The Mansion

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She heard his soft hiss and eased the pressure of her nails in his arms. He may have grinned, but still. Yet again, another mental note scribbled but mental notes went by the wayside as he stripped away the small scrap covering she wore. His hands sliding slowly up her leg, as if he were imprinting her into his mind. She felt like a work of art being molded, smoothed over. The feel of his hands pressed against her stockings, moving, was one of the more sensual things she had felt.

Her sharp indrawn breath was the only sound that echoed in the room, other than their breathing, as she felt the pad of his finger brush against her.

“Noon…” her whisper was raw. His warmth breath against her thigh was torturous.
 
His mouth was wetting at the idea of licking her sweet pussy. He was eying it as a delicious dish as his face crept up her thighs, his hands now sliding higher, north of her thighs, as he leaned in tighter. His eyes were full of wicked intent as he breathed on her skin, letting her feel the warm air coming out of his mouth against her thighs, until it was pressing down against the exterior of her lovely pussy. His hands were up on her chest, now, cupping her breasts again as he rolled them in his palms, delighting in the feel of her hard nipples against his skin.

He'd just been about to lick her with his tongue when he heard her voice. It was raw, tortured, nearly spent, and it made him pause, in almost brattish fashion. He looked at her in response to her addressing him, and gave her a very insolent grin, looking up at her face.


"Yes CAit?" He chuckled softly at that, then lowered his mouth down to her abdomen, kissing the muscles of her lower tummy, his lips tracing against her, enjoying the smoothly trimmed figure of her as he looked up at her with those impish eyes.
 
He must have had her death in his mind from the moment he saw her at the party because he was killing her. Slowly. Drop by drop. Her hands came up to cover his, squeezing them. His warm breath on her skin. That was all for the moment. He had better, never, give her the upper hand or she was going to make him squirm as badly as he was making her do so tonight.

His lips on her lower abdomen made her muscles contract in pleasure. She moaned. And damned him again, silently this time. Her fingers curled around his wrists. That was all they did. By the heavens she needed something to hang on to and he was warm and solid.

“Are you out to kill me?” Her voice was somewhere between humor and a moan of passion.
 
He felt her hands cover his, either encouraging their attentions or admonishing them, he wasn't sure, but he didn't stop rolling her breasts around in his palms, finding them to be delightfully pliable and supple weights for his enjoyment. She moaned again for him, and then grabbed on, and he laughed softly, the laughed vibrating out through his lips and emerging a few a little puffs of warm on her. He looked up at her as she voiced her question, grinning, and then laughing once again.

"If I am killing you...certainly not a terrible way to go." He smiled as he moved his lips lower, slowly lower, his tongue diving out to trace against either hipe, then in between them, then diving down to the very insides of her thighs, feeling the sinews beneath her skin straining from the pleasurable teasing. Her legs were open an inviting to him, and he knew exactly where to go with the situation, but he took his damned time getting there. This was why he was such a damned rascal and irredeemable soul.

Finally, his mouth hovered over her aching pussy, and this time, this time, he finally plunged his lips down onto her, letting her rock up against his mouth as he held his lips close, sucking on her juices, sampling her as she rocked agains thim. He was letting her hips dictate to him exactly what she wanted it, how she wanted it, as he felt the intensity and the pace of her rocking against his mouth. And then he responded in kind, using his tongue, flicking it out, finding exactly where her clit was and tantalizing it with repeated infrequent application of his tongue and lips. He was an expert at this.

The only fair response, interesting, to driving her mad with teasing, was to drive her mad with pleasure.
 
“Gods no..” she managed to voice, her fingers tightening around his wrists. He was drawing her need into a tight wire. Her whole body was taut. Waiting. She knew exactly what he was doing and why. After all, she did it herself and now on the receiving end of it, she could do little but wait for it. Just when she thought she couldn’t wait another minute, his mouth descended.

