A Spark That Can No Longer Be Smothered
Women who pretended they had no idea how desirable they were always pissed me off the most. And Marta pretended so convincingly that for the first three years we knew each other, I genuinely believed she was simply a “nice girl from the group.”
Now she stood in front of me in that cramped kitchen at Tomek’s party, wearing those fucking black leggings and sexy panties that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, and a loose, oversized T-shirt that slipped off one shoulder every time she reached for a glass. She wasn’t wearing a bra. I knew because her nipples stood out clearly whenever the air from the fan brushed against the fabric.
She looked at me with that half-smile of hers that always meant either “fuck off” or “try it, if you’ve got the balls.” That evening, I felt it was the latter.
– What are you staring at? – she said quietly, almost in a whisper, so no one else would hear.
Her voice was slightly hoarse, as if she had just finished a long cigarette or a long scream.
– You – I answered simply. No beating around the bush.
– I can see that.
She leaned her hip against the counter.
She moved half a step closer.
The scent of her perfume mingled with the warmth of her skin and a hint of alcohol – sweet and heavy, as if vanilla had been mixed with something intensely carnal.
– And what do you see? – she asked, raising an eyebrow.
I moved close enough that my thigh almost touched her leg.
I felt the heat through the fabric.
– That you’re wet – I said quietly, straight into her ear.
I didn’t have to touch her to know. I could see it in the way she breathed. In the way her hips swayed ever so slightly when I spoke.
She froze for a second.
Then she laughed shortly, nervously, but she didn’t move away.
– Are you sure?
– I’m wet just from looking at you – I replied.
– So yes. I’m sure.
Her pupils dilated.
I could see it even in the dim light of the lamp above the sink.
Suddenly, she grabbed my wrist.
Not hard. But decisively.
– Come on – she said.
She pulled me toward the hallway.
We passed through the living room, where about five couples were dancing, passed Tomek, who was shouting something about another bottle, and entered a small guest room containing only a bed and a dresser.
She closed the door.
Not locked.
That was important.
We both knew someone might come in.
And we both knew that turned us on even more.
She leaned back against the door.
She looked at me from below, tilting her chin up slightly.
– Well, go on – she said.
Her voice trembled slightly.
– You said I’m wet.
Check.
It wasn’t a request.
It was an order.
I slowly knelt in front of her.
Very slowly.
I wanted her to feel every inch of that descent.
When my knees touched the floor, I placed my hands on her hips.
The leggings were fucking thin.
I felt the heat of her pussy through the fabric.
She was hot.
Almost scorching.
I began moving my fingers downward, toward her crotch.
I found the seam.
It was damp.
– Fuck, Marta… – I muttered.
– I told you.
She raised one leg and rested her foot on the edge of the bed behind me.
She opened herself before me like a book someone had just opened to its most anticipated page.
I ran my finger along the fabric, down the cleft.
The panties underneath were soaked.
Thin, lacy, black – I could feel the lace beneath my fingertips.
– Tear them off – she whispered.
Her voice broke on the last syllable.
I looked up.
Her eyes were glassy.
– Say that again – I demanded.
[whisper, trembling slightly]
– Tear… my… panties off.
I slipped my fingers beneath the waistband at the side.
The fabric was taut, wet, hot.
I pulled hard.
They tore with a quiet snap.
The lace split in two places.
I didn’t pull them off completely.
I left them ripped, hanging from one leg, while her other leg remained propped on the bed.
Her pussy was right in front of my mouth.
Her labia were swollen and glistening.
Her clitoris stood out, dark pink.
She smelled of arousal.
Of the sweet-salty scent of a woman who hadn’t been properly fucked in a long time.
– Touch me… – she almost begged.
First, I brushed her with my tongue.
Flatly, slowly, from bottom to top.
She moaned loudly.
Too loudly.
Someone in the living room must have heard it.
I didn’t care.
I pushed my tongue deeper.
She tasted like the sea and honey at the same time.
I began sucking her clitoris – gently at first, then harder, rhythmically.
Her hips began to move.
They rocked straight into my face.
I slid two fingers inside her.
She was so wet there was almost no resistance.
– Fuck… yes… deeper…
I began fingering her while licking her clitoris with quick, short movements.
I felt her tighten.
Felt her muscles pulsing around my fingers.
Suddenly, she grabbed my hair.
Hard.
– I’m going to come… – she gasped.
– Fuck… I’m going to come all over your face…
I didn’t stop.
She clenched like a vise.
She cried out softly, gutturally.
A wave of orgasm passed through her entire body – her hips trembled, her stomach tightened, her thighs began to shake.
I kept sucking her, more gently now, drawing out the pleasure.
When she finally released my hair, she collapsed back against the door.
She was breathing heavily.
She looked down at me.
Her eyes were hazy.
