Trey Ch. 07

In case my husband happened to notice my new jewelry, I had constructed a brief, believable story about having discovered a new, online Celtic store where I had purchased my necklace. But as I had rather expected, he heeded neither me nor my medallion. I, however, couldn't keep my hands off it, stroking it constantly, sliding my finger along the sparkling silver chain, or rubbing the edge of the cross along the length of my lower lip. My thoughts were constantly centered around Trey, as my fingers constantly caressed the gift he had given me.

Somehow we had managed to get cleaned up that afternoon before my husband got home, with Trey even managing to make it look like he'd just walked in the door himself. Ever oblivious to his wife of 17 years, my husband headed straight back to his home office to boot up his personal computer and do who knew what. He never once questioned my wet hair, silver chain, or dreamy smile.

Feeling loved and desired even while fighting of the anguish of Trey's ever-looming departure, I turned on the kitchen radio and bumped and grinded my way through dinner preparations, hands easily mixing and tossing ingredients, wondering if Trey would realize with every bite that I had prepared this for him, that my fingers had added this touch or that, in hopes of pleasing his palate as well as I seemed to be pleasing his sexual appetite. Gasping a silent laugh, I raised my hands and rocked my hips, singing along with Madonna's offer to dress up her lover.

A startled squeal squeaked through my lips when I felt Trey's body press up against mine, his hands sliding over my waist, along my ribs and up my arms 'til he held them there, fingers folded over mine, dirty dancing me right there in my kitchen with my husband just down the hall. I moaned, loving the feel of him against me, before he spun me around and pulled me close, mouthing the words to the song against my lips as his hands skimmed along my quivering length. Unthinkingly I slid my hands around his neck, holding him close, gasping at the repeated brush of lip against lip.

The sound of my husband's step in the hall had us breaking apart, Trey to the sink where he reached for a glass, and me to the counter where I slid my hands back into the mix for the chicken coating. A quick smile at Trey turned into a horrified stare as I saw the clearly defined outline of my hands on Trey's satiny blue basketball shirt. In an instant I died a thousand deaths, but while my mind shrieked in fear, my body flew into action. As my husband stepped into the room, I stepped behind Trey and slapped at his back, before stepping forcefully onto the imaginary bug I'd just brushed off him and killed. Far from realizing the true nature of things between his best friend and I, my husband praised my quick action.

Dinner was a quiet affair that night, Trey and I both exhausted from our romp in the rain, as well as our sexy interlude with the champagne bottle when we got back home. We still tangled our legs under the table, but were able to keep our hands apart for once. After dinner we all went into the den to watch a movie, the three of us quiet and content. When the movie ended, Trey and I cleaned up while my husband headed down the hall. With a quick peck on his sexy lips, I whispered that if he was going to be for another twenty minutes, I'd meet him outside –then I headed down the hall to my bedroom, feigning interest in a book until my husband snored his way into oblivion.

Slipping soundlessly out of the bed, I slid into my trusty sweats and a t-shirt, tiptoed to the door and slipped through it without a sound. Closing it quietly, I paused outside the door to Trey's room, but there was no light or sound to indicate that he was still awake. Hoping against hope, I crept down the hallway and out the French balcony doors, closing them soundlessly behind me. Turning, I muffled a scream as I bounced off Trey's chest, his hands reaching up to grasp me as my knees buckled. Laughing at my own fright, I rested my head against his neck before taking his hand and leading him across the lawn and under the apple tree where I'd wiled away hours talking with him on the phone and obeying his every erotic command as we'd shared late-night sessions of phone sex.

With a quick kiss on his lips, my tongue tasting his ever so briefly, I explained that all those times he'd had me undress and finger my wet pussy to the sound of his deep, thrilling voice, this was where I'd done it—right here, under this tree, gazing up at the stars and wishing so badly that he were there with me, on me, in me. This, right here, was my spot – his spot – our spot. And right here, in the sweet green grass, under our tree and gazing up at the stars, I needed him to hold me, just hold me, so I could have this memory when time came for him to leave.

Wrapping those strong, safe arms around me, Trey informed me that even though we were both exhausted from our loving during the day, if we laid down in that spot and curled up together, we were sure to end up fucking yet again. Grasping my hips in his big hands, he ground against me, letting me feel his thickening cock, muttering that he was halfway ready already, that he couldn't seem to get enough of me.

