He had allowed herself to be stolen away from her, he remembered through the curtains of time. He sat, motionless, thinking of the curve of her body in the still moonlit night for what seemed like an eternity. Despite the hubbub around him from that moment on, he remained acutely aware of the memory of her barely audible breath.
That was where it had all began. In that small, dark summer house where love had blossomed and flourished and filled them with hope. The renewed faith in a world where life, love, and happiness could be theirs.
He remembered how bad things had been at times in the past - their stormy relationship and the bitterness that he had felt at her continual petty jealousies. He had finally had enough and had sought instead a simple passion, with an uncomplicated woman, a romantic novelist in search of a real romance. Blindly, he had tumbled on, down the path to momentary fulfillment, finally losing sight of the light ahead. And then he had left his real love and she had gone away.
And now she was back. The receipt of her visiting card had left him wondering, before that smile has slid across his features. By agreement he had walked once again into the dining room of the grand hotel wondering where this journey of rediscovery would leave him. He was no adventurer so where was this journey to take him. As the Maitre D' escorted him to a table, he never thought he would actually complete the journey to the table, but would turn and abandon the chase. Yet, as he sat down in the cane chair, he realised that he had.
Here he was in this stuffed shirt palace, sitting at a small fussily laid table, feeling nearly as overdressed as the elaborate place settings in his lounge suit and tie. Despite the conventionality of the cut and the fact that it was de rigeur in this dining room, he felt almost out of place. He allowed his thoughts to turn elsewhere again, looking out into the street. He called for a bottle of Chablis and two long stemmed glasses from the wine waiter. He was waiting and trying to be impassive and suave about it. Just waiting for what?
Although her eyes flickered, she almost seemed to be asleep. The coachman sat hunched on the box seat in front of her awaiting instructions. She was silent and sat still, nervously watching the large glass windows of the hotel from across the street. She saw someone walking in, but she couldn't be certain. So she waited. She closed her eyes and leaned back and waited looking no more. The coachman sensed her chest rise and fall in the darkness of the coach and grinned lecherously into the darkness.
Throughout those years, she had thought that she would go out of her mind. She had listened over and over again in her head to him make love to that other woman, standing there in a nightmarish hallway with a hand covering her mouth. There was a strange gleam in her eye as she watched them in her daydreams. She sees someone else's arm slip around him, stroking his back through his shirt. A sudden thought seemed to strike him, and he turned to look up at his partner, eyes wide with wonder. Then, all questions were driven from her mind as he raised his mouth to meet that woman's. She watched his tongue flick lightly against those lips, and saw them part instinctively. He probed that mouth, sliding his tongue past the lips. She observed the sensuous dance in her mind, letting her tongue, lick her dry lips. She wanted to follow his partner's lead and taste his breath, thinking how it would sweet yet still salty with the sadness of her departure. She remembered the smooth hardness of his teeth and the softness of his lips, that had joined with hers innumerable times.
Then she was crying and out of control as she watched his hands, firm against that woman's shoulders, as he drew her down to the bed. The coverlets looked soft and deep there, making a fine fine nest for them. He ran his hands slowly down that clothed body and she could see the woman breathing just as hard as he now. There was a deep, bitter ache inside her, yearning to be filled.
She sat shaking in her carriage, wondering if she should give this up now. She had made her preparations but she was not altogether certain. Would he run away again. Looking across to the grand hotel plate glass windows she could see that he looked different, now, and even a little exciting, but she was not sure that she wanted to try anymore with him. She looked towards him and the thought of him so proximate after all this time caused little shivers to go all through her. She muttered to herself incessantly.
"Are you all right?" her coachman asked gently. She hesitated a moment, unsure, then nodded slowly. She looked up at him gratefully and saw him smile supportively, but in her mind this twisted into a mocking grin. Then she thought that he was teasing her, mocking her empathy with this lost love in the hotel.
