The girl with the red hair - Sex Stories

The girl with the red hair

The dream was back. The girl in the red coat. The grungy market street. Pursuit. Only this time it was different. The marketers were inside, the rain keeping them away. She kept looking back at him. He almost lost her down an alleyway. Thunder rang out in the sky, and the flash of lightning revealed her form. She took that convoluted path to the inn, attempting to reach her room. He caught up to her on the stairs, gripping her arm. She stumbled back, bracing herself against the wall. His mouth crushed against hers and after a moment her eyes fluttered closed, opening her mouth to him. He took the opportunity, opening up all his senses, tasting her with his entire being. He pushed at her coat and she slid it off obligingly, keeping it in one hand. He pulled her legs around him, holding her up with her soft thighs around his waist, walking her up the stairs to her room. Locking the door behind them, he pressed her against it, devouring her neck with his starving kisses. She leaned her head back, allowing him to slide her mysteriously unbuttoned silk blouse off her shoulders. It fell to the growing pile of clothing on the floor. When they finally reached the bed and fell upon it, they had left behind everything but their pants and, in her case, a bra. He kneeled back and unbuttoned her pants, sliding them off. Her underwear was a scrap of lace barely big enough to hide her from his view. Seeing that lace stretched over her hips and concealing that sweetest part of her almost ...

... undid him. He pulled her up to kneel, legs spread, on his tense thighs. He rested his face between her breasts and reached behind to undo her bra. It fell away and her breasts were revealed to him. He took his time, teasing the skin, running his tongue lightly over the pink flesh of her nipples, nuzzling them as they hardened. Boldly, he put his mouth over her nipple and drew it into her mouth, suckling like a baby. Her hips rocked forward against him and he lost his breath. “Yes,” he grated against her raised nipple. He flattened his hand over her lower back and held her in place as he rubbed his erection against her. She dug her fingers into his shoulders. “Yes.” She panted. “Yes.” She was open for him, ready for him. “Please….” She rested her forehead against his, their lips brushing together, mingling their breath. “Please.” She panted against his temple. “What do you want me to do?” He demanded roughly against her tantalizingly bare shoulder, rubbing himself against the junction of her legs. “That. Again. Please…” Her words were disjointed, aching with need. His hands slid down her behind, sliding underneath her underwear to caress her in that most intimate place. She gasped, a light sound so heavy with meaning. He slid his fingers over her, back and forth, darting inside, withdrawing, bringing her heat to the surface. He pulled an arm up, around her waist, laying her down on the bed. He couldn’t help it, his mouth was on hers and his fingers pushed aside the bit of lace ...