– Now it’s your turn – she said hoarsely.
– Take off your pants.
I stood up.
I unzipped my fly.
My cock sprang out, hard as steel, its veins taut as ropes.
She touched it with her hand.
Her fingers were cold from the adrenaline.
– Jesus… it’s so thick…
I smiled.
– Do you think you can handle it?
She looked straight into my eyes.
– I’ll try…
…everything.
And then she grabbed me by the hips and pulled me toward her.
Her Turn
I stood so close that I could feel the warmth of her breath on my neck.
My cock pulsed in her hand—hard, tense, with a drop of cum already gathering at the tip.
Marta looked at it as if it were something that both terrified and hypnotized her.
—So thick… do you really think it’ll fit all the way in?
I smiled faintly.
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I placed my hand on the back of her neck, gently but firmly pulling her face closer.
—Try it—I said quietly.
—Very slowly.
Her knees buckled almost immediately.
She slid downward, still leaning her back against the door, until she was kneeling.
The panties I had torn moments earlier hung from one ankle like some obscene ornament.
She looked up.
Her eyes were wide open, her pupils like black wells.
—Fuck… you smell so strong… it makes my nose tingle.
She brought her face closer.
First, she brushed the single glistening drop with the tip of her tongue.
She tasted me cautiously, as if checking whether I was too salty, too bitter.
Then she opened her mouth wider.
She wrapped her lips around just the head.
The warmth of her tongue was like electricity—hot, wet, slow.
I began breathing harder.
I couldn’t help myself—my hips moved forward an inch on their own.
She stopped me with a hand on my hip.
She looked up with a slight warning in her eyes.
—Easy… I’m the one deciding how deep.
She began to suck—at first just the head, circling it with her tongue, playing with the frenulum, making my muscles tense like bowstrings.
Then she slid lower.
Halfway down.
Her cheeks hollowed.
I could feel her throat trying to relax, but it still tightened slightly.
Marta made a low, guttural sound—the vibration traveled through my entire cock all the way to my balls.
I grabbed her by the hair.
I didn’t pull.
I simply held her, so she could feel that I was close to the edge.
She sped up.
Her head moved faster and faster, her lips sliding along my entire length, saliva beginning to run down her chin.
She sucked loudly, without shame.
Wet, obscene sounds filled the small room.
Suddenly, she stopped.
She pulled me from her mouth with a wet smack.
She looked up, panting.
—I want you to come down my throat… but not yet.
First I want you to bring me to the edge again… and only then will you take me hard.
She stood up.
She was still wearing that oversized T-shirt and the leggings with the torn crotch.
She grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the bed.
She lay on her back, spreading her legs wide.
Her pussy still glistened from her earlier orgasm and my saliva.
—With your fingers… your tongue… whatever you want.
But bring me close again… very close… and stop exactly when I’m begging you not to stop.
I knelt between her thighs.
First, I slid in two fingers—they went in without any resistance, slick and hot.
I began to fuck her slowly with them, but deeply, while massaging her clitoris with my thumb in circular motions.
Her hips lifted off the mattress.
—Yes… fuck… exactly like that…
I sped up.
Three fingers now.
I stretched her, feeling her walls clench tighter and tighter.
I began to lick—quickly, flatly, right across her clitoris.
Her breathing became ragged.
Her fingers dug into the sheet.
—Oh fuck… already… I’m coming…
I slowed down.
I pulled my fingers almost all the way out.
Only the tip of one finger remained on her clitoris—I was barely touching it.
She looked at me with disbelief and fury at the same time.
—Don’t stop… please… I’m begging you…
I thrust my fingers inside again—sharply, deeply.
She began to arch.
Her entire body was taut as a bowstring.
—I’m coming… fuck… I’m coming!
She clamped down on my fingers like a vise.
She trembled all over.
Her hips undulated, squeezing out every contraction.
When she finally relaxed, panting, she looked at me with triumph in her eyes.
—Now… take me.
Hard.
Without mercy.
I turned her onto her stomach.
I lifted her hips.
I slid inside in one motion—all the way to the end.
She screamed into the pillow.
I could feel her pussy pulsing around me, still sensitive after her orgasm.
I began to fuck her hard, rhythmically, deeply.
Every thrust ended with my hips slapping against her ass.
—Yes… fuck… harder…
I grabbed her by the hair.
I pulled her head back.
—Tell me you want me to come inside you—I panted.
—I want it… come inside me… please… fill me…
I sped up.
I could feel my balls tightening.
The last few thrusts were brutal.
I came inside her—in hot, long streams.
We both collapsed onto the bed, panting.
Her voice, quiet and hoarse:
—Next time… I want to try it in the ass.
We lay there in silence for a while, interrupted only by our breathing.
Behind the door, the party was still going strong.
No one had noticed our absence yet.
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