Angrily, she turned away and the coachman resumed his silence, no longer attentive to his mistress. She could just about see his hand resting on the table and remembered back to the nightmare of those fingers running lightly up another's leg. She suppressed a groan at the though of him tangling them among those short curls. Tiny shocks started through her, weakening her knees and almost causing her to want to collapse in the well of the carriage as she observed him raise a glass to his lips. His mouth looked as busy now as it had when it closed over that woman's nipples. He sipped gently, sucking the wine in as he had suckled on those hideous little peaks. She suppressed a sob, filled with a toxic hatred. She clutched at her throat and wiped her mouth with the back of it, trying to efface these false memories.
The bell tolled on the town clock and woke her from her unpleasant recollections. She pressed her lips together thinly and knew that she was going to make the right decision, a decision that seemed to be encapsulated in the moment. She took her hand away from her mouth and tapped her coachman on the shoulder and had him open the door to her carriage. She descended in fine style and walked quickly across the street. Breathing rapidly she stepped through the door. He saw her walking hurriedly towards him. He gazed at her and nervously finished his drink. He remained seated as she approached him from across the room. She stopping ten feet away from him, looking down at him, deeply into his eyes. Then, she reached across with a gloved hand and advanced a few paces until they touched for the first time, a long slow joining.
Their fingers arced together and melded into one as she seemingly pulled him from the chair, levering him up into her arms. He was stocky and must have weighed nearly twice her frail form, so the impulse lifting him into her arms must have come in part from him. It didn't matter to either of them as they drifted into one another's arms. He knocked a glass over and to the Maitre D's obvious dismay they both watched in fall to the ground with a shattering crash, disturbing the other diners.
She stooped and picked up the broken stem of the glass, holding it before her face, considering him through the broken bowl of the glass. He looked back, a little nervous. Her eyes were to blame; they were burning the clothes from his body one layer at a time. He had been with her little more than a few moments, and already the tension between them was dangerous. For the next ten minutes, she had watched him run over the menu, toying while her cutlery while he devoured the succulent descriptions on the menu. She only hoped she was next.
She ran her hand through the lazy waves of her short, thick hair and set down her glass. A sleeveless, black dress hugging her body, tracing every decadent curve, would have been much more appropriate than this riding skirt and blouse she thought. While not her usual fare, it had seemed important to wear something that would not automatically draw his eyes towards her. She was not going to wiggle her behind in a the dress a little too familiar there. The constant sense of being groped by his eyes might have aroused her, but it would distract her from testing him, as he needed to be tested.
Random spokes of hair hung over her shining eyes. She brushed them aside, leaving no mystery as to the nature of her stare. He kept talking, avoiding the trap of her eyes. Her thick, arching eyebrows were her deadly lures. They made her look constantly and unnervingly inquisitive. Even at her most relaxed, even when asleep, she seemed to be prying apart secrets. If that was not enough, she could make every glance, every gesture, every breath erotic. It just came naturally to her.
So many things vied for her attention, but this night was invaluable, not to be squandered. She had come to sit before him and to remain at least for now still out of reach. His unease was understandable and yet still peculiar. His voice was like a feather waggling nervously against her ears, teasing out her laughter despite her attempts to look interested. She let her quiet magic work on him as silence hovered over the table. Looking down at her neglected dessert. Raspberries lounged on the little dune of ice cream and waded in the shallow, white sea surrounding it.
She steeped the tip of her middle finger in the melted portion, drawing it out slowly. From the short, unpolished nail to the first knuckle, a little mound of vanilla coated her fingertip. She stared into him as her hand descended out of his sight and into her lap. A shiver roamed her body, pinching her thick lips into a pout and flaring her eyes. She blew a single, breathy moan across the table at him. Smiling wickedly, one eyebrow cocked, she lifted her hand into the candlelight. The finger was clean.
Held tight in the clench of his face, his slate eyes looked about to shatter. He was completely dazed. Watching the muscles in his neck tense, the wordless moving of his mouth, tilted and full of wanting. His eyes raked over her body. She was afraid of what she had awoken. He rose and chuckled at himself. His whole demeanour had changed. He was alive again but shaky, a drowned man resuscitated.
