips against his, she felt the need to shrink away into the railing as her own climax drew near. It was a curious shyness. And yet she just couldn't get enough of his every movement.

Another thrust threw Blue deeper into the grips of madness — submerged in the friction of their bodies moving against one another. She didn't care that her father was on the hunt for her. She didn't care that Vincent still being on the balcony after all that time was suspicious. She didn't care that just one glance through the master bedroom's bathroom window could pinpoint the pair fucking on the balcony. All she cared for was the man's lips as they danced against the skin of her neck and sucked gently at odd moments — the bite of his teeth on her earlobe, the clutch of his hand around the front of her neck, the press of her hips being forced into the balcony with each thrust.

The girl's gasps slipped beneath the curtain of music below just as her hips pushed back to eagerly meet his, shirt askew, breaths rough, core tightening around him in a way which suggested she didn't want him to leave...

It was something she had never accounted for, never once in her youth would she have ever predicted a man would be ravishing her in a place of exposure to the whole street. And yet she felt no worry — she felt some strange sense of pride.

The hollow union of their skin seemed to be masked by the amorous music below and excited chatter that swept the house — his grunts, her groans — every sound of their passion and building pleasure masked by the serene madness of what had been forgotten below. And yet neither took note of the sounds, shallowed by the thick French doors that hid beneath curtains... all he took note of was the way her pulse pounded against the palm of his hand. The way her stomach rose and fell against his hand as she gasped. The way the sounds of what would be grunts became muffled as they lodged in her throat.

Perhaps the desperation in her breathy gasps was what heightened the satisfaction of having the young lady wrapped around his arousal... In fact, he had quickly realised that her walking up the stairs was nothing compared to her full glory.

She felt him inch inside of her with such a clear pleasure she could have sworn his thrusts were sluggish – every swift, forceful movement of his hips met her skin with a throb of pressure in her lower stomach she'd never forget the feeling of; pleasure.

"'You like that view?" Vincent spoke only with a voice as rough as his thrusts, movements with ease, words and breath as low as the girl's. She mumbled an incoherent agreement, her hands strong around the railing beneath her as she rocked her hips back to his. She felt as though she needed to scream or cry out to tell the man to just give it all he had and let her have a part of the release she had never desired more, the release so close she could taste it, the release so unreachable.

"Stop teasing me," She gasped the words with gritted teeth. Perhaps she felt so sensitive because she had been forced into a silence. Perhaps she felt so restricted and overcome only because she had been restricted. Her fingers flexed around the railing as her eyes fell shut and she attempted to soothe the rough waters of pleasure that broke through her lower stomach and cleansed her core. And then she was cùmming, and it hurt so much and felt so damn good that the girl shook and tried greatly to stifle screams and cries of 'don't you dare stop'.

His own thrusts were growing uneven as the high continued through Blue, his hand clutching her stomach as he felt his own climax tugged from the depths of his desire and thrown between the girl's hips with odd jolts of warmth. It was a sensation lingering with the man's hand sitting firm and kind against the skin of her stomach, his chest resting against her back, lips sitting against the skin of her neck. Never in Blue's life had she wanted to curl up in the comforts of a bed more.

The next movements were gentle; he slowly removed himself from her, he buckled his jeans, he carefully tugged Blue's pants back up and over her hips, he turned the girl to face himself — and as she met his eyes, he smoothed over her hair. And just like that, he was doing something he'd never thought he would do. He was cleaning up the mystery girl from across the room just after he had fucked her senseless.

"Perhaps you should turn eighteen more often," With that, the blonde laughed. With that, her chest rose and met his... she hadn't even noticed that she'd been standing so close.

They had said nothing to the effect, yet they felt so intimate in the moment. It was odd and arousing and raunchy and conflicting beyond the word.

"Now that's something I truly haven't heard tonight,"