She moved against him. Her hands flew down to his shoulders, clutching at them as her body bowed up against his mouth. A whimper. A whimper of sheer pleasure, of having her senses sent reeling out into the Cosmos somewhere. Her body pressed against his mouth, rocked against it. She couldn’t have stopped it if she wanted to. Every fiber he had spent fine tuning her, every muscle that had waited, poised and taut, now pushed her, hurtling her through space. He pushed her. Her body arched off the bed, held suspended for a moment then came back to the mattress, trembling, twitching…
 
He'd heard her pleading, but he ignored it, or at least, put his interpretation upon it as he continued his teasing, pushing her into a corner her body couldn't back out of it. When he finally did give her body what it needed, she whimpered, a tortured sound as she cried out in pleasure for him. he certainly didn't leave it there, though, not after having pushed her to that height. He sought to keep there there, keep her trapped in her near bodiless sense of floating pleasure, crying out. He used his lips and his tongue on her, feeling her hands pushing down on his shoulders, on his head, anything to gain leverage on him.

It was a moment trapped in time as she cried out for him, as her juices flooded his mouth and against his while he lapped them and continued to expertly manipulate her body. As if to drive the dagger home, he pulled a hand down from her breasts and then hooked two fingers, driving them into her perfect, delicious pussy as his lips closed around clit, essentially sucking her off while still giving her penetration. It was almost as though her body had clamped down for him like a vice, and he was as much as a prisoner of the moment as she was.
 
By the moon and stars, if she had thought the damage he had done to her was complete, she needed to think again. As if his lips and tongue hadn’t drove her enough, the advent of his fingers, being pushed inside her sent her higher, further and kept her there, in that seemingly endless orgasm. Her body pressed against his hand, his mouth, and tried to get away from it. Neatly manicured nails dug into his shoulders. It raged through her, wave after wave and he knew it too. Her muscles clamped around him, drug him deeper, held him prisoner as much as she. There wasn’t a coherent thought to be had. She was all feeling, sensitive nerves.

Finally, she could come down from that peak. Her body relaxed, her muscles released him, her fingers quit trying to gouge holes in his shoulders.


"Noon?" she barely managed to rasp out...
 
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He walked into the kitchen, still half asleep. Stretched his arms with a yawn, then removed the glasses for a moment to rub his eyes, put them back on, and started preparing tea straight away. He needed it.

Last night he had left the Outlook and arrived at the Mansion quite late. He had gone straight to bed, but hadn't slept peacefully. As a result, his neck, shoulders and back were also slightly stiff this morning.

Where was this C3PO butler dude that Cait had mentioned? He could have his tea, and maybe even breakfast, in bed! Right now, he was too tired to make breakfast.

After having some hot tea, while reading the local news, he climbed the stairs back to the bedroom to get ready for a new day, with new possibilities, new things to explore, and new fun to be had, if the RW didn't keep interrupting him all the time of course.
 
He walked into the kitchen, still half asleep. Stretched his arms with a yawn, then removed the glasses for a moment to rub his eyes, put them back on, and started preparing tea straight away. He needed it.

Last night he had left the Outlook and arrived at the Mansion quite late. He had gone straight to bed, but hadn't slept peacefully. As a result, his neck, shoulders and back were also slightly stiff this morning.

Where was this C3PO butler dude that Cait had mentioned? He could have his tea, and maybe even breakfast, in bed! Right now, he was too tired to make breakfast.

After having some hot tea, while reading the local news, he climbed the stairs back to the bedroom to get ready for a new day, with new possibilities, new things to explore, and new fun to be had, if the RW didn't keep interrupting him all the time of course.

Sir Thomas came around the corner quietly as the man went back upstairs. Bloody hell, the mistress went and got a new arrival. He supposed the new guest thought he was going to be waited on. He'll learn... oh how he'll learn. They all do.

With smirk firmly in place, he turned on his heel and headed to the back of the house, rolling his eyes heavenward as he saw the mistress' bedroom door was still firmly closed. He was beginning to wonder what had gotten into her.... well, he knew what had been in her of late, but that was not what he meant.
 
By the moon and stars, if she had thought the damage he had done to her was complete, she needed to think again. As if his lips and tongue hadn’t drove her enough, the advent of his fingers, being pushed inside her sent her higher, further and kept her there, in that seemingly endless orgasm. Her body pressed against his hand, his mouth, and tried to get away from it. Neatly manicured nails dug into his shoulders. It raged through her, wave after wave and he knew it too. Her muscles clamped around him, drug him deeper, held him prisoner as much as she. There wasn’t a coherent thought to be had. She was all feeling, sensitive nerves.