They left the table untenanted and four fifty pound notes fluttering down into the crystal ashtray. When they reached the door to the hotel, they linked arms to walk quickly out and away, down a side turning, over a stile and then slowly down a winding trail through a wooded park. They spoke happily in the gathering evening gloom. They walked on, beginning to catch up on the ten years apart.
When they finally rounded a bend in the trail and were out of sight of the hotel they stopped, looked at one another and became that kiss again - the kiss that they had shared in their thoughts for so long; the same kiss that they had contributed to so many times before, without ever touching. She had never been kissed this way before - so completely different from those other kisses that they had shared in the past - longer, warmer and deeper. It was a long, slow, soft, wet kiss that seemed to last for ever.
As their lips touched, she moved in closer to him. He responded by wrapping his arms around her and pulled her tight into an embrace, pressing her against the firmness and heat of her thigh. After an age they parted and began walking again, this time not so slowly as before. Their anticipation was to come was evident in the pace of their breathing. As they rounded the next turn, she pointed:
"Look it's still here, see...that little summer house just off the path ahead."
"You have a good memory," he smiled and they walked briskly hand in hand.
"No, I'm just well prepared," she giggled, pulling a key from her purse and handing it to him. Her hand rested on his shoulder as he fumble with the key, nervous with anticipation. Behind him she slipped her hand under his jacket and placed her hands on his thighs. She fitted her form to his bent shape and, brushing his hair aside, started to kiss his neck. He liked that. He inhaled and leaned back against her even though the constant kisses to the back of his neck weren't helping their entry.
Kissing him again, her tongue entwining with his. Lust roared through his veins, leaving the knees weak, the stomach clenching. Finally the key slipped into the lock and the door swung open suddenly. Surprised he half fell, half staggered back against her. He pushed her up against the wall and his hands roved over her breasts, her back. She dropped her purse, pulling him forward in passionate embrace. They became a kiss. The taste of her, the smell of her hair. Tongues twisting, they fell back across the bed. His hands roved everywhere,eventually riding up her skirt to feel the warm, bare dampness there.
"Did you find something you wanted?" she laughed.
"Oh yes" he breathed, "Oh yes!"
He whisked her briskly off her feet and carried her quickly through the door. Her arms around his neck she covered him with kisses, up and down his neck and all around his ears. When he lowered her to her feet, they were kissing frantically, longing to feel each other's flesh, described in love letters and poems over the hours, days and weeks now that they had been apart.
"There, now we have some privacy, let's add a little light" she said turning to light several scented candles and placing them in little dishes around the room. He saw her frown in the dim light and turn away from him.
"What's the matter," he asked.
"I can't believe that I have you entirely to myself?"she answered, taking his right hand and moving it onto her left thigh. Their eyes locked in silence, as he ran his hand up against her skirt. As she moved her legs farther open, his fingertips touched her soft thigh.
"Of course you do," he lied, sighing and swinging his other arm around her shoulders. He pulled her into his body.
"Are you quite sure?" she teased, remembering how mendacious he had been in the past. She tilted her head back tempting him. He responded by bringing his mouth down onto hers in a passionate kiss.
He nodded and, suddenly, everything about him seemed to attract her like a moth to a flame as they pulled each other close once again, their skin seemingly melting into one another, fusing into a common body, as they touched. Kissing each other hard now, they rubbed their bodies together passionately wanting to experience everything they had missed over the last few years. His hardness throbbed against her, and he could virtually feel her wetness through both layers of their clothing.
He made to remove her blouse and stood for a moment, marvelling at the sight of her breasts, barely contained within the confining bodice. She removed his jacket and unbuttoned the cotton shirt, fumbling nervously. He started to unclip her bodice, while burying his tongue in the shell-like contours of her ear. When for the first time he heard that low moan, he nearly came. Their bodies shivered together.
Her hands completed the unfastening of the clips that held her now aching breasts captive, straining not to rush or spoil the spell of seduction she was weaving. She sighed with release as the constricting garment fell to the floor with a soft sound. Her fingers began to stroke her breasts lightly, fingering her now hardened, rosy tipped breasts.
