His finger, long and sculpted, curved down her pubic bone, inching closer to the apex of her sex. It finally landed with a flutter, gradually sliding over and around its button, aided by the slippery moisture seeping from her body. His other hand continued to circle her nipples, the friction hardening their flesh as he moved back and forth to stimulate them. Quiet, panting moans seeped from her throat, the volume and intensity slowly increasing as his fingers deftly moved across chest and between her legs.
She leaned back slightly, opening the space between her thighs, taking her right hand into her panties to find his, moving his fingers further down to the wet slit of her vulva, tiptoeing them inside the hot ocean raging inside. She gasped as his fingers filled her, sliding along her inner walls, his flesh sparking waves of pleasure that rippled up through her legs, settling in her abdomen. As his fingers gained speed, her body whipped into a frenzy, a hurricane slowly increasing in power and force. Her left hand nestled itself into his hair, slowly winding his tresses around her fingers, as her other hand removed itself from between her thighs and reached out to take his chin in her palm, stroking his cheek with tender motions, drawing his face close, finding his lips with her own. He breathed her in, and could taste each her emotions: longing, lust, affection and vulnerability. Her lips quivered slightly, her mouth opening and closing with a rhythm syncopated to his hand, tongues caressing as his fingers pressed forward and back. She removed her hand from his hair, sliding along his chest, grazing his shirt, resting her fingertips on his tiny nipple bud, massaging, then running them down his belly, feeling slight soft, flesh at the line of his belt. Her lips disentangled from his for a moment, her mouth leaning to his ear, her warm breath falling upon his neck like quiet snow. “Can I stroke you?” she asked breathlessly, and he moved his hand from her nipple to her shoulder, half embracing to bring her close, whispering, “Please.” Her mouth sought his out again, wanting to inhale every inch of him in every rise and fall of her chest. Her hand began to fumble with his belt buckle, freeing it from its lock, the straps falling open. She carefully took his button between her fingers and released it, continuing downward to his zipper, its teeth making a quiet grating sound as it unfolded. She walked her fingers into the newly unfastened space, feeling his flesh rise and harden beneath her fingertips, her nails skimming across the fabric housing his member, gradually upping the pressure as his body responded. For a moment, as the fervor of his hand inside her burst into a short dash, she paused, her hand trembling. In response, she gripped him gently, finally sliding his shorts down to extricate him, feeling his muscle reach upward under her tender touch. She wrapped her fingers around him, fondling his flesh with delicate joy. She loved the weight of him in her hand, how her fingers molded around his shape, as if he melted into the crevices of her palm. It felt so natural to touch him, like his skin always belonged inside her own, as if the heat rising from the back and forth of her hand was like the sun creeping across the landscape, igniting it with golden fire. As his hand moved inside her, her hand caressed him, developing a syncopated rhythm. Her body weeped onto his fingers, and she felt him become rigid beneath her touch, but with fleshy give, as if she were carving him from soapstone with her hand. His belly lit on fire from her contact, feeling erratic notes escape his throat and mouth as he gasped with pleasure. He sought her eyes with his own, and she returned the glance, almost trance-like, swept away by the pleasure rippling through her body. He thought he could melt into her eyes in that moment, disappearing entirely into mist, every inch of his body fusing into her own, wanting nothing more than to feel every wave of what she was experiencing, every pulse of pleasure radiating from his hand. He settled for drawing her close, foreheads touching, their breath mingling between them in hot, invisible clouds, finally drawing his eyes closed as his lips pressed her own, feeling his own existence fall away as she returned the advance, feeling his body dissolve into her mouth cell by cell by cell. Comments are closed.
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AuthorReflections of a woman spawned in a cement cocoon... Archives
August 2023
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