Skate (for Wank Wednesday)

Original page found here. Now, let’s see if I can do this. Oh, and this is from Jase’s point of view.

Skate

I’ve watched you. Every day, I’ve watched you from afar, from up close. Your elegance blinds me. Your trust in me, it humbles me. You say you need me, like an ice skater needs her partner to lift her, to hold her, to guide her across the ice.

Tonight, I’ve made dinner for you. Nothing fancy, just macaroni and cheese sauce, just the way I know you like it.

“Jesus, Jase, this is delicious!” you cry out in joy. “And you wonder how something so simple could give you a culinary orgasm.”

“Stick around, you might get a real one later on.” I wink. You smile knowingly, as if you can sense what is coming. I know what I’m going to do with you tonight. Every move, every touch, it will give us what we’ve desired for.

But still, I’m nervous. How can I not be? I’m blinded by your beauty. And you surprise me every single time. Be it a word, whispered in the heat of the moment. Be it a gentle stroke, where I least expect it. Every time, it happens.

With suitable fear and trepidation, I lay down on the bed and undo my belt buckle, as I watch you unzip yourself. Your dress drops down to the floor, revealing the fact that you are wearing only the flimsiest of lace knickers. I have to steady myself for a second. Every curve of your body looks beautiful tonight, as always. Your body bathes in moonlight streaming in from your bedroom window.

As a true seductress, you crawl on top of me, undoing the nuisance that is my new jeans. The look on your face as you undo my boxers too, is priceless, as if you’ve never seen my cock before. It worries me slightly…

“What’s wrong, babe?” I whisper gently.

“Nothing. I just like looking at him. At your soldier of love.”

I can’t begin to describe what an ego boost that nickname is. It makes me feel more manly.

“Talk to me.” you say. “Tell me something dirty.”

I hesitate. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Of course you can. Just tell me something that’s on your mind. Tell me what you want to do the most.” you say. To stimulate me, or perhaps to coax me into saying something, you lower your head and gently press your lips to the head of my cock.

“I..I.. I just want to fuck you. Fuck you hard.” I stutter. Then I regain myself and say: “Yeah, fuck your tight little pussy. Fucking fill it to the brim with my cock.”

Suddenly, in a move of pure adrenalin, I turn you over and pin you to the bed. You are taken by surprise, but giggle nonetheless.

“Are you laughing at me, miss?” I growl. “Are you laughing, knowing full well what I can do to you?”

“Do it.” you grin evilly. “Fuck me hard!”

I spread your legs and enter you. Eager to please, I thrust and thrust again.

“Do you hear that?” I grunt. “Do you hear my balls hitting your arse?”

You do nothing but moan.

Oh yes, I’m fucking you hard. And it feels amazing.

I come deep inside you, and you come undone from the sheer sensation of it.

We fit together, like two skaters making a bid for Olympic gold. Trust is the key.

 

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5 Comments

  1. Really loved this!

    Reply
  2. The literary critic in my pants is a big fan of this story… at least bigger than when I first started reading. 🙂

    Reply
    • Ooh, ye cheeky bugger 🙂 Can’t wait to read what you have in store for FMF… The cliterary (see what I did there?) critic is looking forward to that one 🙂

      Reply
  3. Great post, not always easy writing from the point of view of the opposite sex.
    Thanks for joining in again this week.
    Ruby

    Reply

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