His hand moved instinctively towards her warm and inviting flesh. Running his fingers along the length of her torso he was able to merge with her, gently feeling her breasts, the two points up high and tight. He nuzzled them, the cleft between them, tasting faintly of soap and perfume on his tongue.
She looked down at him and smiled. Fingers fumbling, he lifted each breast. He stroked her erect beneath his palms. The round softness of her breasts against his wrists. Trailing downward, ever downward, feeling her quicken as he touched her. His fingers ever exploring, kissing her body, he felt the silkiness of her skin, the curves and angles defining her stomach, tasting the warm smooth skin of her belly. So delicate.
Her breathing seemed to rush onward uncontrollably now and her heart pounded nineteen to the dozen in her chest, beating out a furious rhythm. She reached that pounding climax of desire and then rested, silent and unmoving in that state of semi-consciousness -- a lulling postscript to love.
He watched her stretched out there before him, wondering if she would stir as his finger gently traced the outline of her eyebrow. The digit descended tracing the shape of her nose, the softness of her cheek, the fullness of her lips and the quaintness of her dimpled chin. Finally, it came to rest in the small hollow of her neck. Shivers of anticipation permeated his awareness. It was as if he was being guided, led by some inner urge to the core of her being.
He moved and she felt the lightness of his hand skimming the surface of her cheek, his fingertips gently following the sloping curve of her lips. So gentle, welcome and inviting. He couldn't help but respond to their fullness and could only recall them swollen with expressed desire as he moved in to view from a closer angle.
Ahhh, to taste them again.
Suddenly, his train of thought was broken by a slight upward pull on each side of her lips. She was smiling again. A distinctly lascivious, almost lecherous smile that erupted in his mind to break his concentration on her other features completely. He focused on her mouth and allowed her thoughts to run free escape from her mind and to hover over the ensnaring of his determination in her smile.
She wondered if she would ever allow him to discover the many promising secrets that this very smile held? Would he ever, with his sundry conjurings, uncover how much she ached to have them exposed?
His hand was gripping her arm firmly now, sending feelings coursing throughout her body. She nestled against him, murmuring gently and appreciatively as his lips moved down onto her craning neck. He felt her hand begin undoing the belt on his trousers. With a dexterity that surprised him, she next undid the button on her first attempt and drew his zipper down.
"Did she do this then?" She quizzed, letting her head rest against his shoulder, feeling for his inevitable reaction. He shook his head and as a reward, when his swollen member sprang into view, she reached out immediately and gripped it with her left hand.
"Or this?" her grip causing him to sigh, as she began slowly stroking his shaft . He turned towards her and kissed her, as she kept up her slow oscillating motion.
"We can't leave you like this, can we?" she joked, forestalling his answer by letting her tongue slide briefly into his mouth to tangle with his in a dance of desire. She broke their liplock and gasped for air. Then she followed his gaze down to look again at the stiff manhood that she clutched.
"What are we going to do with this then?"
"You're going to have to take care of that for me... but...."
He let the implication hang in the air. She smiled knowing how to respond. He was instinctive in his desires and before he could give a clearer indication, she had slid her head down the front of his shirt toward his sex. She shifted her body around, so she was perpendicular to him, on her hands and knees on the wide bench seat, her face hovering over the top of his excitement. He watched as her soft lips pressed against his spongy head as she kissed it tenderly a few times.
He ran his left hand down her back as her tongue begin flicked out onto the top and then trace the undersides of his blood-engorged crown. Sliding her hand down to the base, she pressed her lips wide over him and slowly lowered her face. He pulled her hair away from her face with his right hand and watched her stuffed lips slide down his shaft. She took about four inches into her mouth and then began stroking the bottom, while her talented tongue went to work.
"Mmmm, oh, .......that's it. Mmmmm....mmmm......yes," his usual articulate self degenerated by the pleasure she brought to him.