I moaned in delighted response. Even as satiated and peaceful as I felt, my body still quickened at his touch, my heart still raced at the sound of his sexy voice. I refused to let my mind dwell on the fact that he was leaving, and instead focused on the fact that he was here, with me, close enough to touch, taste and kiss – and I was hellbent to do all three.

Taking his hand, I tugged him down to the grass with me. He sprawled out, pillowed his hand behind his head and curled me up into his arm, my head on his shoulder. My fingers idly traced the logo on his shirt while I listened to his heartbeat under my ear, more peacefully content than I could ever remember being.

-So this is it, huh, he murmured.

Startled by his soft whisper in the quiet night air, I jumped, making him laugh. Oh, how that sweet, sexy sound rolled over my skin, raising goosebumps along my arms.

-This is what, I gasped when I was finally able to breathe again.

-This is where you are when you do all those sexy things for me on the phone?

-Yeah, I blushed. Right here...with the stars up above and the crickets watching.

-Cool. He stroked my arm, one lazy finger sliding up and down, caressing me, holding me, loving me.

-Show me, he said, turning those molten chocolate eyes on me.

-Show you what, I stammered, beginning to get nervous.

-Show me how you do it – how you lay here, talking to me, doing all those sexy things we do. Show me what it looks like when you're pulling on your nipples, licking and sucking them, making me all hard and hot on the other end of the line. Let me see it.

I stared at him, torn between lust and fear. Yes, this man had seen me naked and done incredible things to my more-than-willing body – but now he was asking me to let him watch while I pleasured myself. This was a totally different thing. This was something very private, and while we'd even done "private" things in public very recently, this was personal.

I wanted to tell him no, and even opened my mouth to do just that – but he just slipped his fingers into my hair and cradled my head against him, and I was lost. There was nothing I could, or would, deny this man. Feeling my shoulders tense, he rubbed the nape of my neck, soothing me.

-I just want to picture this, in my mind, the next time we talk. I want to close my eyes, picture you here, see what you're doing in my mind as I'm listening to you cum. As I'm stroking me, I want to remember your fingers stroking you. One of these days I'll get you on video, but for now this will have to do. Please? For me?

At his quiet entreaty, any lingering discomfort I may have felt disappeared. This man had given me so much, both physically and emotionally – this was the least I could do to try to repay him. And honestly, the thought of him eventually taping me, and hopefully us, got me wet in an instant. I was coming to realize I had some latent exhibitionist streak heretofore undiscovered!

With a quick gulp of imaginary courage, I rolled into a sitting position and tugged my shirt off, the cool night air caressing my nipples into bullets of arousal. The neighbor's yard light lit my profile, and Trey's sharply indrawn breath made my heart race. Quickly I slipped out of my sweatpants, shivering as my naked flesh came in contact with the dew-laden grass.

I tried to roll back into Trey's arms, but he wouldn't let me hide like that. Gently pushing my shoulder, he leaned me back onto the grass, stroking his hand along my side, up and down, up and down, soothing me. Finally, when he realized my shivers of cold had turned to shivers of passion, he sat back, leaned against the tree, and motioned for me to start.

I balked. How was I supposed to do this? This, this most personal thing? I could feel my cheeks flush as I struggled to figure out a way to start this. Trey, ever in tune with my emotions, took care of me yet again.

-Don't fight it. Just close your eyes, imagine we're on the phone. Listen to my voice. Yeah, that's it, he murmured, watching as my back arched to his sexy, velvet-smooth voice. So, he continued the charade, what's my sexy little fuckslave wearing?

-Me, I whispered, getting into it, so well-practiced from our years of doing this, falling so easily into the smooth, rich sound of his voice. I'm not wearing anything, just as master commanded.

-Mmmm...perfect. How's the weather, pet?

-Soft breeze blowing across my nipples, stars illuminating me to anyone who cares to look...would you like them looking, master?

-Slave, the question is, would you like them looking?

