She was asleep. She lay
sprawled on the bed, under a thin red veil, her arms thrown out, legs parted:
nude. The light threw rosy shadows on her flesh through the veil, deepening to
shades of crimson in the hollows and deep crevices of her body. Her soft, deep
breaths puffed out the silk over her face, first blurring, then accentuating
her features as she inhaled. She made a soft noise, turning her head towards
him. Lance knelt by the bed. He slid his cupped hand over her thigh, barely
stirring the fine silk, tracing the long contours of her legs with his
fingertips. He slid his fingers over her parted lips, the silk yielding,
moistening, darkening with her saliva. He crouched over her, breathing her in.
Delicately he licked at the wet silk over her mouth, felt her lips move in a
sigh.
He slid his mouth,
barely skimming the veil, over the side of her neck, he brushed at her
collarbones, her shoulders, leaving a dark moist kiss imprinted on the hollow
of her throat. He caressed the satiny flesh along her sides, sliding his mouth
along the sensitive under curve of her breast, watching her nipples swell under
the veil. He moved his mouth in a concentric spiral, his touch teasingly light,
flickered his tongue briefly at the nipple before dedicating himself to her other
breast. She moaned, moving restlessly and raised her knees, arching her back as
if inviting a lover. Lance suckled avidly at her nipples, feeling her tremble
under him, gasping his name.
“Hush, love, don’t move,
don’t open your eyes…” Lance husked. He slid his mouth further down, nipping at
the soft curves of her belly, delved at her navel, flickered downwards, felt
her whole body thrum. “Shhhh…Hush…” He ignored the dark shadow between her
legs, and licked at the soft, plump, flesh of her inner thighs, slowly nibbling
his way ever upwards, hearing her pant, tense with expectation. He eased gentle
fingers down into her cleft, brushing tense lips fleeting over her engorged
flesh, slow butterfly touches. He felt her pelvis rising under his mouth, her
veiled hands clasping at his head, pulling him closer. “If you move, I stop…”
Her hands fell away with a soft cry. Lance continued his leisurely caresses,
feeling the tension rising in her body to unbearable levels, he sat up slowly.
She lay dead still on the bed, her nails sunk into the mattress, her body tight
as a strung wire. Her ragged breath stirred her breasts, nipples erect, the
silk over them a wet dark crimson from his mouth. A low moan escaped her. Her
thighs trembled, the silk between them sodden from her arousal. He slid his
body over hers, the slithering silk a maddening caress against his erection.
“Help me, my love …” He
felt her hands close around him, as he grasped at the veil and pulled it up to
her waist. She pulled him closer, arching her body, rubbing his cock against
her wetness teasingly; rubbing his heated gland against her soaked cleft,
positioning him at her slippery opening. He felt her thrust upwards, her heat
encompassing him, scalding him. Her impossibly tight silken sheath was suckling
at him, her softness cradling him. He was moving, mindlessly, artlessly; like a
boy with his first woman; rising, calling her name, falling from some
unimaginable height into darkness.
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"Guilty Pleasures - The Food and Fornication Fables"
TODAY
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