He ran his left hand further down her back and pulled her riding skirt up over her bottom. He ran his hand over her exposed backside; her cheeks felt like small throw pillows, incredibly soft and pliant through the thin material. She could feel his fingers moving again to pleasure her and she spread her knees as far apart on the seat as possible. His hot, earthy taste filled her mouth to capacity - exciting, nasty, overpoweringly desirable.
He confirmed this by sliding two fingers into her, pressing them in and out. He could feel her squeeze his skillful digits as she continued to swirl wetly over him, while her small hand beat a steady pace from the base up to her packed lips. He was enthralled and giddy at the sight of her. He could hardly help himself as he placed his right hand on the back of her pitching head in preparation. He leaned his head back on the seat and watched her, sucking and tasting.
As if mesmerised by the sight, she let her eyes rove over every visible inch of his exposed masculine flesh until her breath began to come in shivering gasps. She heard the soft whisper of his warm breath making her own inhalation catch in her throat with surprised delight.
"Should I massage you more firmly?" she asked, imagining how good it would feel to enfold its length into her mouth's intimate embrace.
Noting that he said nothing, nor made any move to come to her, she gradually felt the urge to put on a show for him and thus to enjoy the spontaneous and romantic scene that he'd arranged for her to the full. She reached a hand up to the back of her neck, slowly withdrawing the pins that held her mass of curls in place. Placing the pins down on a little table next to the couch, she picked up a novel, a novel that she, herself had placed there the day before. Laughing, she turned to him, letting him see the cover for a moment.
"Should I 'wriggle around upon your lap, until my thigh length skirt slides up enough to reveal all that lies beneath its black concealment' darling," she grinned up at him, a wicked giggle in the back of her throat that erupted as a sensual growl.
She lifted her head and kiss him hard, her tongue snaked into his mouth, dancing with his as she shifted position ever so slightly, their bodies tingling with the slight friction these movements produce. With a soft, whisper that caused goose-flesh to run over his body, her hair cascaded down over her shoulders and back in a gleaming curtain of silkiness. He remained silent.
"I seem to be enjoying this 'love torture' much more than you," she murmured undulating her hips against his, her mouth sliding from his to rain tongue lashes across his chin, throat, and around to the sensitive flesh of his earlobes.
"Hey, darling 'Can you feel my dripping sex so close, and yet so far from where you want it to be?' Mmmmmmmm?" she teased, whispering a giggly breath of seduction into one of his ears, as her tongue traced the edge, then darted inside it. She looked to the book again and giggled again: "Does'It seem to you that my whole body is shaking with repressed desire?' Mmmmmmmm?"
"Do you want more than this?" she whispered, her voice a husky whip that flays his passion seared senses, accepting his nod of assent for no words are needed.
"Yes and less of the quotes from that goddamn awful romantic novel."
"Didn't she write it?"
"You are asking for a spanking."
"Me? No you're the one who should be spanked for abandoning me for that awful novelist. How could you?"
He blushed and she laughed again. Her laughter was broken by the door to the summer house swinging open of its own accord and a cool breeze flowing past them. They started, feeling as if she was there for a moment, holding their breaths in anticipation of her shrill rebukes.
There was only the sound of the shared exhalation of the two lovers. The flickering candle flames danced in the gust of air and cast a golden glow across his now flushed cheeks, lining her body with a radiant halo of light. She inhaled deeply at the touch of cool air brushing against the swell of her bared breasts, realizing only now, how sensuously mere air could caress her.
They were both breathing heavily as she slid her hands behind her back to slowly unbutton her long black riding skirt. She pulled it from her body, slipping it down over her gently rounded hips, letting it slide over the silken slip, until it landed in a dark puddle at her ankles. From where he kneeled on the floor helping her out of her skirt and then the underskirt, he looked up at her. He took in her thighs, the shadow between her legs, the soft belly, the roundness of her breast, the arch of her neck and then, gazing up into her eyes, saw the desire displayed in her shining eyes.
Turning to place her back to him, as he lay watching every move she made, she bent over and ran her hands over her buttocks, slipping her stockings down the length of her slender legs; her smooth white rump beckoned him.
