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In The Heat Of The Night	By : shaydshanidepp Category: Individual Celebrities > Gareth David-Lloyd Views: 1244 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Standard:I don't know Gareth David Lloyd and this is all fictional. He's his own person I don't own him and never will nor am I making any money off of him. That's just wrong!

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He was in cock sucking heaven that little voice in the back of his head that was screaming he was cheating on his girlfriend shut up when he slide down her throat. If he wasn't careful with her he could come this way and the night was far to early for that he lay beside her looking her over intently she was beautiful. Finely tanned olive skin and delicate facial features she was thick but there wasn't an ounce of excess fat on her. Like she was made to be shapely and curvy even her breasts while somewhat large were crowded perfectly on her chest.
He kissed her again free hand taking full roaming advantage before resting between her thighs she broke the kiss and looked away from him slightly. “Has it been long?” voice husky and strained he waited for her response. Biting her lip she tried not to cry as she simply nodded her head slightly a tear slid down her cheek anyway. “Three years and two weeks our last time was two weeks before the wedding.” He kissed her collar bone as understanding set in she had only been with that one man and here just happen to come along at this point in her life when she wasn't really ready yet to let go.
This had more meaning for him now as he began to fully explore her she needed him. Her lower lips were a tantalizing treat coated with her juices. He'd never tasted a woman that was truly sweet before but she tasted like honey or something. He lapped appreciatively like a cat drinking warm cream delighting in the sounds she made when he slipped two fingers inside of her.
Frustrated with how slow things were going she groaned wanting something more forceful and fulfilling and tried to struggle against the pace he set.
“All things in good time love. All things in good time.” She let out a loud wailing moan as he wiggled his tongue around inside of her. “Gods” her world was spinning she was so close and then nothing. He placed soft kisses all over her body adding fuel to her fire. “Look at me the night is far from over.” He lowered himself on top of her parting her thighs with no effort at all and had to hold her down. She was so very wanton but she couldn't help it every part of her was on fire she needed him she tried to pull him to her peppering him kisses but to no avail he resisted. “Calm down woman. Now where's the condoms?” He looked in the back of the bottom drawer behind the pink nightie and pulled one out. He plunged forward into her making her arch up into him as he set a slow aching pace. With each thrust she grew more and more wanton letting out screeching moans. Every now and again she'd grab his butt and pull him deeper telling him to fuck her harder.
When she jumped up sharply and made him change positions he was floored but changed none the less his balls slapped against her ass in slick with her juices she cried out nearly falling forward almost off the bed. He lay her down and hoisted one of her one legs above her head pumping her hard surely she'd have some kind of bruises tomorrow. He could only pant and grunt while she made some words barely comprehensible. Crying out the occasional “Oh Gods” and “Fuck harder” as amorous of lovers that they were their bodies began to reach their peaks she came first clamping down on his steely rod taking him with her. Collapsing together in a sweaty heap the fell to sleep.
He woke up untangling himself from her and got up to go piss forgetting that he hadn't asked where the toilet was he just casually looked around. Her kitchen smelled so wonderfully he found this and that looking at finished products. She made her own soaps, shampoos, conditioners, perfumes and etcetera each scent combination was what she crafted by nose. In the next room there was a library and pool table he found a book of poetry with a poem. “I never finished it. I just couldn't think of the words.”
“Well what about now?” he asked wrapping his strong arms around her she traced the scars and looked up at him.
“I believe you gave me the words I needed.”
She gave into the temptation to be with him again her cries echoed in the small library before falling silent again. He woke sometime later and lit the fire staring at her on the rug she looked at peace now grabbing a blanket off the large leather sofa he fell asleep next to her thinking that this was good and comfortable.
Morning came she had showered dressed and cooked breakfast balls of paper littered the floor and he picked up each one smiling for some reason.
“I washed your clothes but if you want there some of Cyriaque's clothes are in the wardrobe. Help yourself.” He dressed and joined her for breakfast he was so overwhelmed by the scent of food he was eating before he thought about it. Good God save him because she was a good cook.
“My mama was a Cajun French woman meaning she had a little more of France in her blood. My father Cajun but southerner with great big worldly views I guess I came by who I am naturally. My big sister had flaming red not ginger but like fire truck red hair and hazel eyes with nearly porcelain white skin I came out like mama permanent tan all year round. Now she taught me the way to keep a man coming back to you is through his stomach. Now I don't know if that's true but tell me what you think?”
She turned around and he was on his third plate he smiled at her shyly before clearing his mouth of food. “Good. The food and I believe that anythings possible.”
A knock came from downstairs and she left him alone where he went to the library again. There was the poem completely finished and beautifully written.
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In The Heat Of The Night