-Yes, I whispered, raising my arms above my head, arching my back and spreading my legs slightly. I'd love them to watch what you do to me, but more than that I'd love them to watch you do me, I whimpered softly in frustration, the breeze blowing across me making me ache to touch myself. I knew better than to touch myself before being given permission however, and although sometimes I disobeyed Trey's commands just so he could find new and inventive ways to punish me, tonight was for his pleasure and I wanted to give him some sexy, sensuous memories of me to cherish when the nights were long and lonely.

Dropping down on his elbow, leaning over close enough that I could feel his breath across my neck, he whispered in my ear, that sexy murmur driving me insane.

-Rub your fingers over your skin, like I'd do if I was there. Yeah, that's it, he smiled, watching as my fingers slid over my throat, down the sides of my breasts, across my waist and along my flank.

-Use your nails, he whispered.

With a hiss of pleasure/pain, I scraped my nails along my own skin, realizing this must be what he felt when I dug those claws into his flesh in the throes of passion. Moaning at the thought, I scratched light furrows across my skin, leaving faint red trails over that smooth white flesh. I heard Trey's breath hiss through his teeth, which made me arch my back in pleasure. I spread my legs, lightly scoring the tender skin of my pale thighs. The moon and starlight glistened on the wetness so evident on my soft, smooth pussy, the lips already swollen and open in silent invitation.

-Mmmm, he murmured in approval. Sexxxy. Now slide those fingers over my wet little pussy.

I spread my legs further, raised my hips and reached one hand under me to spread my inner folds, exposing me completely to my lover's gaze while my questing fingers slid slowly up and down my weeping slit. I moaned at this torment, wanting so badly to stuff something up my pussy, but knowing that Trey was finding pleasure in my display, I bit my tongue and struggled to keep this at his pace.

-Good girl, he whispered, breaking out of role and stroking tendrils of hair back from my forehead. Slipping his hand down my cheek, he grazed his fingers over my neck, feeling the erratic thrum of my pulse beating there. Over my quivering stomach his fingers trailed, barely caressing me, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Twining his fingers with mine, he rubbed our hands up and down, up and down, knowing how often I'd begged him to do this during our phone sex sessions. Oh, how I craved his touch on me then, and as I had it now, it was even better than I could have imagined.

Slipping his hand from mine, he left a trail of juices along the curve of my hip as he lifted his fingers to his nose, sniffing them, taking me back in an instant to his revelation that the first night he'd touched me, there in the living room, feeling my juices coat his fingers when he made me come and then went to bed, his hand curled up by his nose so he could smell me still, imagining me there beside him, his cock hard and ready as it rubbed against the blankets while he fucked me in his dreams. My entire center went liquid at this thought, this vision, this suddenly crystal-clear knowledge.

And still my fingers rubbed my wet, aching slit, ever so slowly, tantalizing, tormenting, making me ache with longing even while I so willingly succumbed to the wordless commands of my black lover, this man who owned my heart, my body, my very soul.

Trey watched me, eyes glittering in anticipation of my impending orgasm. He so accurately gauged my reactions, knowing that this soft, slight touch was sure to make me howl with pleasure when he finally allowed me to cum.

-Pinch your nipple, he commanded.

With a sigh of frustration at the departure of my slippery fingers from my hungry pussy, I lifted dripping fingers to my soft, full breast. Tweaking the firm nubbin of flesh between thumb and forefinger, I lightly twisted and pulled, feeling the fullness of my breast bounce and jiggle in reaction to my manipulations. This bobbling made me moan, and twist and tug just a little bit harder, cycling through this process until my fingers had pinched my nipple to the point of pleasure/pain and I was roughly shaking it back and forth, gasping at the sensations this produced in my aching pussy.

My hips twisted and rocked in response to the sensations shooting through my breast. Letting go of the nipple, I grasped what I could of my silky white orb and smoothed it upward, offering my hardened nipple to the lips of my lover, hoping against hope that he would break role again, and ravage me with his tongue and teeth.

-Coat it with your juice, Trey commanded, smiling at me. Whimpering in frustration, I reached down, slipped my fingers into my hot, wet, churning pussy and scooped up a handful of my cream. Moaning at the feel of my fingers inside that hot, wet tunnel even for an instant, I shivered at the friction of pulling those fingers back out. Looking into his eyes, I watched him as he devoured the sight of my pouring my pussy juices over my breast, cream spilling off my fingers to engulf my nipple before sliding down the sides of my breast and over the skin of rib and chest.

