“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m completely soaked,” Gwen laughs as they scurry into Arthur’s flat. They had gone out for a walk after dinner, but failed to check the weather forecast. They got caught in a surprise summer rainstorm and had to run home.
“Best get you out of those wet clothes, then,” Arthur teases. She runs down the hall ahead of him, out of his grasp. “Oh, no, you don’t…” he calls, following behind, not running, but taking long swift strides through the room and down the hall.
He finds her in the bathroom, toweling off her hair, laughing. He peels his wet shirt off and grabs a towel himself, rubbing his head and torso. Arthur goes to reach for her again, and again she slips through his grasp.
“Guinevere…” he warns, following her back to his room, where she is changing into his t-shirt. She sits on the bed, and he takes that as an invitation. Why did she bother putting that shirt on?
he wonders as he approaches, removing his wet shorts so he is just in his underwear.
He leans over to kiss her. She lets him, but she won’t let him lay her back onto the bed. She pushes back, and scoots away from him, further onto the bed.
“Sit,” she tells him. He puzzles at her, but sits.
“No, face the other way,” she says.
“Um, okay. What are you doing?”
Gwen reaches for a bottle of lotion she has brought and squirts some into her hands, rubbing them together to warm it. Reaching up, she massages Arthur’s shoulders, gently working his sore left one, being more aggressive with the uninjured side.
“Ohhhh…” Arthur moans, dropping his head forward and closing his eyes. His shoulders feel tingly. “What is that you’re putting on me?”
“It has peppermint oil in it. That’s what you feel,” she tells him. She is kneeling behind him, sliding her hands over his muscled back, fingers hitting spots he didn’t even realize needed attention.
“Oh I am so
marrying you,” he groans. She chuckles and kisses his ear. She moves her hand back over to his left shoulder.
“The bruising is looking much better,” she says. “Let me know if I hurt you.”
“I might. So don’t be brave for me.”
“Okay,” he says, humoring her. He closes his eyes again. She is amazing.
Gwen continues, occasionally treating Arthur to a kiss as she works. Here on his neck, there on his cheek, over here on his ear. Once she intentionally presses herself against his back, making him groan. He’s not going to just sit there much longer,
she thinks, not after how he’s been acting all day.
She leans her head down, places a wet kiss on his neck, then leaves the bed to go wash her hands. Arthur feels abandoned. She returns a moment later, and scoots back on to the bed behind him. He turns around and grabs her by the ankles, gently pulling her to the edge of the bed, easing himself off of it.
“Arthur, what are you…” she begins, but is cut off by the sensation of his hands running up her thighs, under her backside, pulling her closer. He leans over and kisses her, tongue delving into her mouth, and she responds immediately, meeting his seeking tongue with her own. His hands are still behind her rear, and he his pulling at her panties. She lifts herself to help him remove them, and he breaks away from her lips, leaving her breathless.
He yanks her to the edge of the bed. He kneels on the floor and drops his head between her legs, tongue darting out to stroke her. Gwen falls back, hands grasping at the bedcovers, head tossing from side to side.
“Arthur…” she gasps, and his hand slips up under her shirt to reach for a breast, his mouth already driving her mad as he runs his tongue along her moist folds, swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves there, swollen in its arousal. He runs his thumb across her nipple and thrusts his tongue deep into her, and she cries out. He smiles against her warmth, relishing his affect on her.
He pulls away for just a second, to catch his breath.
“Don’t stop,” Gwen pleads, arching her back.
All right, then,
he thinks, grinning, as he dives back in, very lightly grazing her most sensitive point with his teeth before pressing his tongue to her, slowly, gently, pushing her beyond all reason. His hand continues teasing her breasts, and, remembering how much she liked it before, he inserts a finger into her as he licks and kisses. Then two fingers. Gwen climaxes almost immediately after this, actually shouting, “Oh!” as she does so.
Arthur leans back, bites her inner thigh gently, kisses her knee, and stands. He watches her lay there like a contented cat, a lazy smile on her face, eyes closed. So beautiful,
he thinks. He crawls on to the bed next to her and pulls her to him. She snuggles into him, resting her hand on his chest.
“Have I told you today that I love you?” she asks him.
“No, I don’t think you have, actually,” he says, kissing the top of her head.
“I love you, Arthur.” She presses her palm to his chest, then runs it down to his stomach.