Looking at him devilishly from between her legs, her face partly hidden by the silken curtain of her hair, she straightened abruptly. She allowed him to feast his eyes on her now gloriously naked form, turning slowly to face him once more, letting one hand slide, almost casually downward, the palm leaving a trail of goose-bumps across her abdomen, stopping to rest just above the soft mound of pelvic curls that nestled between her creamy thighs.
As she gazed into his passion glazed eyes from her place where she stood at the end of the bed, she let her one hand continue its downward travels, a finger slipping within her own secret folds to pleasure herself as he watched, enraptured. Her head arched back, as beads of sweat sprung out across her chest and glistened in the flickering light across her stomach, as her own hand wove intimacy between her thighs.
Her breath began to come in laboured gasps and her knees trembled as her free hand fondled her breasts, arousing her febrile desires. With eyes still closed, and her other senses blinded by her mounting ecstasy, she never heard the soft rustle of her mattress moving, or the soft tread of her lover's feet as he stepped soundlessly over to where she stood. With abrupt reversal of roles, he became the aggressor.....tired of merely watching.
His mouth sought and captured hers in a ravenous kiss. Their tongues touched, withdrawing then eagerly melding as one. Hands roved across her now sweat misted skin, as hers caressed his strong shoulders, fingers tracing the firm line of his jaw, running through his curly, brown hair.
Her nails raked lightly down across his back, as his tongue relinquished its possession of her mouth and instead fell to ravaging her sensitive earlobes, neck and throat....stopping to pay homage to the fluttering pulse point that mirrored the thundering beat of her racing heart. Her lips nibbled upon his ears as well, his neck, his face, covering it with feathery kisses. Each touch fanning their mutual desire until it threatened to consume them utterly.
Soon he made to caress and kiss those supple breasts he had dreamed so much about. Sucking each nipple into his mouth and taking it lightly between his teeth so he could lick it softly. He could hear her breath quicken with each stroke of his tongue and his own heart now pounded hard within his chest.
He sat her on the edge of the couch, kneeling before her absorbing the silence and the warmth in her eyes. He gazed steadfastly at her loving eyes, as he slowly kissed his way up the back of her knee, her inner thigh, hands running up her hips. He only stopped when he reached the sacred triangle to plant a kiss on the swollen outer lip of her waiting sex.
He continued looking into her eyes as he parted her lips and ran his tongue the full length of her now soaked slit. Her eyes closed tightly as his tongue circled, without ever touching, his breath warm against her pubic mound. As his tongue finally began to delve there, she emitted a soft gasp. He closed his eyes to savour her, listening to the gentle exhalation of air. She tasted far more delicious than he could ever have imagined. Her sweetness reminded him of his first taste of the flesh of a peach.
Her hips were already thrusting rapidly as he finally sucked her swollen desire into his mouth, licking at her furiously. Her thighs squeezing his head tightly as she ground her hips into his face. Her body began to quiver and he could feel the first, yet lightest of many excitements ran through her. It was almost more than he could take. Without even the slightest touch he could have come for the first time. Yet, he wanted to concentrate on her and withheld his own satisfaction and pleasure for a little while longer.
He pulled himself up against her and face to face, they were soon pressing even closer, chests, hips and thighs molded together. They both could feel the other's need: she in the rigidity of his organ against her inner thigh, and he by the rock hard presence of her nipples rubbing across his chest.
Under his weight, silently, in unspoken agreement, she lay back upon the feather coverlet, as the scent of roses from the flowers outside the summer house mingled with the perfume from the candles and that of their own heated flesh. His fingers danced down the inside edges of her arms, followed by his lips, leaving their own trail of sensual fire that seared her senses and branded her as his love. She reached down to pull his mouth to hers, her tongue licking playfully at his lower lip, tracing the edge erotically, feeling him tremble in her embrace.
