by November Tuesday

I come home and he is there in my house, slung low on the sofa, a latent predator, eyes heavy and relaxed in the darkness.

I flick the light switch and register his presence calmly, blinking. I set down my briefcase and rise to watch him.

"What are you doing here?" My voice is dry and strained. I walk to the bathroom and remove my earrings and watch. No answer. I sit on the bed and pull off my shoes. "I said what are you doing here!" Louder. Silence.

I turn, begin to walk back, but he is right there. In front of me like a wall. White shirt smooth and warm looking, though I don't touch him. I am aware of, somewhere in my body, my pulse quickening. Swallowing.

I stand taller, raise my eyes to his. I'm not asking anymore. I stand there and wait for him to explain himself. He is silent. I wait. Fucking ball's in his court. I stand and don't back down.

But I'm watching him, marvelling at the dark and lightness of his eyes, how intense they are, wondering idly what physical properties make them that way, what precisely about them is making my heart pound. I can wait all night if I have to.

But he doesn't back down either. He puts his hand to my face and I blink at the sudden flat warmth of his palm. After that I don't start though, even when his hand trails down my chin and neck, heavy like the blind grope of one who hasn't seen a human face before. His lips are slightly parted, and he is giving me everything, though he doesn't speak a word. Bliss screeches down, sweeps and coils warmly through my gut.

He rubs his thumb on my bottom lip, tracing its outline. I can feel the texture of his thumbprint. His hands fall to my shoulders and his fingers suddenly clench through the ends of my hair. I wince as my hair pulls and feel my heart beating still faster, I love it like this. I've never had it like this before him.

He watches me and sees something that makes him hiss, then his hands are on my shoulders and he is pushing me down to the bed.

I'm splayed, vertical, breathless. Vertigo spinning in my head, friction in its heart, spinning joy up through me.

He stands there, watching me from above. I am splayed below him, conscious of the buttons of my blouse and my knees which are bent off the bed and which slightly graze the cloth of his jeans. He is watching me, and I fight to keep my breathing normal. I narrow my eyes and watch him right back, taking in the long line of his leg, the curve of his ass, the shock of pale hair that hangs in his face. I can give, and I can take. My gaze slows and lingers on the bulge under his jeans, on the pressure mounting there far past comfortable equillibrium.

I then raise my eyes back up to him, yes, I've seen, I see you too and I'm more than ready for what you think you can dole out, boy.

We stare, caught in this deadlock, circling the ring.

He pounces on me, straddling my hips, towering above my head. He is so warm under his clothes. His hand shoves my face to the side and holds me there. I can see the wall, but not him. I can feel only his breath as he lowers his lips to my exposed ear. I hear just his breath. Then, his scratchy whisper. "What did you ask me?"

I swallow, pain in my face from where he is holding my jaw. I fight to meet his gaze out of the very corner of my eye. I force my voice out strong, despite the fact that my face is pinned down, say clearly "I asked you what you were doing here." Point for me.

He is almost imperceptibly circling his hips. Grinding the base of his cock against me. Am I imagining it? Is it just his breath? No, he is slowly humping. Just barely moving. I feel his breath come in and out, in and then out. I will not moan I will not moan I will not moan. Pleasure rises up through my chest and exits with a huffing breath.

"Should I leave?"

Oh no, you bastard, you evil motherfucker, don't you even pull this shit on me.

"I fucking dare you," I whisper slowly, grinning. Can feel sparks like flint in my eyes, careening around the inside of a powder keg. Would he dare leave, and leave us both so unsatisfied? He breathes out, once, twice.

Then his hands are on either side of my face and he is forcing me to stare up into his eyes. He is so rough, roughness that contrasts so with his androgynous features. It makes me tremble with desire.

Neither of us blinks. Neither of us looks away. We are steel and steel, and we temper each other. I fucking dare you. I repeat it again and again in my mind, a defense against him, against what he does to me.

I fucking dare you.

