| Wanted: Chapter 3 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I awoke looking into eyes the color of violets. It was my favorite thing about him. “Good morning Sleeping Beauty,” he said sexily pressing his lower body to mine and moving ever so gently. Mental note to self: Hide the Anne Rice erotica books for a while, can’t have him running out of inspiration too soon. But damn, you gotta love a man whose idea of morning exercise is sex. “Morning Rapunzle,” I said back to him, running my fingers through his hair. “I missed you last night,” he pouted – emphasizing his meaning by pulling my left leg over his hip and pressing me harder into the bed. I smiled dreamily up at him. “I missed you too.” And with that I pulled his soft lips to mine, wrapped my other leg around his lean, muscular body and surrendered everything. Over the time that we had been together I had been teaching him to take control. And while he still preferred to be the bottom in the relationship, he was beginning to sense when I needed to let go and he would take over. I would always tell him “Do unto me as you would have me do unto you.” Blasphemous? Maybe… but it worked. Nowadays if one of us didn’t come away with at least one lasting mark everyone thought there was trouble in paradise. And then, when we had to call Dr Lillian in for stitches, they thought he had asked me to marry him. He stopped suddenly – a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, a knowing smile on his lips. I went to slap him to get him going again but he caught my wrist an inch from his face. My eyes widened in surprise – he had never stopped me before. “Tut tut tut… not this time.” His eyes darkened and the smile melted away. His face showed pure carnal hunger. He kissed me roughly, drawing blood. He growled deep inside. Not a growl of his beast though. It was his growl for when he was getting frustrated at not getting what he wanted or needed fast enough. I began to struggle hoping to get his mind back on track for what he wanted – it usually helped him focus. I was right. He seized my other hand and jerked me off the bed. I stumbled coming off the bed, but he grabbed me around the waist to keep me from falling. My arms were now around his neck, our faces a breath apart. I tried to kiss him but he drew back and smiled devilishly. He was enjoying this. He turned us around and threw me against the wall, his body following mine – trapping me, my legs coming up to encircle his slender waist. A chair scraped across the floor upstairs and a second later the door to the basement was wrenched open and Zane’s voice came playfully yelling down at us. “’Eh! People are trying to eat up here – you two need to keep it down. Take a break or something – geez!” The door creaked as he closed it. “Show offs,” we heard him mumble as the door clicked closed behind him. We both burst out laughing which caused wonderful sensations that brought us back to where we were. I leaned my head forward and licked the side of Nathaniel’s face, tasting the salty sweetness of him. Not only did he smell like vanilla, but he tasted like it too. He nudged my le with his hand indicating to me to let go. As soon as my feet hit the floor he stepped back, turned me around roughly, and pressed me against the wall again. He moved my hair aside and bit down on my neck in that spot that meant “don’t move” in kitty bite. I moaned – a mixture of pleasure and pain. He clasped my hands in one of his, held them against the wall above my head, and proceeded to have his way with me. I cried out at least a dozen times – ecstasy or torment I didn’t care which. He had reached the perfect mixture – he could have ripped my throat out at that moment and it would only have made the climax that much greater. The point where most true bottoms forget to say “stop”. The point that had gotten Nathaniel into that same situation several times before – but not anymore. I was the only one to top him now and I knew what he could handle and when to stop myself. But being on the receiving end, I didn’t stop him because I knew he wouldn’t truly hurt me. Finally we both just stood there panting against the wall, our heartbeats erratic. He had to support me because my legs couldn’t hold me just now. As our senses returned to normal we heard it. Something heavy was banging against the floor upstairs. Over the banging we could hear Zane’s voice. “OH YEAH BABY! THAT’S IT! F*CK ME BABY! OH JASON YOU STUDMUFFIN – YOU MAN-STALLION! YEAH JUST LIKE THAT!” There was a loud smack. “TAKE THAT YOU DIRTY B*TCH,” Jason yelled. “YOU LIKE THAT DON’T YOU? THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT! YEAH! WHOSE YOUR DADDY?” “OOH YEAH!” It was Zane again. By this time I had put on my robe and Nathaniel had pulled on a pair of shorts and we were making our way up the stairs. “OH YEAH! OH YEAH! YEAH! OH! OH ! OOOH! OOH!” I opened the door and almost fell back down the stairs laughing. “OOH OH AAAAAARRRRRRGGGHHHHHH YEAH!” They finished. What we walked in on was Zane lying on his back on the kitchen table (fully clothed) his legs in the air with Jason standing between them playing Top. “Yeah you’re my b*tch,” Jason said throwing one of Zane’s legs over to his other side and flopping down in the nearest chair. “Somebody get me a cigarette – I really need one after that piece of ass.” “Who you callin’ B*tch? ‘Ho!” Zane cried in his fake gay voice, sitting up on the table straightening his imaginary skirt. “Yeah, you didn’t seem to mind while I was f*cking your brains out.” “Hmph.” There was a loud ##SNARF## from a corner of the kitchen. I looked over to see Cherry and Gill curled up on the floor holding their stomachs, laughing their asses off. They were doing their best to breath but it was a losing battle – every time they came close to stopping the boys did or said something to get them going again. Zane got off the table and walked over to the fridge. Jason pinched his ass as he passed by. “You know you want me,” Zane said. “Ooh baby!” Jason replied. “Ok ok we get the picture,” I said walking further into the kitchen, picking up a chair that had gotten knocked over, and sitting down. Nathaniel pulled up a chair to my right and swung a leg over mine. He picked up a plate of pancakes and began eating. This house gave new meaning to the words communal food and sharing. “Nathaniel, you really need to get a new exercise program,” Zane said helping Cherry off the floor. “Did you know,” Nathaniel said matter-of-factly, “that sex burns 350 calories a session?” “Well you just burned about 5,000… eat up,” Zane replied, placing a fresh plate of pancakes in front of him. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 4 Index |