Pushing the Limit

Peter joined me in the kitchen, and his presence made me question reality yet again. He looked as nervous as I was. I could see the way his every breath shuddered as he maintained his composure, stepping into the kitchen and tugging open the fridge. He wasn't looking at me. Maybe that was easier for him. I grinned to myself, hoping it was for the reasons I hoped it was.

"Uh... can I get you anything to drink?" Peter said, perusing his fridge. "I've got the hard stuff in the wine cabinet as well if y-you need to take the edge off."

I eyed him while he moved about the kitchen.

"No, thank you, Pete," I said. I did my best to keep my voice airy and smooth. "Maybe later on."

Peter looked at me. I saw the way his gaze dipped. I shifted my thigh, letting my legs rub one another, but I forced myself to stare right back at him. While I kept up my calm and collected facade, I fell deeper into my own illusion and allowed myself to admire him. His salt and pepper hair was messy and somehow better for it. Peter was as toned as ever, even for his age, and today he was dressed casually in a tight fitting tee and shorts. He was more handsome than I could ever hope to be, and dressed as I was, I was really starting to appreciate that.

A part of me ached, wishing that I could be half the man I saw.

"Kathy get called in?" I asked, still rubbing my thighs together ever so slightly.

Peter's eyes fell again but shifted away as he answered.

"Y-yeah," he replied. "She's been trying to take more shifts at the hospital. Every little bit helps."

Peter walked a bit closer as he talked. It was as if he carried an invisible force field of energy around him, and I braced for the proximity. My eyes fell to his shoulders, and the hunk of flesh that swelled there beside his neck, where he rubbed his hand deep into his flesh.

"Andrea just graduated middle school this year, so her first car is right around the corner," Peter went on. "I tried to tell Kathy that Andrea should get a job in a few years and learn to pay her own expenses starting out, but that's not the way of the world now."

I moved off of the island and stepped close to Peter. Something in me still made my heart skip several beats, but Peter's body language gave me courage. His breathing was unsteady. The closer I came, I could feel the tension building in his body, even from a foot away. It was so empowering. I felt so hot.

"She doesn't listen to you, does she?" I cooed.

It was as if the girl in the reflection had taken over and controlled my every action.

Peter blinked at me and licked his lips. "Andrea?"

Our hips came close, and I eased my fingers around his waist.

"Kathy," I said.

Peter chuckled. It was a pitiful, nervous sound.

"Kathy's never listened to me," he said. Peter's eyes were fixed on my lips when he spoke again. "I think the only one that really listens to me is you."

I offered a little nod, slipping my hands around the small of his back and pulling in closer.

"I'll do whatever you tell me," I said.

I couldn't believe the words that left my own mouth. It was as forward as I had ever been with Peter. I truly meant them, but it was as though the words came from a dark secret place within me. Our faces were close. I waited for any kind of advance or action. If it ever came, I knew I'd just melt.

Peter blinked and stepped away.

"Um, yeah," he said. "Would you like to sit down?"

Peter motioned toward the couch in the living room. I saw the tremble in his hand as he waved me on. With his other hand, he was rubbing at one of his traps, with his head cocked to one side.

"I mean... make yourself at home," Peter said. "We can hang out for a bit... if you'd like."

I narrowed my eyes at him, teasing him with just a gaze, but stepped into the living room. As I passed, I mustered up the courage to make another move. I gently took Peter by the hand and led him toward the sofa, stepping slowly but deliberately. I guided him to sit first, pressing my fingers into his chest. Peter played along, sinking down onto one of the giant couch cushions behind him.

I was staring down past the breasts in my shirt, while Peter gazed up at me from below them. More than once, his eyes darted across them, which lifted my heart into my throat on fluttering wings. I crossed my arms just beneath my chest, allowing my faux tits to rest on my forearms. I eased my hip to one side and bent one knee, slipping into a girly pose that offered Peter a glance at my smooth bare thigh.

No matter how hard he tried, Peter couldn't keep his eyes from traveling down my body. I lifted a hand, twirling one of my curls in my fingertips. I felt alive and powerful. I only hoped it would all be good enough.

"Well," I said, "we usually don't hang out for a bit, Pete. And you usually don't text me on such short notice."

Peter hid his awkward expression by glancing down and laughing. I caught his eyes staring ahead at my legs.

"Yeah, I g-guess that seems pretty desperate," he admitted. "I dunno... I just had kind of a week."

