The Powerful One - Part 2

So, I did it.  Who am I to deny a man the truth?  I kissed him.  He was a good kisser, he smelled good and his temperature was just fine.  At first, we joked about keeping it professional and there was no touching.  We just kissed.  Then, I couldn't resist and I put my hand lightly on his arm and fought the urge to venture lower.

The more we kissed without touching, the more my mind wanted to pull back and just kiss him for hours. My body wanted other things.   And after making out for an extended amount of time, my body and mind got what they wanted.  He was so strong.  His hands were big and powerful.  This is one reason why he gets the name The Powerful One.

There was no fast progression from talking to sex.  There wasn't even a fast progression from making out to intercourse.  He took his time.  We kissed, we touched.  It was truly beautiful.  He kissed my entire body and when he did enter me, it was passionate and deliberate.  He was 6'4" of solid muscle and his skin was beautiful.  Every part of his body was perfect.

We made love all night.  We came together the first time.  Afterward, we talked and laughed for a bit, then he was ready again.  Each time we made love, it got a little rougher.  He was exercising great restraint, but as he wrapped his arm around my neck and pulled my down onto him, his grip got a bit more firm, while his kiss stayed soft and warm.  I came twice.  We talked more and I was sure that two was all I was getting.  I turned the lights off and we settled in for sleep.  As we joked more and flirted, he would pull me up against him.  I traced the lines of his arm as they stood out from the backdrop of my white walls.

I asked for his hand to see how big it was against mine.  I had noticed they were large, but once against mine, I realized he might have the biggest hands I have ever touched.  They were beautiful, as well. With our hands pressed against each other, he asked if I was satisfied.  I told him I was and joked that I liked being manhandled by him.  He pulled me close and said he hadn't even started manhandling me yet.  As he kissed my neck, I told him he was 'a powerful human being.'

At this, he pulled back.  He thought it a strange choice of words.  He said he would have understood strong man, but 'powerful human being' was too much.  I defended my statement.  Then we got off onto a conversation about what makes one powerful.  He thought you had to have and actively exercise power over others to be powerful, where I argued that potential power makes one powerful.

I rolled over and smiled.  I was just happy to be laying in bed with a gorgeous man that challenged my word choices.  As I was drifting off and feeling thankful, he pressed up against me hard and said "you had to use the word 'powerful' didn't you?"  I slid down on the bed and filled my mouth with him.  He was harder and more wanting than he had been all night.  It was as if we hadn't just had sex twice.

He pulled me up to his mouth, then turned me face down.  He wrapped his arm around my throat and pulled me against him as he entered me.  He verged on hurting me, but knew just when to pull back.  As his grip around my throat tightened, he kissed my neck and whispered in my ear.  I was too intoxicated by him to remember what he said.  I just remember the intensity of simultaneous force and restraint.  He turned me over again and kissed me as he tightened his grip on my thighs and deepened his drive.  We came together one last time.

He laid down on top of me and we held each other.  Post-orgasm, I would tighten and loosen around him and he would push into me.  We fell asleep and I woke to him pulling out of me and slipping off of me.  I held onto him and he said he was too heavy.  I hadn't even noticed the weight of his body as I slept.  I just didn't want to not have him inside me.  We fell asleep on our respective sides of the bed and in the morning, he rushed to get dressed, claiming to have class.  So, I walked him out.

I knew I wouldn't see him again.  Later in the day, he sent the "I had a good time with you, we will do it again" text.  But, I didn't hold my breath.  His smell faded from my pillows and I still hadn't heard from him.  Then, tonight, my phone rang and it was him.  Only three days had passed, but he apologized for not calling sooner.  He said he'd been busy.  It was good to hear from him, but I am not going to get my hopes for an encore up.  We will just see what happens.