"Do you?" He asks, mocking me. Lips twisted into a cocky sneer. Nose pressed to mine.

I stick out my tongue and trace his lips. Up the full ridge of his lower lip, down the cupids bow, and down. One slow sweep of his entire full lower lip. I can feel the tremors all through his body. I can taste the slight salt of him and then I say. "Yeah, I fucking dare you."

His moan is like something torn. I take the chance to disrupt his balance and force him down to the bed. I am now on him, for it takes all of my weight to hold his strong body down.

I glare at him. "You better believe I dare you; you have the nerve to come in here and wait for me." My hand lowers slowly and flutters over his bulging crotch. He pushes up, instinctively, before he can censor himself. I claw each of my hands around a side of his shirt and pull. A vicious rip and the rain of buttons on the floor. His eyes are huge.

His breath is catching in his chest. His skin is warm and taut and like honey, his scent is everywhere. He is so warm in that plane of his chest, he is like a fever. I press my face to his chest and kiss a nipple, drag my teeth across it, When he arches up to me I spread my fingers through the sparse hair on his pecs, press down, and growl.

Calmly, I continue. "You don't come in here and scare the shit out of me without expecting to pay a price. You'd better hope you're able to give me what I want because I'm very hungry, and very demanding, and I'm not in the mood to be fucked with. Again I lower my face and flick my tongue across his other nipple. He moans, and when he presses his hips up to mine I bite down.

He cries out and I end that with the palm of my hand pressing against his mouth. I continue to kiss and lick, trailing up to his neck, up to his ear. He raises his hands again to my hair. I thread my fingers through his, and push down, pressing my full weight on him. "You think you're so bad, coming in here and waiting, don't you?" I whisper into his ear.

He tries to turn his head but I catch the tip of his earlobe between my teeth. He huffs out a desperate moan and the very sound makes me shudder with bliss and desire. "I don't know what you think you want but let me make it very clear, I want you to throw me down on this bed and fuck me sensless. I want you to fuck me until I'm wet like a fucking ocean, and screaming like a banshee, is that clear?"

He grins at me, defiant. He refuses to answer. I let his fingers go and get up and go into the bathroom. Lock the door. I remove my clothes, splash some cool water on my face. It is cool in here. I unlock the door and I pull it open, but it is being pushed from the other side. I thought his eyes were intense before but now they are like blue flame. His hand on my wrist actually hurts and I lose my footing and stumble as he pulls me toward the bedroom. My knee kits carpet and there is a warm flare of rug burn before I scramble to my knees and am thrown on the bed.

Now he is naked. He presses his face to mine as before, pulls back and looks into my eyes. Then he is kissing me, lips pressed hard against me, tongue on my lip, so rough, but he is naked, and I put my hand on his shoulder, tenderly, giving him that much, because his kisses are shooting me into ecstasy, and I moan.

He presses his palm and fingers flat against my cunt. Rubs back and forth. Inflaming me tremendously, but not satisfying in the slightest. He watches my face, collecting my expressions with a smile, enjoying my moan, the tremble of my body,

"Do you want me to make you come?" He whispers although we are the only two in the house.

I stare at him, his strong face, his eyes, his lush lips. "Yes."

"How much?"

"A lot."

"Do you want me to spread you apart?"

Oh. "Yes."

"Do you want me to spread you apart as far as I can?"

Mmm! "Yes!"

"Do you want me to lick you down?"

"Fuck yeah!"

"Flick all over your clit while my fingers pulse inside of you."

I dont even answer, but squirm and cry out. His mouth doesn't move but his eyes are content.

"And what about once I make you come? Once you squirt and quiver and come? Then what?"

I moan.

Whimper. Please...

"Suzanne." He says sharply. "Then what? What do you want me to do."

"Put your cock inside me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Just the tip."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Slowly, so slowly push into me." I am staring into his eyes, and this is uncharted and terrifying. Neither of us is looking away.

"Yeah?"

"And fuck back and forth. Slowly."

He moans low in his throat.