Finally, she could come down from that peak. Her body relaxed, her muscles released him, her fingers quit trying to gouge holes in his shoulders.


"Noon?" she barely managed to rasp out...

She had, if not broken his skin, at least come very close with her nails digging into his shoulders, her body tensing up against his. He had trappbed her body in the moment as long as he could, her muscles tensing up with remarkable, desperate strength. She was such a finely sculpted figure, and perfectly accommodating for his body as she had writhed and screamed. He had to inhale deeply when she released him, finally, his ability to breath having been compromised as her pussy and thighs had trapped him, slaved his tongue to its purpose.

He heard her his out his name as she released him, and he looked up at her, wickedly, still nursing his aching erection.
"Yes, Cait?" He grinned and kissed along her stomach, licking at her navel, and traveling up her body, his eyes locked on hers. Oh, there was much more to be done here. His hands held her thighs, cupping them, tugging them apart slightly in readiness as he continued to trail up her magnificent body.
 
He returned to the guest bedroom and after brushing his teeth, he dropped the boxers on the doorstep of the bathroom, stepped out of them, and stepped into the shower. Turning the knob, he let the hot water run down and soak his body and his hair, before grabbing the lavender scented soap in a tiny circular hole in the wall of the shower stall. He lathered his entire body, staring from the neck down to his waist, rubbing it over his chest and back, and then applied the foam over his face, closing his eyes. After a thorough rinsing, when his eyes opened, he picked up the soap from the floor, after it accidentally slipped out of his hand, and started sliding it below his waist, between his thighs, over the cheeks of his bum...all the way down to his feet...after all the residue was washed away, he just stood there under the water for a few minutes...

Stepping out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, he walked towards the closet, opened it and pondered as to what he should wear today.

Earlier, when he climbed the stairs and closed the bedroom door behind him, he thought he heard someone downstairs...a weird noise. But it might just have been his imagination. Stranger things had happened in this house.
 
She watched him slowly make his way up her body with lips and tongue and lazily, her voice laden with slumbering desire, she replied.

“If you fuck with your cock as well as you fuck with your tongue, I may have to concede I’m in a bit of trouble here.” But she said it with a glint of teasing humor in her eyes.

For even with all he had already drawn from her, there was still more inside her. From the look in his eyes, she could tell he knew it too. This, between them, had been long in the making, there wasn’t going to be anything quick about it. Who had what debts to settle? She’d lay claim to the fact they both did.

Her hands traveled from his shoulders meandering without hurry to his neck and as he rose over her, she settled her fingers in his hair on either side of his head.
 
He took his time crawling up her body, stopping to kiss and lick and nibble here and there. He'd learned a few of her spots the previous night-basically anywhere ticklish was a good starting point. He chuckled at her as she spoke to him, nodding his agreement as he flicked his tongue across her nipple.

"I think we're both in serious trouble, sexy." He crawled up until he loomed over her, his palms now resting flat on either side of her shoulders as he looked down into her eyes, and then he leaned down to kiss her. Her juices were still fresh against his lips, still in his mouth, and he let her taste herself in his kiss, as he let her know how hungry his body still was. This point was expounded when he pressed his hard cock against her crotch, letting her the firmness and the radiating of it pressed right between her legs, his cockhead already fairly soaked with his precum.

"More trouble than I can hope to heap upon in just one sitting." He chuckled again as he pulled out of the kiss and then looked down into her eyes, letting her see the smoldering need there. HE began to rock his hips teasingly, dragging their sexes against each other with letting his cock slide in...in essence teasing them both as he stared into her eyes.
 
For every tickle spot he touched, her body twitched. He loomed over her and she allowed her hands to slide from his hair, drifting over his shoulders, across the plane of his chest, exploring contour and definition of muscle and sinew, enjoying the feel of him under her hands as they leisurely explored him and settled on his hips.

“Then I suppose,” she murmured huskily as she stared up into his eyes, “you’ll just have to find your back here another time, hm?”

She drew in an extended breath on a soft hiss as she felt his cock head press against her still wet folds. He was doing it again. Teasing her. Damnation all over again, but how sweet it was.

“Damn you, Noon. Take me. Quit teasing us both. Haven’t we waited long enough for this?” There was a soft growl in her voice.
 