He could feel the subtle undulation of her hips beneath his own and ached to bury his need in the warmth, and moist darkness of her inner folds. He promised himself that tonight, she was the one who'd be begging for release from his gentle brand of sensual torture before he was finished. Loving every inch of her, from the top of her head, crowned by its shimmering waves of sweet scented coppery tresses, to the tips of her delicate toes, his hands, lips and tongue memorized every curve, hollow, and swell of her glorious body.
Drawing her to the peak of her desire and need time upon time and then slowly easing her back down, denying her true release time and again, he sought take her to a level of pleasure never before attained in their love-making. She shuddered and gasped, begged, cursed and sobbed for him to cease this unbearably cruel, yet sweet torture, but it was as if he'd lost his hearing all of a sudden. Her hands strained to reach him, to pleasure him, to make him ease his sensual assault upon her, but his strong hands pinned both wrists to the bed as he rose up over her, totally in command. His emerald eyes flashed with the desire that he felt, tempered by love and affection; yet for the time being, the passion within him reigned.
Her hips thrust upwards, trying to make contact and to coax him inside; she needed him to assuage the flaring heat and pulsing, white-hot need that screamed through her veins and exploded behind her closed eyes in a display of multihued lights. Every nerve within her throbbed and every muscle shuddered as his lips finally reached their ultimate goal. With fierce sensual intent, his tongue lightly brushed against one inner thigh, then the other; his soft breath whispering against her overheated flesh threatening to drive her over sanity's precipice.
Gently stroking, fingers parting flesh, probing...invading. Her thighs tightening under his touch. She moaned and sighed in pleasure. Her curls were tickling his face. He tasted her sweet moisture, tongue lapping between the folds and lingering on her. Eagerly, greed for the pleasure, she gripped his head with both hands. Her thighs squeezing him tightly, she bucked against him groaning in ecstasy, her pelvis rocking as the spasms took hold of her.
By the very edge of her fingernails and sheer strength of an indomitable will, she was able to retain a vestige of control. In her eyes, a complete surrender was not allowed. To let the innermost walls and defenses she'd built around her heart crumble was not acceptable. She relaxed and a few minutes later, yet again her body arched, racked with pleasure. Finally he could no longer lick. as simple as that. He sat back and looked at her, lying there, all damp and glowing. Opening her passion glazed eyes, she looked into the loving eyes of the man who was now seeking to break into the bastion of her control. She could see a promise in his eyes of what he intended to do continue doing until she surrendered, she gasped in incredulity.
She accepted him willingly, wantonly and undertook his caresses with an entirely new awareness. The everyday cares and tensions finally faded away, replaced by a warmth and fullness never before dreamt of. Her body responded by shivering and shuddering, as her heart raced and threatened to fly out of her chest with joy! She cried out his name again and again as his tongue and lips plundered her secret treasure, sending ecstasy throbbing throughout every fibre of her being, setting her soul and heart ablaze with pleasure and love.
Lost in the bottomless, sparking gray pools of emotion contained in his gleaming eyes, touching him, she sighed. All the stones in her personal fortress, finally went crashing down around her. Her heart thundered in her chest, free at last. With a wild laugh, she gave in at last to total abandon, surrendered herself to temptation. Pausing only to lift his head from where it'd been deliciously nestled between her velvet smooth thighs, he slid up and joined with her as their mouths met and tongues twined together in a fretful danced. He rocked back and slid himself between her hot, wet lower folds, again and again, increasing his force and tempo as her hips lifted and met each powerful thrust, her arms embracing his shoulders, her upper body arched in the throes of delight.
His lips sought her ears, her forehead, her throat, licking, and nibbling. His tongue claimed one nipple, drawing into it a fullness so complete that it bordered on pain, then moved to do the same to the other one. His rhythm never slowed however, his powerful thrusts never faltered. The tip of his shaft pressed against her, as her muscles clench around him, stroking his silky power from within. She shuddered at the heat, the fullness of him and arches her back, offering my proud breasts to his seeking mouth.
She quivered, as the wet heat of his mouth closed blessedly over one taut nipple and began to suckle lingeringly upon its rosy flesh, a tongue swirling around the peak. The flick across the very tip continued until flashes of white hot electricity spiked through her. From groin to chest and back, her need centered on the pulsing strength of your hardness buried in her throbbing heat.