The older man reached again for his neck and his trap, digging his fingers through the hunk of flesh there as he spoke.

"Work hasn't gone so well," he told me. "I've been on and off of planes all week. My sleep schedule is pretty messed up. Kathy has been riding me non-stop every time I'm home."

"Not in the good way, I guess," I said.

That drew a scoff from Peter. "Right."

I wasn't waiting for another way in. I let my plaid crop top fall from my shoulders to the floor. Peter's gaze went right to, or through my little white tee. I stepped closer and lifted a single knee into the couch beside him. Peter looked surprised, leaning slightly away so that I had room to climb fully into his lap. The pleated skirt hid only my most private areas as I straddled him.

Before Peter could say anything else, I reached up and took his hand away from his neck and placed it on my thigh. I watched him while I guided his hand up my leg, stopping dangerously close to my black skirt. I sat up straight in his lap, then reached with both hands to his traps. Peter was rigid at first, staring up at me as though I were a predator. When my fingers began to knead and squeeze the tight muscles beside his neck, I felt him deflate and relax.

Peter sank a bit into the cushions behind him while I worked my hands across his shoulders and his neck. I alternated the pressure, digging my fingertips deep and caressing the taut flesh in my hands. While I massaged him, Peter slunk further down, while I remained mounted in his lap. Even the tension in his hands melted away. His fingers went slack on the skin of my thigh.

I arched my back while I worked, my breasts pressing toward Peter and my hips spreading outward behind me. I watched Peter watching me. A few times his eyelids fluttered, though I hoped it wasn't from weariness alone. I'd seen that look other times before.

As much as I tended to Peter's needs in that moment, with something as simple as a massage, I couldn't deny the waves of excitement that resonated through my own body. Straddling a man like that, feeling his hands on my legs, and being on top of another person wearing barely anything down there... it was like sinking into a warm bath after a long day. I felt at home, able to indulge in my ultimate secret. From the looks of it, Peter certainly didn't mind at all.

"You... know you can call me anytime you need me, right?" I told him.

Peter swallowed. "Y-yeah, I just... sometimes... I feel guilty."

I almost stopped massaging him. I dreaded the next words, hoping this wasn't going where I thought. My own little facade flickered a bit, and sneaky pathetic doubts tried to poke their way in to my warm comfy bubble of fantasy.

"It just... feels like I'm using you," Peter went on.

Relieved, I flashed him a little grin. Perhaps it was for myself.

"Maybe I want that," I said.

I punctuated the thought by flipping my curls over one shoulder. My hands dug deeper into his shoulders. I opened my thighs and slid further into Peter's lap. The lace panties I wore glided right across his shorts to his crotch. My little bulge mashed into Peter. I wondered if he felt it. I continued to massage his shoulders, but I added subtle little movements through my hips, not quite grinding him.

I finally felt Peter's hand squeeze the side of my thigh. It spurred me deeper. I hid my excitement as best I could. Maybe today was the day.

"I... already feel like a prick to Kathy," Peter said. "I don't wanna s-seem like that to you. Like I'm just using you to get off."

I shrugged my shoulders a bit. "Isn't that what you wanted? Blow off steam, right? Let out everything that she lets build up?"

I could feel a bit of power building, both within my body and without. I could almost see just how sexy I was in the look in Peter's eyes. Lust started to fog his gaze. I ground my panties deep into him, and was met by his hips lifting the tiniest bit. I lowered myself just a bit, wanting to feed him more.

"When was the last time you two did anything?" I asked him in a hushed voice.

Peter's eyes were on my tits.

"Months," he simply said.

One of my hands slid behind his neck. I drew closer.

"When was the last time she sucked your dick?" I pressed.

Peter's eyes locked with mine. I felt it grow in his shorts.

"Years," he told me.

I slid back and forth along one of Peter's thighs now, feeling the growth beside that leg. I was beginning to get high from the shared arousal. I grinned down at him wickedly. I even dared to bring my lips close to his face, though I knew Peter wouldn't.

"Was she ever better at it than me?" I asked a bit playfully.

The corner of Peter's mouth twitched into a smile as he stared into my eyes. I remembered the big shadowy eyes of the girl in the mirror. My eyes.

"N-no," he admitted. "God no. Nothing like you."