He only smirked at her as growled at him, not responding at first, not heeding her wishes, only staring intensely into her eyes, full of desire, and need, and want. He could taste her breath against his as he studied her face, and licked his lips as he let his eyes trail down her body, to where she was still wearing her garters and heels from the night before-albeit, somewhat more disheveled after their vigorous activity already. Finally, he looked back into her face, still smirking.

"But the waiting makes it all the sweeter, doesn't it?" He leaned down and kissed her again, and then he pulled back, straightening up. He went to his knees, and then grabbed her legs, hooking them up over his shoulders, her ankles crossing behind her his head as he looked down at her. He was able to displace her weight, to pull her around, very easily-the desperate hunger of his passion making him even stronger than usual. He lifted her hips up, and held her perched against his cock as he threatened to slam down into.

"You want to be take, then you shall be taken." He then grabbed her hips and pulled her up onto his cock, impaling her in one stroke. He cried out at the feel of finally plunging into her thighs, plying them as he'd imagined many times before. Then he was rocking on her, and it was very animal, very raw, a sheer mechanical thrusting that carried him away, not even realizing the violence of his hips pounding down into hers.
 
Oh the teasing wretch but she would give him this, even while teasing the living hell out of her, he kept his own needs at bay. She saw them. He didn’t try to hide them from her at all. He invoked her passions, her desires, because he made her feel desirable with letting her know just what exactly she fired in him. She couldn’t find one fault in him as a lover.

Never knowing what to expect from him, it didn’t surprise her in the least to find her heels hooked over his shoulders. There was something extremely erotic about having sex with a man and still wearing stockings and heels. Those heels were going to have to go soon, however.

Her body tensed, hearing his last words, in anticipation. One swift hard stroke and he filled her completely, all at once. His ministrations before making it easier, more comfortable for his taking. Her slickened tunnel crowed around his hardness, as her hips meet his thrust for thrust.
 
He wasn't gentle. He didn't even try at all to pretend like gentle was what he wanted. What he wanted was to fuck the living daylights out of both of them until they collapsed into a messy pile. He was doing a fair job of it so far. He rammed into her repeatedly, feeling her hips thrusting back with his, matching each of his strokes, their bodies colliding into each other violently. It was a loud slapping sound that filled the room along with his growls and cries and gasps. He threw his head back, losing himself in the heat, the pleasure, the entire fucking sensation of finally getting his dick inside of her, and his body operated by feel, thrusting into her.

He was still holding her hips up off the surface off the bed, and with the way she was grinding her hips up against his, her own muscles working in unison, her entire delicious body dedicated to this moment, he let go with one hand. He held on tightly with the other, using it as a life preserver in the swirling maelstrom of passion, and with his other hand, he reached underneath and then slapped her ass, firmly, letting it ring out. And then he made it a part of the motions, his hand slapping her ass following the backstroke, and then his cock slamming into her, and then pulling out, before smacking her ass again.

It was a shame he had only two hands to use on her body. He moaned, feeling his cock twitching inside of her hungrily as the bedsprings creaked in protest at the violent treatment they were receiving. He'd kept his passions restrained until now, and they were being unleashed, violently.
 
She didn’t want gentle. She wasn’t in the mood for gentle. When she needed gentle, a man knew it. There was something in her demeanor that was hard not to see or know. There was a time and place for everything and this wasn’t one of those moments.

She ground her ass back against him every time he slammed forward. She could feel him against the walls of her inner core. Bruised. By the time they were done fucking, she was going to be bruised inside and more than likely sore elsewhere, considering the slaps her ass was taking. Oh, he’d pay for that next time too. Not with slaps on the ass, no, she was far more devious than that. Still, she could not deny they served their purpose. The heat on her ass cheeks, the sting his spanking created, melded with his cock thrusting greedily into her depths, they were all the right combination she needed right now.

She watched him through half closed eyes, watched the various depths of emotions play out across his face as she drove him, as he drove them both to some tighter, taut place that would end in a violent, shuddering, satisfied way.
 
He was lost. Totally, utterly lost. If this were a crisis, he wouldn't be able to clearly say exactly where they were, whose bed this was, even where the fucking door was in case he needed to get out in event of a fire. He was lost utterly in the moment, in the bliss of his partner and her sweet body, her tight pussy clamping down on his cock in each thrust, and the overwhelming smell of nasty sex. The room was filled with a cacophony of sounds that surely were ringing out throughout the Mansion.

