Free His Rules by Jack Gunthridge Page B

or growing fame and fortune.  It was when he would talk to me I started to really have feelings for him.  He listens to every single word that comes out of your mouth and makes you feel like it is the most important conversation he has ever had.  I have never been able to tell if his eyes are searching my soul, or if he is looking at my lips as if he wants them to be doing more at the moment than talking. 
    I don’t know when everything about him began to make me wish Kristen’s description of her first time with him was me kissing him with my left arm around his waist and my right hand on the back of his head pushing him in closer to me.  His hands are lifting up my dress and caressing my back side.  He’s pulling me in closer to him to where I am aware of growing desire through his jeans.
                  As we pause to catch our breath, he pulls my dress up over my head and tosses it aside.  With my skin bared, he goes in for my neck and works his way to my shoulders.  His kisses are soft and tender like a chef savoring the taste of one of the finest meals.  As I throw my head back in ecstasy from the wonderful touch of his lips, he undoes my bra with such ease as if this is not his first time, but he makes you feel special and not just another conquest.  When you are with him, he has no past and there was never any woman other than you.  This moment is about you and not him.
                  I don’t know what it was about the touch of his hands, but I let out a sigh which was a mini-orgasm in and of itself.  They gently slide down my back and rest around my waist.  They then stop, and I open my eyes to see his beautiful blue-grey eyes looking at me wanting some sort of response.
                  I pounce on him.  He tries to return the passion I am giving him by pulling me closer to him so that his forearms are on the upper part of my bare back.  I feel the hair of his arms on my back, and I know I’m with a man and not some man-scaping pretty boy.  A woman knows the difference in how to treat a man and a boy, so I slap his arms off of me.  With a stunned look on his face, I bite his bottom lip and tell him through clenched teeth, “You’re mine.”
                  As he goes willingly into submission, I kiss him as if he is a drink I cannot get my fill of.  I work my way down his neck and take in the smell of his aftershave.  As I get to his shirt, I forcibly pull the two sides apart until some of the buttons come out of the holes.
                  Our breathing has increased by this time.  He sits down on the bed and starts to undo his belt and pants as I take off my bra he had unfastened and throw it to wherever it might land.  As he continues to take off his shoes and pants, I scoot over behind him.  I run my fingers through his dark, black hair, pull him back towards me, and nibble on his ear.  My breasts are against his smooth back.  I can’t stop myself with just his ears and neck.  I kiss his shoulders and muscular back while my hands feel his pecks.
                  He has stripped down to his underwear.  I push him down on the bed.  I hold his arms down to let him know I’m in control.  As I’m holding them down, they are bent at the elbow so that he is really flexing.  Little tufts of armpit hair are sticking out.  I’m straddling him as I’m pinning him down.  This isn’t a contest of the wills.  Everything about his body screams that he could take me at any time and have his way with me.  He’s willingly letting me do with him as I please.  It makes it all the hotter knowing he trusts me and is holding his own desires in check.
                  I find myself licking the outline of his biceps before working my way to his pecks.  He’s a lean, muscular man.  He’s not bulked up like he spends the majority of his day at the gym.  His nipples…  His nipples are small and like a