Locked In With Michael

The sterile scent of disinfectant still clung to my scrubs, a grim reminder of the long shift I’d just finished at the hospital. Exhaustion pressed down on me, a heavy blanket woven from duty and the silent suffering of others. But tonight, tonight was different. Tonight, I was going home. To Michael. The thought alone sent a delicious shiver down my spine, a primal yearning that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks. Just the prospect of sinking into his arms, feeling the warmth of his body against mine, was enough to chase away the lingering fatigue.

As I fumbled with the deadbolt, a familiar presence filled the doorway. Michael. His silhouette, broad and strong, blocked the dim hallway light, and the scent of his aftershave, a blend of sandalwood and musk, instantly enveloped me. He moved with a deliberate grace, a silent invitation to abandon myself to his embrace. Without a word, he spun me around, his grip firm yet gentle, and pressed me flush against the door. It wasn't a violent act, just an assertion of ownership, a clear declaration of his desire.

His lips brushed against mine, tentative at first, then deepening into a passionate exploration. It was a slow, deliberate dance of tongues, a silent conversation of pleasure and anticipation. The world outside faded away, the sounds of the hospital replaced by the rhythm of our breathing, the heat of our bodies intertwined. My own lips responded, seeking out the familiar contours of his mouth, lost in the intoxicating sensation.

He lifted his chin slightly, exposing the raw, sensitive skin beneath his lower lip. My hand instinctively reached out, tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the stubble against my fingertips. As he pulled back, his eyes met mine, dark and intense, filled with an unspoken hunger. The air crackled with electricity, a potent mix of lust and vulnerability. The realization hit me like a wave: he wasn’t just seeking physical release; he wanted me, completely, utterly, and without reservation.

His hand moved down my waist, a slow, deliberate caress that sent shivers crawling across my skin. The touch was both gentle and insistent, a promise of pleasure to come. As his hand lingered, my body responded instinctively, arching slightly, my hips shifting in anticipation. The sensation intensified as his fingers found the sensitive nerve cluster just above my pubic bone. A moan escaped my lips, a primal cry of pleasure that seemed to draw him in even further.

The realization that he was completely naked washed over me, stripping away any remaining inhibitions. The coarse texture of his chest brushed against my hand as I instinctively found it, the powerful musculature a stark contrast to the softness of my own flesh. His big, hard cock, throbbing with anticipation, pressed against my stomach, a tantalizing promise of what was to come. The heat built, a slow burn that intensified with each passing moment. My breath came in ragged gasps, my body responding to the mounting pressure.

He moved closer, his lips grazing my neck, sending a delicious shiver through my spine. He pulled back slightly, his hand sliding down my hips, squeezing gently, teasingly. The sensation was exquisite, igniting a fire within me that threatened to consume me entirely. The moan that escaped my lips was louder this time, a desperate plea for release. My hands found his hairy chest, tracing the ridges of his pectoral muscles, lost in the sensory overload.

As he leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear, I whispered, "Relax, baby, relax." It was a command, a surrender, a complete and utter submission to his will. He responded with a deep, resonant sigh, pulling me closer until our bodies were pressed together, our breaths mingling in the darkness.

He yanked my scrubs over my head, the cool fabric a stark contrast to the heat of his body. My hands instinctively reached out, pulling his hairy chest, feeling the roughness against my fingertips. The sensation was both exhilarating and a little unsettling, a reminder of the raw, primal power he possessed. He squeezed my tits through my black lace bra, pulling the fabric taut, teasing me with the promise of what was to come. My body shuddered involuntarily, a silent invitation to continue.

“Relax baby, relax.” he said, his voice a low, soothing rumble that vibrated through my bones. It was a reassurance, a gentle reminder that he had me under control, that I was safe in his arms. As he leaned in closer, kissing me deeply and aggressively, my body responded with an uncontrollable urge to submit. His big hands slid down my hips and around, squeezing my ass, intensifying the pleasure. My moans became louder, more desperate, as the heat built within me.

The world narrowed, focusing solely on the feel of his hands, the scent of his skin, the rhythm of his breath against my ear. I was drowning in waves of pleasure, lost in the intoxicating sensation of being completely consumed by his desire. The pain that accompanied the initial penetration was quickly forgotten, replaced by the overwhelming euphoria of release.

His legs wrapped around me, pinning me against the door, while his hand clasped my scrub top, pulling it free from my shoulders. As he pulled my bra, the clasp broke with a snap, sending the delicate lace flying across the room. The sensation was both shocking and liberating, a final stripping away of inhibitions. He squeezed my tits, pinching my nipples hard, teasing me with the promise of pleasure. Lifting and squeezing my breasts, he licked and sucked each nipple hard and long. Then he nipped all over my breasts as I tossed my head back, banging the door.

“Take me, fuck me, own me,” I choked out, my voice raw with desire. It was a desperate plea, a complete surrender to his will. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and he seized the opportunity, pulling me closer, his hand firmly securing my hips against the door. He pushed in, slow and deliberate, taking his time to savor every sensation.

As he thrust deeper, my body convulsed with pleasure, my nails raking across his back in a desperate attempt to cling to him. The pain was a welcome distraction from the overwhelming pleasure, a reminder that I was still alive, still in control. His voice was a low growl, a promise of more to come. “I’m cumming, Michael, yes, baby.” The words hung in the air, a declaration of dominance, a testament to his power.

He continued to thrust, his movements frantic, desperate, as if determined to empty himself completely. My own body responded in kind, writhing and shaking with each thrust, my moans escalating into guttural cries of pleasure. The sensation was overwhelming, a tidal wave of sensation that threatened to drown me in its intensity. As my orgasm gushed and squirted, a torrent of pleasure, I let out a final, desperate scream.

Michael continued to force his way in, pushing me to the very edge of endurance. The pain was immense, but it was a welcome pain, a reminder that he was taking me, possessing me, pushing me to the limits of my capacity. As he finally pulled out, exhausted and spent, he collapsed beside me, his chest heaving with exertion.

We lay there for a moment, breathless and spent, clinging to each other in the aftermath of our shared pleasure. The scent of sweat and arousal hung heavy in the air, a testament to the intensity of our encounter. As he gently stroked my hair, whispering sweet nothings in my ear, I knew that this was just the beginning. The night was far from over, and Michael had plans for me, plans that would undoubtedly leave me breathless and begging for more.

Did you like this story? Locked In With Michael look, but like these, here Sex stories.