I couldn't help but smile at the affirmation. Peter's hand squeezed at my ass cheek under my skirt now. All could think about was his cock, though. Even though I had him exactly where I wanted him, the thought of pleasing him with my mouth like so many times before pervaded my mind. I wanted to torture him with my tongue. I could feel it under my own little balls tucked into the lacy panties. His shaft was swollen. It felt too good to ignore.

"You want that again?" I offered.

Peter froze for only a couple of seconds before he nodded.

"Yes," he breathed.

It was all I needed. I slid down and away from his lap, planting my heels on the floor. My ass lifted first as I straightened my legs behind me, but I kept my upper body low over Peter's lap. I could see the shape through his shorts, just beside his thigh. I bit back my excitement, seeing the arousal I'd caused. My fingers worked as slowly as I could to unfasten Peter's shorts. His chest was already heaving.

I pulled his zipper down and tugged the flaps of his open shorts aside. Peeling down his underwear, it didn't take long for his dick to pop free. His pale cock stood straight before my eyes. His hair was neatly trimmed. God, the guy's cock was even handsome. It was no longer than my hand, but looked so perfect and smooth. I heard Peter blow out a long sigh, but my eyes were fixed on his erect dick.

Tugging his underwear downward with one hand, I took his perfect cock in my fingers with my other hand, and began to caress his warm flesh. I would never get used to holding a man's cock. The warmth in my palms and the soft flesh in my fingers hummed with arousal, which I could see and hold. Having my face this close to Peter's crotch was so forbidden. It made me feel alive. Each time the shaft throbbed in my hand, the arch in my back would dip a bit more as ripples of feminine energy coursed through me. I struggled to tear my eyes away from the man's dick.

I smiled and looked up at him. "You're always so happy to see me."

Peter didn't respond. He was trying to get his breathing under control from the look of it. I brought my mouth close to his dick, then stuck out my tongue as far as I could, dragging the tip over the pink velvety head. Peter moaned. I snickered, then did it again. The handsome dick nodded away from my lips only to fall back against the flat of my tongue. He kept throbbing, his cock head bouncing again and again off of my glossy lips.

"Ugh, god, Alison," he said.

Hearing that name was too much. It was the correct way to beg. I opened my mouth and shoved my lips all the way to his balls. No bigger than he was, it took little effort. Still, I wiggled my head until my nose was against Peter's crotch and my bottom lip slid into the wrinkled folds of his balls. My ass was high behind me, and I let my hips sway from side to side. My skirt started to slip down my body. I knew it could be giving Peter a view.

I held my head down with his dick hilted in my mouth. It felt so much better to have my head full of another man's dick. I remained for what felt like several minutes, absorbing the sensations of Peter's erect shaft twitching and straining on my tongue. His head seemed to swell fatter against my throat. I felt his pulse in my mouth. I felt the tension in his ass cheeks. I could even feel his toes curled and his knees lifting behind me.

At last I let him free. I was sure to drag my tongue up and off of his shaft as I went. As I popped up, I flipped my curls over my shoulder, scooped his stiff cock into my hand once more, and stroked him while glaring and grinning up from his crotch. I felt so alive. It was so girly, so slutty, and I loved every second of it. Peter admired me with his jaw hanging open and his face contorted in pleasure.

I chuckled.

"Just relax," I told him. "We've got all night."

I hoped I was right. I sank down into the floor on my knees. I reached for both his shorts and his underwear and pulled them down his legs. Peter allowed me to strip him until he was naked from the waist down. I tossed his clothes aside and sank back into his crotch. My silicone breasts mashed themselves down into his bare thighs. I adjusted until I had everything I wanted right in front of me.

Peter hadn't touched me much up until that point. My mind fizzled away when his hand slid through my hair. He cupped my head and rubbed his fingertips into me, coaxing me in. I took the base of his cock with my fingers and brought it close. I stared right at him as I pressed my lips and tongue into his smooth head. I pursed my lips, allowing them to fatten and slurp in the soft meat of his glans. I allowed my tongue to slither around the wet knob, feeling it jump in my lips.

Our eyes were locked while I worked. I could see the girl he saw in my mind's eye. Peter looked as if he wanted to look away or lay his head back, but he just couldn't stop watching what I was doing to him. I mouthed the tip of his dick for so long, but we never broke eye contact. I watched every time he twitched or jumped from the touch of my tongue. I imagined how hot I must have looked, with my perfectly painted face and a perfect dick stuck between my lips.

