A Night In Savannah

By

Darcy and Layne

Just as it always did when he was in an amorous state of mind, his voice dropped an octave, his accent became more pronounced. His vowels slurred, his consonants dropped, and he shortened every word he could. He did it unthinkingly, but somewhere in his consciousness, he was aware that it appealed to women and he used it, as much as he used them.

“It ain’t silly,” he murmured. His fingers followed, traced the intricacies of twisted hair. “But I want your hair loose.” His lips traced a path along the ridge of her shoulder. “You know a man likes to fill his hands with a woman’s hair, don’t you? Wrap it around his fists, smell it? What makes a woman’s hair smell so sweet, Lian? You gon’ tell me that?”

Slowly, she reached one shaking hand up to remove the band that held the braid in place. “I don’t know, Ben,” she answered, in a low, halting voice that barely made it past her lips. She felt his hands loosening the braid, separating the strands of hair and, when it was free, running his fingers through it, slowly and sensuously. Burying his face in it.

She turned to face him, feeling weak. Needing to hold onto something. Raising her hands to either side of his neck, she leaned forward to run her lips over that little hollow in his throat. She dared to run out the tip of her tongue, taste the skin there. Musky, slightly salty. She had a question of her own.

“What makes you different, Ben? What makes me want you so much? Enough to forget every moral my mother taught me.” She didn’t really expect an answer. It was simply her thoughts spoken out loud.

He felt her shudder as his hands traced up and down her sides, over her ribs, her waist, her hips. Christ, such sweet firm flesh, warm, alive under his palms. His hands were exciting her as much as touching her excited him. His cock was so hard it ached, he longed for her to touch him, squeeze him. Jesus, suck him.

Those warm, slightly rough hands awakened every nerve ending in her skin. The ache in her body that had, seemingly, begun when he first spoke to her, was expanding, deepening. The touching fueled it--fed it the way dry wood fed a fire. But she wanted more. Wanted to feel the skin of his body against her own.

When he grasped the hem of her top and pushed it slowly upward, she raised her arms, allowed him to rid her of one of the barriers between them. When it was gone, she leaned against him--looking up into his eyes. She raised herself slightly, laying one cheek against his, delighting in the feel of his beard against her skin. Then she cradled his face between her hands and kissed him. He immediately took control of that kiss, deepening it to the point she felt she was drowning.

His fingers found the notch between her legs and he cupped her. Warmth, scent, wetness. He could feel it, smell it. And sweet Jesus, he wanted it. In his mouth, on his face, squeezing his cock until it burst and flooded her with his seed.

“Lian,” Wade muttered. “Lay down with me now…”

She moaned at the touch of his hand between her legs. Tentatively, her own hand went down to him. Stroked the hardness beneath his jeans. His indrawn breath told her it had been the right thing to do.

“Yes, Ben,” she whispered. “I’ll lay with you.”

There wasn’t much to do to finish undressing her. He started on her shorts, let her fumble with his belt and zipper. Had to stop her when she would have pushed his jeans down over his hips because he still had his boots on. Her way, he’d have been hobbled like a damn mule.

So he finished himself, all the while taking in her nakedness with hot and eager eyes. Her body was beautiful. Slender, but lush, curving. His gaze took in the creamy contrast of tones where her skin was tanned and where it was not. The trimmed dark curls between her legs. Her pert tits, nipples plump and full, an enticing sight that made his mouth water.

He backed her to the bed, lay her down gently. And he kissed. Her mouth. Her throat. Her breasts and belly. She writhed for him, moaned for him. Face against her thigh, Ben Wade smiled a secret smile, and then he spread her knees wide and settled between them. Her scent was in his nostrils, her taste on his tongue. He cupped her buttocks in his hands and lifted her hips to press her even closer to his face.

When he spread her legs and touched her with his lips and tongue, she tensed momentarily--opened her mouth to tell him that she wasn’t sure about this, had never had this done to her before. But no words would come. Only a soft moan, as she felt the intimate touch of his mouth between her legs. God, it felt too good! She couldn’t protest, couldn’t even speak to tell him this was new to her.

With one hand, she clutched the quilt on the bed. The other hand tangled in his soft, brown hair, as he did things to her that she’d only dreamed about before. Her body was out of her control. It followed his directives now--whether they were spoken in words, indicated by his hands, his mouth, his body, communicated through his eyes on hers.

The scent and taste of a woman. Nothing like it in this world, Wade thought, as she came for him, her screams muffled against the back of her hand. He watched her writhe, her hips undulating in a primal rhythm that had him dying to slip inside. Oh yeah, this was going to be one sweet ride.

The orgasm came over her like a tidal wave. One moment, she was moaning and writhing as his lips and tongue stroked her. The next, her hips were rising--struggling to meet his mouth, to ride out the incredible sensations that had overtaken her. She could feel a scream rising in her throat, and she pressed the back of her hand against her mouth to muffle the sounds.

Slowly, she came down from that unbelievable high--her breathing ragged and gasping. She felt him kiss the inside of her thigh, and work his way back up her body, until he was watching her face, looking into her eyes. Incredibly, she could feel herself blushing, a little embarrassed at such a strong reaction to him.