"And I will clench down on you, tight, the walls of my pussy tightening in a circle around your cock."

A louder moan.

"You know what?"

"What?"

"Right now I was going to go down on you but right now..." His hips push and his cock presses against my clit. "Right now, you know what?"

"What?" I can barely breathe.

"Right now its taking all of the willpower I have not to just throw your legs up over my shoulders and dive into you."

"Really?"

The flared part of his cock head is butting back and forth over my clit. I spread my legs into him and push up.

"Yeah."

"But you're going to go down and suck my clit, right?"

"Right."

He grabs my thighs and slams my cunt down onto his cock, while thrusting violently into me.

I cry out loudly, instantly falling into the motion of his crazed fucking. My head reels and lolls back and I'm keening and moaning and I mutter "it's all good." And I'm digging my nails into his back and I'm trying to crawl into his very skin and to pull him deeper inside me and my head is bouncing on the bed and my whole body is moving with the force of his fucking.

His moans are beautiful, high and low at once, building in a quick crescendo. I am manically arching up off of the bed and those sweet seconds approach when he is blindly moving against me, quickening, becoming loser and louder and coming close. I ride the crest with him, savoring the sounds he is making, pressing my hand in the sweat in the small of his back, wrapping my arms around him, enfolding and welcoming, snaking my legs around him and stroking his hair and whispering "come, baby, oh, yeah, I want to watch you come, fucking shoot your load inside me."

And his cries rise into a scream and it's there - that sacred, heightened quiver when a man is simultanously offering up all his vulnerability and taking his greatest pleasure.

After, we lie slicked in cold sweat, and he shakes, shudders several times, breathing, slowing. I hold him to my chest like a baby for long seconds, and then he takes my nipple in his mouth and begins to suck. His fingers graze the skin of my neck and I shudder, oh, god, no one is like this, never. "Oooh, touch me..." I exhale, squirming. He clamps his mouth into my nipple and scoots down. He slides out of me and wetness pours out of the head of his cock and my legs.

He is wiggling down, like a sidewinder, true to promise spreading me, pushing me apart to reveal the tight hard pearl of my clit.

He is lapping gentle like a kitten, spreading me firmly, exposing me, sucking my clit into his mouth.

Then, I am gone, I lose myself in the soft bath of his tongue, which becomes eventually indistinguishable from the pulse of his fingers deep inside me. I am utterly, completely beyond control and so far beyond it that I no longer even care. The world is now pure sensation, hot breath and undulating fingers, and I have no use for games of power.

He stops, and I hear him say "I can taste my come on you."

Hmmmm, I respond.

"I like it. It feels like my lips are on another man."

I cry sharply and press my hips up to him. He continues to speak, however. One hand inside me, fingers wiggling, one hand's finger making delicate circles over my clit.

"The first time I tasted my own come I liked it and that bothered me. Then I started to wonder what it would be like, to be with another man and a woman. You like that?"

"Yeah." I gasp.

"I wondered what it would be like to fuck a woman while a man licks my ass. I imagined me parting her, just as he parted me and slowly entered my tight ass with his hot cock..."

I make a high moaning sound, like a congealed letter m.

"...and he would fuck me, slowly, while my own cock trembled and rooted in her clenching cunt..."

"MmmmmmMMMMMM!"

He covers my clit with his lips and sucks it into his mouth in a quickening rhythm. His fingers are twisting around and pressing my G-spot.

That is it. He is sucking and pumping and pushing and my entire body seems to be this pulsing wet homogeniety, inflamed, sodden, with no purpose but to rise and rise and quicken and quicken don't stop don't stop don't stop!

I come screaming, yelling, and for the second time that night I dimly worry about the neighbors hearing, but that thought fades on the crest of the orgasm that pulses and seeps through me.

For long seconds I forget his existence. I just breathe and breathe and breathe.

When I open my eyes I see him, sweat sheening his forehead, and I smile lazily.

It's amazing how we can fight and both win.