It was perfect-he wanted to get lost in it, but he couldn't last forever, his body needed something, needed more, and the strain of continuing was in danger of slowing him down. He felt his balls tightening up, his cock twitching and throbbing, and he knew was close, very close now. A part of him rebelled at that, didn't want it to end, didn't want to stop fucking her into oblivion, but the greater part of was eagerly and inevitably pushing his body toward the edge. He pounded into her harder and harder, his cock throbbing, and warmth washing all over his skin.

Finally he tilted his head down, looked right at Cait's face, and smiled as he looked into her eyes, grinning wickedly. And just then, he came, violently erupting inside of her.
"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHHHHH!" A great wordless cry from his lips as he pounded into her, his cock spewing deep into her, his body ramping up into overdrive as pumped her full of his cum, shooting it into her, waves of it.

"YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YESS!" He kept crying out, letting his passion carry him away.
 
Her green eyes were lit with the fires of desire, passion, stoked by the man who was driving into her body from above. Her hands strained to retain their grip on his hips as the latter became a frenzied, driving force within her.

They both were close. She could feel it in the tightening of her skin, subtle but there. Se could feel it in the planes of his body, feel it in the way he moved.

As their eyes met and held, something again, wickedly erotic about watching the lust grow and desire explode in each other, her own orgasm slammed into her, hot on the heels of his own. It was like that for her, sometimes. The start of her lover’s orgasm, tripping her own, perhaps her third or her fourth, whatever the case maybe.

Her body greedily rippled and milked his own, tugging on him, striving to keep him buried into the inferno he had so diligently built in her. She felt him, deep inside her, felt the heat of him coat those greedy walls that refused to leave him in peace.

Her body arched as fine as any bow that was ever made as she let the orgasm take her wherever it would. It was all she could do to simply hang on for the ride.
 
Her walls were holding his cock in place, squeezing him, almost sucking at him as they sought to keep the pressure lasting as long as possible. She had an especially greedy pussy, and it seemed to drag even more out of him, his body arching down into hers as she bent up toward him. The desperation of intense orgasm was unlike anything else in the world, trapping them within.

finally, he felt himself growing spent, his cock empty even though it was still twitching. He felt an enormous tiredness sinking into place as he slipped out of her, gasping for air. A messy, nasty mix of fluids followed his cock as he slid it out of her hole. He teetered for a second, and then fell down on the bed, next to her, his muscles still taut, tired, and his body still gasping for air. He felt colder, suddenly, having lost the heat of his passion, and he grabbed at her, almost feebly, pulling her up against him to share her body warmth in the afterglow.
 
All good things must come to an end. So she had heard and read somewhere. One couldn’t keep the sands in an hourglass from falling. Her body fell back to the bed. She was softly gasping, seeking to feed her starving lungs with air. Her eyes closed as she felt him withdraw from her body. She couldn’t move. She had no energy left to do so with. Even as he collapsed beside her, she couldn’t bring herself to move. She simply lay there, one hand limply resting across the flat of her stomach.

His hands grabbed at her, hauling her up close to his body. Instinctively, her own turned, curling against his side. Her head lay in the crook of his shoulder, her breath warmly flowing over his skin as her arm lay across his stomach.

Damn.
 
Noon was enjoying the sweet obliviion of the moment, of haaving no thoughts, no energy. He was fucking mess, so was she. It was right.

After several moments, he accrued the energy the turn down and kiss her lips softly.


Mmmm. He smiled. It was all that needed to be said. He studied her, still caught in the afterglow, and added one more thing.

"You need to invite me to the Mansion more often." Grinning wickedly again. "I've noticed a few....interesting items that have been delivered to your cellar." He chuckled, and with that though, he curled up against her once more.
 
She upturned her face, her lips taking his kiss and giving her own. She managed a weak smile.

"You've been peeking in my cellar room, Rogue?" She chuckled faintly, "Anything specific catch your eye?"

Her fingertips idly brushed against his chest.
 
He chuckled softly. "I do occasionally peek where I shouldn't."

He cuddled with her sleepily, and sighed. "You'll find out if you ever invite me down there." He grinned at her mysteriously and then, yawned as he drifted off in a spent sleep.
 
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