At one point, I flicked the tip of my tongue through the slit in his head, violently lapping at his hole with his shaft surging in my fist. Peter groaned and wiggled his thighs, suffering the sensations until he couldn't anymore.

Peter's fingers dug painfully through my hair and forced my head down his cock. It was my turn to moan. I did so as his dick jammed its way through my mouth. Peter forcefully tugged me down and shoved his hips outward, taking control for the first time. I all but collapsed into his lap. My mind reeled and my heart began to fall out of rythym. My knees slid apart on the floor as I lost control of my body.

He started to fuck my head.

Peter's thrusts were small, but with his two hands now holding my head in place and his dick beating the back of my throat, it was forceful enough to feel like I was being gagged. My eyes crossed. The fact that a man was overpowering me in that moment and taking control of me numbed my mind. I didn't care that I couldn't breathe. I didn't care that soon my eyes would leak tears and wreck my makeup. I hoped Peter didn't stop.

He eventually did. Peter pulled me up by the hair until his wet dick popped out of my lips. He let out a sound that was both a bursting sigh and a long guttural moan. My brain was fried. I tossed my hair back over my shoulders and laughed breathlessly, but immediately dove back onto his dick. This time, I was eager to taste every inch, over and over. Peter still held my head, but I pumped my lips down his dick until they kissed his balls, then slurped my way back to his head, repeatedly. The length of his shaft felt so right charging across the fat of my tongue.

I was kind of lost. My head was vacant of anything but dick. Flashes popped in and out of my mind, memories of staring at the girl in the mirror full of doubt and disgust. That all seemed so stupid now. I was fucking this guy's cock with my head. He was so hard, there was no give to the stiff shaft that beat its way into my face. I just allowed my lips, tongue, and cheeks to mold their way around its shape, feeling every contour and ridge and vein as it slid in and out of me.

I slowed my motions, dragging my fat lips back across Peter's tip until it ballooned out of my mouth. Immediately I slurped it back inside, staring ahead the writhing handsome husband on the couch. I teased the slit again with my tongue tip. I let saliva drool down the shaft only to gobble it back up. I ran the flat of my tongue around each and every feature along every inch of Peter's dick.

He reached a point where he couldn't take it anymore, then wrenched his fingers through my hair again. My ass jutted out wide behind me. My asshole puckered and I felt a throb from behind my lacy panties. I couldn't tell at first if Peter was trying to tug my head off of his cock, or keep me still, or jam my face down further. I'm not sure he knew either. I watched his gasping face, moaning into the meat in my head.

Peter pulled me in and lifted his waist again. His lower body rolled on the couch and his crotch thrust toward my face. The head of his cock gagged me again and again. I lowered my hands to his naked thighs and steadied myself, letting my eyes roll back into their sockets. The impossibly erect dick plowed through my mouth. I had no control again. Even though I clutched his legs, it felt as if the only thing holding my head up was the dick inside of me.

My head bounced in his crotch. Peter fucked my head with almost a musical rythym, not to fast, nor too slow. He was moaning loudly out into the living room with each thrust now. His arms were all but wrapped behind my skull, clutching me deep in his crotch. I'd never felt this from him. It made me weak in the knees. The tighter he pulled my hair, the more limp my body grew. I gave myself to him.

The cum spilled over my tongue.

I never felt it building. Peter's rythymic thrusts and clenching body all felt so steady. When the film began to spurt into my mouth, it shocked me. My hand reflexively lurched for his cock. Peter let out several choppy moans of ecstasy as he came. I fought to collect myself. He still clutched me by the hair of my head, attempting to force his dick deep down toward my throat. I struggled to pull my head back so that I didn't choke on each new jet of cum.

It was a surreal moment. We'd done this before, but never like this. Never so soon. I kept my head fixed on his dick even after Peter's body sank and his hands fell away from my head. I scooted forth and regained my posture on my knees. My thoughts began to fall back into place. It wasn't what I'd expected. Of course, I still had a mouth full of dick and cum, which was incredible.

But... now it might be over.

I opened my lips just a bit, letting Peter's cum drool down his twitching shaft. The pearly mess raced toward his crotch and his balls, and before the cock could go limp in my lips, I dove down after the cum. I slurped the goop back up the shaft to leave sticky streaks of the substance on his reddened skin. I let it fall again, dripping and oozing from my glossy lips. I sucked hard, cleaning Peter's cock again.