Closing her eyes, she offered herself up to the moment entirely, and ride up and down, forward and back, stirring him inside her, to the point that reality is a fond memory and a feverish ecstasy is her sole mistress. She shakes uncontrollably, as her passion mounts. His mouth slides from one breast, across to the other, as one of his hands slips down to finger her mercilessly, making her beg for release from pleasure.
With him buried deep in her tight hot sheath, her juices making them slide as one together, muscles caressing from within, thighs caressing from without, rising higher and higher, only aware of the touch of one another, massaging until both scream for release. His mouth ruthlessly seeks hers, his tongue capturing her and holding it prisoner. Then, abruptly, her body shivers violently, pleasure washing through her, bathing her in a sheen of sweat, but still she slides down harder upon him. She reached up for him and, pulling him forward, whispered: "Come, I want you inside me."
Face to face, luxuriating in the taste of her on his tongue, he reached down to guide himself into her. Her entire body was suffused with warmth and peace, as if she were capable of soaring without wings, as wave after relentless wave of energy and erotic sensation, flowed through her. He entered her in one smooth motion. She cried out at the sudden penetration, but immediately relaxed, enjoying the sensations of fullness. She pushed herself against him, wanting him pressed into the depths of her. She moved with him, the desperation of passion warring with the shore of irrational fear. Slowly, her insistent passion eroded to the centre of her being, the fierceness of the storm paled beside the fires building in their slow kisses and motion.
She could hear the gentle squeaking of the couch, above even her soft sighs. His joining with her exorcised the petty demons of her jealousy. He changed the tempo and pushing forward slowly, he eased into her again. He marvelled at how it felt as though he were encased in warm, slick velvet, pressing in all around him. Slowly, he began thrusting in and out again, all the way in and almost all the way out in long fluid strokes. She began moving her hips to match his and soon she was moaning and sighing as they thrust against each other.
"Oh yes, this is as close to heaven as I'll ever get," he thought, feeling the tingling and the pressure signaling his own release building up. Faster and faster he thrust madly into the welcoming depths She looked up at him and wrapped her legs tighter around his hips,inhaling sharply, thrusts ever wilder, ever deeper as if he was trying to fit more of his self inside of her.
"Wait," she said, panting, 'I'm almost there, just a little more!"
He tried to hold on, tightening his abdominal muscles and he felt her clamp down as she cried out. Breathing in great ragged gasps, he thrust deep inside her and held still. The waves built until she felt him stiffen inside of her with a muffled cry, spilling gently into her. His final deep thrust had sent her cascading over the valleys and mountaintops of her onrushing climax. As she arched into him, her head fell back into the pillows, a bright light illuminated her senses. As she screamed out his name, he embraced her, driving its bass into her core, joining her cry of triumph and pleasure.
She fell against his chest, his arms around her, his palms resting on my backside, cupping her. Her breasts pressed against him, feeling the thundering rhythm of his heartbeat as his body offers itself up to her in complete surrender. She held him, as the final shivering and shaking of their flesh at long last subsides. After a few minutes, she raised her head to look into his eyes, a light of affection, and satisfaction mirrored in both their gazes. In the silence there was tenderness as he leant down to kiss her. They lay together a little while, a gloriously sticky mess, as he shrank inside her until, eventually, he pulled out. They nestled there like spoons, and, again, his hand rested on her shoulder.
"Hmm, that was so nice," She whispered, kissing his mouth gently as they lay entwined, needs released and love expressed and reaching down to take him in her mouth again. He looked down at her face again just in time to see her cheeks become concave as she sucked him up down her pretty throat.
"Get every drop," he encouraged her as she coaxed more sap from him and she just looked and smiled.
"I've got you too," she thought, knowing that he was hers now and the other woman was truly erased from his mind. Without another thought, she turned towards him slowly, drawing him down upon her. There, decisively, in the darkened room of his mind and their reality, she allowed herself to steal him back.
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