🔞5EX: SUSTAINED OBLITERATION🔞

Yes Daddy!

Laura escorts Vinni from my house, defusing the situation for now, thankfully, and takes him to the hospital to be checked up. She will then take him to the police station to give a statement, and to get written documentation of his complaint. She tells me not to expect them back tonight, A&E will no doubt be full to bursting as usual so there'll be a long wait, and giving statements can take a while too.
It seems we have the house to ourselves!  On one hand I'm glad as we can speak freely without interruption, on the other I'm worried that we may not even talk at all! I cannot drag my mind out of the gutter!

As well as feeling as horny as an entire herd of Antelope, I have also started to feel a little tipsy, the 'Dutch courage' I drank earlier now causing a slight wonk on the world, my vision a little disturbed and every piece of furniture appears to be moving rhythmically from side to side.
I think I need a coffee, so collect up the plates and pizza box and head towards the kitchen and fill the kettle. Yanni follows with the glasses and empty bottles.
I show him where the recycling boxes are for the bottles, then he adds the glasses to the dishwasher I have just finished loading the plates into. He accepts my offer of coffee, seating himself at the breakfast bar behind me to watch me prepare our mugs. We remain silent, I am terrified to speak incase I expose my feelings with something I say, but I am also just as petrified to stay quiet as my mind invariably runs away with itself!

What is he thinking? Is he dangerous? He looks tired.
Did he kill Lola, or know who did?
I want his hands on my body!
Am I safe? Why had he hidden his brothers existence from me?
I wonder if his lips taste different in London!? What??
I think I need to sit down!
What do Noah, Ben and Harry know about all of this?
Did I ever meet Lola, maybe at an event while I was working?
Is it hot in here? Where are all my knives?
How does this all end?

A shocked gasp escapes me as I am unceremoniously roused from my pondering by long fingers gripping my hair and twisting it upward, biting into the delicate skin just below my left ear. I wince at the pain, a small whimper falling off my tongue, quickly evolving into a groan as his lips begin to execute a sensuously beautiful ballet dance down towards my shoulder. My knees buckle with the sensation but I am saved from falling to the ground when his arms tightly grip my waist, pressing his hips into mine. There is no doubt that his mind has been hanging out in the gutter along with mine, his hardness pressing firmly into my arse.  My pelvis is pinned against the worktop, his hands releasing my hair and slowly caressing their way down my arms, entwining his fingers in mine. With immense speed he pushes my hands apart, releasing the pressure on my hips and simultaneously leaning his upper body forward which allows my torso to lay flat, my left cheek cold on the marble worktop, boobs squashed uncomfortably onto the unyielding stone. The strong arms release my hands and move to the back of my head, my body immobile under his weight. He gently pushes my hair up, again exposing my neck then starts to kiss his way down my spine, his hands following behind before stopping at my bum, a cheek in each palm to steady me. My breaths are coming rapidly, and are too shallow, not oxygenating my blood adequately. Along with the Prosecco I drank, the almost zero food in my stomach for 2 days, a little touch of fear and absolute arousal my head is swimming.
I reach behind myself and briefly play with his hair as his lips continue their journey down my back. He moves out of reach and I become aware that he is now on his knees behind me, his fingers finding my waistband and pulling down my leggings. He growls an appreciative 'Mmmmmmm' and tells me I am beautiful before lifting my right leg from my trousers and pushing it up and outward until it is laying along the edge of the worktop, his hand placed at the back of my knee providing a prop to prevent it from slipping down to the floor. I am now incredibly exposed, a little embarrassed and VERY pleased I have just showered. I am also grateful that I'm pretty well groomed in the south as I've been spending so much time in the last 3 months in a swimsuit of some kind. I'm also as wet as a washcloth on 'washcloth washing Wednesday!'

"I want to kiss you, can I?" he mutters politely, but his tone suggests that he plans to do it anyway, permission or not.
As if I'm going to say no!!

"Yes, Oh god I want that!" I pant.

"Tell me how much" he rasps, his breath hot on my bare behind.

"So much!! I want that tongue on me, in me, tasting me, teasing me. I want to feel those beautiful fingers inside me ......please.... mmmmmm" I groan as he pushes a finger inside me and crooks it, pressing onto my front wall, my left leg trembling as he strokes my warm wetness before adding a second finger. I put my right hand over his, assisting with holding my leg up on the worktop, and Yanni is helping to support my weight by placing his hand on my bum.
The tip of his tongue makes the lightest of connections with the sensitive skin of my perineum and I lose control of my muscles, my knee giving way beneath me. Without Yannis support I would be on the floor right now.

"My my, a sensitive flower aren't you! Maybe you can't handle this? Perhaps we should stop?" he suggests huskily, slowly running his tongue along my fold.

"NO!! Oh god...... no, Please?"

"Ooh, you're really desperate aren't you ......... 'sweets'!" he chuckles at the nickname before continuing "I'm enjoying this needy Sydney, I like hearing you beg for me!" I would beg for him all day!
He sucks gently on my clitoris, increasing the speed and pressure of his fingers inside me, murmuring words that I can't hear clearly, the sound of my blood rushing through my head too loud.
My supporting leg is in danger of complete collapse, my muscles tense but also weakening with every stroke or lick and I am unable to form coherent speech, reduced to a gibbering wreck of need.
A delicious and long forgotten pressure builds inside me, I feel so swollen and I'm amazed to discover that I am actually aching for him! I need more..... I feel almost like I have the most exquisite itch, and like an itch you continue to scratch because it becomes less about taming that itch and more about continuing that feeling of pleasurable relief for as long as is possible. My body continues to respond to his touch, an intense heat building within me. He is playing me like an instrument, masterful and strong, a crescendo building within me
that peaks with the most euphoric sense of release. I'm unable to contain the throaty and breathy sounds escaping my mouth, the kitchen echoing with the aural confirmation of my orgasm, my thighs and Yannis fingers coated with the physical evidence of the same.
As I try to regain some control of my body and breathing I feel him stand up behind me, pressing his hardness into my behind while gently trailing his fingers up my back leaving tiny shocks in their wake. He places my right leg back on the ground but it does little to help me maintain my upright position, almost like my bones have been replaced with cooked spaghetti! Once his fingers reach my shoulders he leans over me, his chest flush against my back holding me in place on the worktop and gruffly whispers into my ear..... "What do you want Sydney? What do you need? I want you to tell me!" 

"I need you to fuck me Yanni, fill me up and make me come again! I want you to feel as good as I do right now. I need to suck your cock, to ride it and make you come! I want to....."

"Sydney!"

"Hmmm?"

Shut up!" he responds croakily while unbuckling his belt.