-Rub it in, he demanded, his voice gravelly now.

My smile of triumph at his reaction changed to a muffled squeal of pleasure at the feel of my slippery fingers caressing that soft white skin and the hardened nubbin cresting it. My head thrashed on the ground as I pinched, pulled, tweaked and even smacked my own flesh, lost in pleasure at the fireworks threatening to explode inside of me, detonations setting off in my breast and quickly building in my thoroughly aroused, still-splayed pussy. I could feel those creamy juices gushing down over the fingers that still held me open to my lover's gaze.

-Mmmm, he moaned, stroking his visibly hard cock through his clothing, knowing how much that got to me. Now taste it.

With a gasp of pure animal lust, I hefted the weight of my breast, angled my head down, and flicked my tongue over that soft, slippery nipple before tucking it between my teeth and drawing it into the warm confines of my mouth. Eyes locked on Trey's I performed in person the act he had loved watching over the webcam, and his choked moan of approval make the awkwardness of my position a matter of little consequence.

With a shuddering sigh at this wanton display of his control over me, Trey leaned his head back against the rough bark of the tree, visibly struggling for control. This, as nothing else, touched me, made me long to make him completely lose that control, made me ache to pleasure him as he always pleasured me, made me determined to make him throb, ache, explode for me, as he had determined I would do for him.

Tipping his head, smiling at me, taking in the sight of my naked, star-glowing form reclining on the wet grass under the tree that had seen numerous displays of my wild passion for this wonderful man, legs spread, pussy spread, breast tethered to teeth. He moaned his approval, grinned his appreciation, and slowly rocked his hips in pantomime of what he intended to do to me later.

-Now rub the kitty, he demanded, relishing his hold on me.

With a gasp of gratitude, I released my nipple, slid my hand back down to my sloppy wet cunt, and in short order my hand sparkled with my juices as I slid one finger, then another, then another inside of me. Three fingers – he knew how I always liked to start with that, feeling just the slightest stretch around my digits, mentally and physically preparing for his much larger girth.

Head tossed back, I reclined under the tree, soaking in the feel of the wind, the dew, and the luscious feeling of my lover's eyes as he watched my finger my hungry, wet pussy, drawing closer and closer to the edge or orgasm with every stroke. His eyes seared a path along my skin as he watched my lips, open and parted, glistening where I licked them in abandon. He traced a path down my neck, where my pulse pounded visibly under my skin. Those melted-chocolate eyes burned a path over my breasts, visibly caressing those hard, upthrust nipples. He skimmed my stomach, my hips, my thighs, before coming to rest on my fingers buried so deep in that wet pussy, watching as they slid in and out, creamy wetness covering fingers, thighs, ass.

He moaned.

Determined to please him, falling under the spell of what my fingers and this situation were doing to me, I stroked harder, faster, deeper. My fingers began to wiggle, deep inside me, stroking those soft, silky walls, feeling that same tightness he must feel when inside of me. Tipping my head back, I watched, through narrowed eyes, as he watched me. Never had I felt so on-display, so exposed. Not even in the truck, with those strangers watching me and jerking off had I felt so sexy, so wicked, so excited.

I watched the emotions chase across his face, and relished my ability to excite this man. I watched as he reached in his clothing and stroked his cock, slower and slower, as he became more and more engrossed in what I was doing. The faster I fingered my pussy, the slower his hands slid along his long, dark length. I watched the motion under the slippery sheen of his shorts, and couldn't help but gasp and moan, fingers flying in and out of my splashing pussy now.

-Trey, Trey I gasped, back arching.

-C'mere, he growled, grasping my hips. Spinning me around, he pulled me to him, angling me so that my legs were spread on either side of his hips, draped over him, his legs cradling me. He pulled me up tight against him, so close that the backs of my fingers, sliding in and out of my squishy pussy, rubbed against him.

When I tried to turn my hand around and stroke him, he held my wrist.

-No. Keep going, he murmured hoarsely. Hearing that sexy voice so rough and low, I quivered, arching my back and pushing my pussy up against him, trapping my hand between his hard length and my wet hole.