You Feel Like a Dream (18+)

Oui..Oui..Oui..

After my fourth gushing orgasm. The illuminating fluidity of my sweet nectar covering his gorgeously deliciously plump upper lip and even more plumper bottom lip. Flowing down into his grown-out beard slightly grey. My legs wrapped around the back of him and the plush white velvet armchair. As if he were sitting on the Iron Throne, my head was heading down towards the floor. My back is lying on his lower body, and my glistening dripping cunt is still close to his face, quite a precarious position we are in. He inhales deeply as his slides his hot thick creme covered tongue on my left upper thigh and then kissing it softly and frequently with his lips. He does the same to the other side, as he slowly glides to my right side, I can smell him, his scent. He wasn't wearing any cologne. It was his natural scent. He then had me at the point even more so, taking him all in made me limp and even weaker.

"Aye fuck baby, I fucking mmmm... love... your taste." With sloppy moist slurping sounds, he says, pressing his mouth into the lips of my already sopping wet cunt. " Finally, this is all mine!" He says, flipping his head back, licking his lips. He places his arms underneath me, cradling my neck and my head, in his strong hand. " I surmise you are here alone because you are alone. I had some people to some checking that you weren't with anyone." I gather the strength to pull up my body and my legs to be able to face him, eye to eye. " Holy shit, are spying on me?"

  I quipped at him. He smiled a smile that men do when they think they are right but know they aren't. His eyebrow raised, and confidently he answered. " Bloody fucking yes I am, I wasn't going to walk in here and see you with another man, or the men you were with. I'm not bloody fucking sharing you, Harlow, I told you that already. Also, I wanted to make sure you were safe." At this point, I am a little drunk. I was hoping the coffee would settle that. But to my dismay, it didn't. I flipped up off the chair and stood there with ripped stockings and a couture gown to my ankles, the slit of my lace stocking on the thigh was peeking through. He lifted his hand in a tight fist up to his fat lips and let out a Mmmmm and a sigh.
" FUCKING ehell, you are so gorgeous," he says in that sexy raspy accent that sent waves of heat throughout my body. " I appreciate you looking after me, but I am not comfortable with the fact that we hadn't had any contact in several months, yet you had people watching me? Where they are watching me at home too." I clamor at him. "Yes," with that one word, he responds. "Fucking holy shit, I cried myself to sleep at night wondering if you were ever going to call me. Like some kind of high school drama, and you couldn't get in touch with me, but had people keeping an eye on me." " YES HARLOW, take the dress off, or I will rip it off for you," he firmly scolds me. I'm livid, but I didn't want to fight; I just wanted answers. "Why are you having people follow me?" I ask for more demurely. "Well, after I finally got your message, then I heard your men moved out, I lost contact with you, yes that was due to bloody fucking shitty service. I asked a friend too just keep an eye out to make sure, honestly, Harlow that I wasn't getting myself in some bloody fucked up relationship. I wanted to believe you wanted me and not them, call me jealous, call me possessive, that's all aye, bloody fucking fine with me. I fell in love with you; everything happened went so right. When you told me you had other lovers, how was I supposed to feel? I felt gutted. I wanted all firsts with you. I realize at our age, that isn't the case. But I'm not a cheater; I am a serial monogamist, I hate fucking dating. I fell instantly for you, the first bloody fucking time I saw you standing in a crowd of people. Standing out in a crowd of people to me as far as I am concerned, thinking back to it. I don't think I even looked at anyone else in the room but you. I couldn't find a fast enough way to get to you. When I saw you go outside to smoke, that was my in; when you smiled at me, there was something warm, familiar, it made me feel comfortable. A comfort I don't get with most women for that matter. Call me fuckin bloody crazy, baby. But I am, I am so fucking messed up over you that I was desperate to see you. I didn't think that when we lost touch it would have been for so long. I can't say getting caught up in Method acting is an excuse, I did try when I could get to the city to get a better connection, but you seemed turned off our last conversation. I felt it best as though it killed me to give you some time." " Oh well, isn't that so gentlemanly of you. If I didn't miss you so much, I would be more furious then I am, but I'm trying not to just flip the fuck out. I picked myself up off the floor and dragged my ass here. Barely cause I was so hurt. " "Harlow, I left you signs; I made sure someone from the hotel upgraded your room when I knew of your plans. That's why your other assistant was having difficulty getting you into this hotel because I had already taken care of getting you a stellar view." As he so cool, calm, and collected had this been a movie script presses a button to the drapes that open up to a lit-up Eiffel Tower. I gasped at both sites him and how magical it looked with him sitting there. " I had them put a bottle of my cologne in the room, and I made sure gardenias were also somewhere in here to remind you of me." " Well, it worked! But I don't understand." I stand there with my hands on my hips, and he is looking at me with a stare that my heart sped up. He stood up in his manly stance, his pressed pants, not a wrinkle on his crisp white shirt, with suspenders and wingtip shoes to boot.

Neither of us saying a word, just doing that intense stare that we do. He walks closer to me but slowly. He reaches his right hand to the nape of my neck, gliding his hand to the back of my head, fisting a clump of my hair. " Are you going to let me fucking make love to you, or are you going to give me your witty, sarcastic remarks?" He asks. " Oh, Tom, I dunno what all of this is making me feel." Not letting me finish my thought he with such fierce dominance, which I can't say, was something I had experienced with him. But I liked it! He takes his hand, holding my hair, bringing me closer to his face. Kissing me hard, kissing me so hard, he grabbed me before I lost my footing. I kissed him back just as he did, if not more. He moaned as our tongues met finally for what seemed like an eternity. He removes his hands from my hair, and wraps them underneath my backside, picks me up, and pushes me up against the wall. Bringing my hands up with his hands wrapped around my wrists.

  We make out like two teenagers, lustful kissing for the first time. Sloppy, wet, I couldn't get his tongue fast enough. He couldn't get to my lips hard enough. Sucking on my bottom lip while I intertwine doing the same to him. " FUCKIN EHHELLL I WANT YOU SO BAD hmmmmm..aye fuck I love you so much." His hands now lost in my hair, on my cheeks, on my jaw, grabbing my chin to get my attention. " Harlow, do you understand how fucking much I love you?" "Ohh, Tom,' my darling, I feel the same."

  With a swift slip of his hand down my zipper, my arms floated out of the noir lace like a glove. It was if the dress melted off my body. It slid down to the floor. Wearing nothing but my ripped stockings and noir silk and lace inlet. He stared at me for a few moments unbuttoning the rest of his buttons, sliding down his suspenders along with his pants. Argyle socks and shoes, all that was left was his black boxer briefs that so beautifully showed off his thickness. I stood in awe of this gorgeous man. He was bulked up from his latest character; he didn't need a six-pack on his stomach, his neck, his chest, and his arms were seemingly more significant; it was amazing the transformation. But as I stared at him, he smiled with his crooked teeth, my weakness. I just dropped to my knees in front of him, grabbing his bulging cock and let it form even more so in between my lips and into my mouth.