“And I love you, Guinevere.” He leans his head down as he lifts her chin to his face for a kiss. Her hand slides further down and burrows inside his underpants, grasping him. “Let me help you with that,” he says, yanking the pants down and casting them aside. “And this,” he grabs her t-shirt and pulls it over her head.
She leans over him, pressing him gently to the bed, kissing him deeply. She reaches back down for his erection, taking it in her hand, stroking him. He pulls his lips away from hers, groaning. That’s probably why she washed her hands,
he vaguely thinks, realizing the peppermint lotion could be quite painful if applied to certain areas. He actually laughs for a second at this, and Gwen stops and looks at him.
“Sorry, I just realized why you washed your hands,” he grins, and she chuckles, resuming her motion. She kisses her way down his chest, leaving a trail of liquid fire as she goes. Down, further, until she takes him in her mouth and he grunts, his entire body feeling like it is melting.
Gwen continues to pleasure him, using her mouth and her hand together in concert. Arthur’s body jerks slightly beneath her, and she runs her teeth ever so gently along the length of him. He groans again and reaches over, finding a breast to hold and toy with as she does incredibly delicious things to him with her mouth.
“Gwen…” he starts. She assumes he is just saying her name and continues.
“Guinevere,” he says again, placing his hand on her shoulder. She stops and looks at him.
“Come back up here,” he says, his voice labored, breathing rough.
She looks puzzled. “Is there something wrong?” she asks, worried.
“No, love, not at all. Come here,” he reaches for her and pulls her gently to him. “I just want this to last longer. And I want to… be inside you.” He whispers this into her hair, hand caressing her backside as she nestles against him.
“Oh,” she says, wondering at him. His hand roves around, stroking her rear, skimming across her skin up to her breast, where he starts to rub and tease a nipple.
Arthur leans down, claiming her lips with his again. He gives her nibbling kisses, sucking at her lower lip, teasing her tongue with the tip of his own until she can no longer think straight.
“Arthur…” she sighs, her hands roaming over his body, as if they aren’t sure where they want to land.
He turns, crawling on top of her, over her, surrounding her with himself.
“Your shoulder,” she reminds him.
“Is fine,” he tells her. She squints at him, not believing him. “I promise I will move if it hurts,” he says, then resumes his activity, kissing his way down her neck to her breasts, treating their now over-sensitized tips to the attentions of his lips and tongue. Gwen’s eyes drift close and she runs her fingers into his hair, holding his head.
She reaches down with one hand to find him again, to bring him to her. She wants him inside her. Needs him inside her. “Arthur, please,” she whispers, and his eyes fly to hers. That’s new,
he thinks, but his is only too happy to oblige. He repositions himself over her and lets her guide him into her warmth.
She feels so good,
he thinks, temporarily and conveniently forgetting that he has been here two other times today. He begins to move, slowly, torturing both of them, prolonging the sweet agony.
Gwen is ready to start begging, he is going so slowly. He glides forward again, and she manages to open her legs wider, allowing him to bury himself deeper as she winds her feet around his legs, pulling him toward her with her legs, holding him there, rooted deep within her, not moving. He drops down for another kiss, and she relaxes her legs, allowing him to move again.
He gradually starts to move faster, still driving into her as deep as he can with each thrust. Her breathing is ragged, labored, and he growls in the back of his throat in time with his movements.
Arthur takes her hands in his, twining his fingers with hers, pinning her to the mattress. He leans down and takes her earlobe in his mouth, nibbles it a bit, then kisses his way back to her lips.
Gwen can feel her climax coming on, and “more…” escapes from her lips without her even realizing it. Arthur hears it, however, and plows into her harder, faster, until she opens her mouth wide in a silent scream of ecstasy. The sight of her in her throes pushes him over the edge and he comes a moment later, his entire body shuddering, his feet twitching, the veins in his neck sticking out as he throws his head back and grunts.
He releases her hands and sinks down over her, rolling them to their sides so he doesn’t squash her.
“Oh, my God,” Gwen says after a few minutes. “What was that?”
“That was something.
That’s what that was,” Arthur replies. Gwen kisses him, spent and happy and exhausted.
Arthur reaches down and pulls the covers over them. He knows how tired he is, and imagines Gwen feels the same. Of course, she got a nap,
he thinks, but when he looks at her he can see she can barely keep her eyes open. He lifts his head and reaches over to turn on his alarm clock for Gwen and switch off the light.
Part 28: link