He was smiling a knowing smile. She threaded both hands into his hair now, raising her face to kiss him. Her own scent and taste were on his face, his beard, his lips. “My God, Ben Wade,” she whispered. “What did you just do to me?”

She could feel his cock pressing into her belly, rock hard, and surprisingly, she knew that she still wanted it inside her. But maybe he wanted something else? “Do you-” she struggled to form the words, one hand reaching down to grasp him, squeeze him gently. “Do you want me to do that for you, too?”

Her other hand reached up to stroke her fingers over his lips. “I- I’ve never done that before, but I’m sure you can guide me.”

He didn’t have the patience for it, not now. He had to be inside her, he had to fuck. It wasn’t in him to be rough with women, but Wade’s need was so great he might have been…a little hasty. Cursing under his breath, he leaned over the side of the bed and fumbled for his billfold. Tucked inside was a French letter…they called them condoms these days…and a friend had warned him never to “go in” without one. Said there were too many diseases these days that could ruin or even kill a man, that even nice girls had

them. Lian didn’t seem the type, but he was still going to take the warning.

She wanted to tell him that he didn’t need that. That there was no way he was going to get anything from her. But then, it occurred to her for the first time that she might need it. That she really didn’t know Ben Wade. Except that she felt as though she did, and she couldn’t see him being careless about anything, especially this.

He tore the packet open with his teeth, stroked the condom on until the fit was to his liking. And then in one fluid motion he was over her, his knees spreading her thighs wide, his latex-covered cock bobbed like a divining rod. Wade took it in hand, slicked the tip up and down her very wet sex, all the time watching her eyes, her face. At his first touch, her eyes grew wide and her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip.

That first stroke against her wetness almost took her breath. She was still sensitive and he was so hard. She gasped and bit her lip, as she kept her eyes on his.

“You want what I got for you, Lian? You want me?”

She nodded, staring up at him.

“Say it, darlin’,” he crooned low. “Tell me you want me. Say my name…”

And as soon as she whispered “I want you, Ben,” he fed her his cock. Hard, thick, long, it slid inside her and fit snug, just like the Hand of God had fit into his rig. He was dying to stroke, but he gave her a moment to get used to him. And when he felt her body accept him, he raised himself up on muscular arms and began to fuck her.

His first thrust was painful. Liana bit down harder on her lip, almost bringing blood. But then he stopped, holding himself still, allowing her body to adjust to him. And when he started to move again, the pain was gone.

This was a rhythm, a dance, she realized. A very sweet dance, she thought to herself, as his hips moved against hers. A dance between two people who had just met. Their needs, their desire was the music. And the music was perfect. But the dancers were a bit awkward--neither accustomed to the other’s movements just yet.

But the dance became smoother as the music progressed, as they moved closer to the climax. There was no doubt that Wade was leading. And he was a superb dancer. His movements were as deep and smooth as his voice. Within a moment, her body was responding to his rhythm as though they had been dancing together forever.

That pain was long forgotten, as Liana succumbed to her wish to explore. She ran her hands up his powerful, muscular arms, feeling them alternately tighten and relax with the rhythm of his body. She gripped them tighter at times--when the pleasure rising within her caused her body to spasm. She ran her palms over his chest and shoulders, feeling an occasional scar, enjoying the sensual pleasures of discovery.

And, all the while, their eyes were locked together. He was watching her, looking for something. Her pleasure, a particular reaction? She wasn’t sure. And she was watching his eyes for… For what? Somewhere within the flood of sensations which had taken her over, she realized that she was looking for emotion. For some sign from him that this meant more than just fucking.

Somewhere inside, she knew she wouldn't see that. They didn't know each other, for God's sake. How could there possibly be any emotion between them? Anything other than lust and passion and this incredible need to satisfy their bodies.

His thrusts were becoming deeper, more powerful. Following some instinct, Liana raised her legs, wrapped them around his hips. She moved her hands to the back of his neck, holding on tightly.

Feeling another of those totally overwhelming climaxes rapidly approaching, she raised her head and pressed her lips against his, this time allowing her cries and moans to be absorbed by his mouth.

Wade loved the feel of her legs wrapped around him, just the way he'd imagined them earlier in the car. Her hands running over his body, up and down his chest and arms caused his body to tighten, readying itself for the explosion that he could feel coming on.

His strokes became harder, faster. He could feel her body squeezing him, and then she was coming for him again, kissing him so hard as she did that he found it difficult to breathe. And in the tangle of her arms and legs-- the incredible feel of her tightening all around him--his own orgasm took him.

He'd known it would be sweet. And it was. Her lithe, firm body under his hands, feeling it tighten around him, was all he needed. He poured all of himself into that moment and his coming seemed to go on forever.

Even the coming down was sweet, he thought to himself as he sank down, his body covering hers. Wade had dropped his head into the hollow of her shoulder, listened to her sighing breaths, felt her hands tangled in his hair. He'd been right. Miss Liana had surprised him in other ways.

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