181(M)Mattex

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                   Day #1: fingertips

imaginationandheartbreak (alexgrey)

Alex feels warm: sunbeams… focuses on the tiniest golden glow, just a sliver, sneaking underneath the scarf tied around her eyes… tight, soft, cotton, smelling of his cologne.

“Don’t move, Alex.”

Damn him… that voice… make me.

She writhes against the sheets and gently arches her back, moves to bring her hands to her nipples, to drive him crazy, but also just to show him. Below the tight knot of the scarf, curls tumble loose across her shoulders and she rubs her hair back and forth across the pillow. He likes that. And oh she feels him watching, warmer than morning light.

“no, no no…no touching, love, just me.” Only her legs are covered by the cotton bedsheet and Matt starts pulling it down so, so, slowly, forcing her need into an impossible rhythm. She’s breathing faster than he’s moving. Fuck.

“I said stay still.”

She moves her hands to her sides, open-palmed, and waits – naked, still, open, blindfolded - letting a small, open-mouthed pleading sound escape …she can’t quite manage perfect stillness… moving her head against the pillow once more, luxuriating in the play of light and, yes, hoping to glimpse him: “Want you, Matt…”

“Oh… and I’m not even touching you yet,” Matt whispers full of promise and awe. Then – and she can tell he’s smiling - “how did I get to be so lucky?…”

“Please…Matt…”

“Patience.”

“Hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Never.”

She feels him sit beside her. Close to her waist. She could reach out, stroke him, grab him, sit up and throw her arms around him and kiss him with everything. But she doesn’t do any of those things.

“You talk, I touch. You move, I stop. You stop talking, I stop. Simple, ok love?”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

The touch of Matt’s fingertips against her forehead is impossibly light, ghosting, his fingers gently tracing arcs along her temples, fluttering impossibly briefly over her covered eyelids, now tenting and circling her cheekbones, her chin, the fingertip of his index finger now mapping her lips, finally coming to rest on the tip of her tongue and she presses into it so lightly, but with the pinprick force of all her want and can’t help but open her legs just fractionally, to moan, and in the concentrated stillness can almost hear her own wetness. Matt’s other index finger comes to rest on her nipple.

“Tell me…”

“Need you to keep touching me.”

“Oh, you can do better than that…”

Fingers of one hand tracing her mouth and chin and moving almost reluctantly down to her neck, fingernail of the other hand scraping her nipple, then moving it in the tiniest and fastest circle, the way he plays with her clit sometimes, pulling an arch out of her and another moan, then what he wants:
“when you touch me…I need everything…your mouth, your mouth on my cunt..”

Fingertips of both hands fluttering across clavicles and ribs now…

“Alex… so gorgeous, Alex…”

“Your tongue on my clit and making me just beg for you.. god, Matt… the way you make me beg…”

“I’ll make you scream…”

“Please… god.. need your cock inside me, everywhere inside me…so much…”

“Not yet.”

Fingers lightly on her hips now, across her belly, the slight swell, fingertip on the ghost of the piercing that’s almost entirely closed over.

“Pierce it again for me.” Not a question.

“Yes… want to… Matt, fuck, I need…” It’s all she can do to stay still now and she wants to rock her hips and spread her legs and grab his cock and plunge her own fingers into her cunt because fuck what is taking him so fucking long and godhemakesherwant like no one has ever made her want…

“that’s better, baby… yes… much better…”

She didn’t know she was even making words but now she’s panting with the force of holding still:

“Make me beg, Matt.. make me beg… every day make me beg for you…” and she can’t help but rock her hips helplessly into the air…

“I will, oh fuck, I will Alex…”

Fingertips across her cunt then gone, hot breath against her clit – or maybe she was just imagining it - Matt’s hands tracing a new path along her legs to her ankles, fingers memorizing the bones of her feet. Then he’s shifting on the bed again, coming closer again, his right hand reaching underneath her now, bringing a single finger to rest at the entrance to her ass and she tilts up just a tiny bit in case he wants access, but he doesn’t move, just presses hard enough to let her know what’s she’s missing.

“Nothing you don’t get.”

“I know… should I make you come just like this? Cunt so empty?” He gently moves his hand from underneath her and all ten fingertips are back at her nipples, dancing across them with the precision of a locksmith, making her breath ragged. “MOVE.” It’s an order.

She doesn’t need to be asked twice. She keeps her back on the bed and spreads her legs and rocks her hips and arches, undulating, constant motion: “Please, Matt…”

Fingertips spreading her cunt lips now, reverently, three fingers circling firmly, games over – hot breath and open-mouthed kiss against her clit.

“My mouth or my cock, Alex.”

“Both… always both you idiot.”

“Blindfold off?”

“Please, no… “

He brings a talented tongue back to her cunt, lapping and circling and pulling her lips gently, finally sucking as she screams above him, sightlessness intensifying every small movement of his mouth.

She’s still panting as Matt scrambles toward her on the bed, hard cock brushing against her as he moves to untie the blindfold with a careful hand, and she grabs that hand and presses slow kisses to those fingertips and blinks her eyes against the light as he finally sinks into her:

“God, Alex… love you more…”

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