On the cold nights the fire would blaze, warming the cold room, but never his cold heart. So often he would sit in one of his overstuffed wing-backed chairs relaxing from whatever day had preceded him. So often he would sit there staring deeply into a fire. He would study the flames and the way they danced over its victim, carefully plotting its next move darting in and over each grain, with the inclination of flexibility of choice. Each night brought him nothing, even with his plan of finding what he didn’t have. Each night was the same cold night, and the only warmth was drawn from the flames of the diminishing wood.
Tonight was different. The setting was the same but the warmth was pulled between the coaxing fire and … her. She was fascinating just the same. She glowed and burned like the fire, feeding from the grains of his heart. She even felt like the fire, warm, exotic, and intoxicating.
He studied her, page by page, inch by inch. Her chocolate brown hair fell gracefully around her face and stopped around mid shoulder. It framed her delicate green eyes that could pierce any man’s heart. Her skin glowed in the fire light; it taunted anyone for a delicate touch.
Yet there he sat dumfounded by this mirage of perfection. His arms steadfast on the support of his chair, and his body pinned to its back. It was then her soft voice carried to his ears such a sweet sound that even Ulysses sirens’ could not compete with. “It dances….” Her eluding tone drifts off. Creating the ever more mysterious enchantment she somehow held over him. Her voice trailed off away from his ears. He continued to study her. Her long neck graced with a petite sliver necklace that trailed down to her cleavage. Her black blouse swept low on her right shoulder. Her red pencil skirt clung to her upper waist, hugged her upper thigh teetering away from her thighs to lengthen her already long legs.
She walked over to him, crossing her legs with each step. As she made her way over to him his blood began to rush from his head to his legs. She pulled her skit higher allotting her enough movement for her to straddle him. She rested her hand on the back of his chair slowly pulling her body into the sitting position on top of him. Her breasts brushed his face as she pulled down on top of him. Her hands drug down the chair and rested on his shoulders. She swung her head back and her hair followed in like motion. Her back was arched and her thighs squeezed his legs for balance. He could feel his pulse quicken and his mind began to release endorphins.
Her hands closed in on her blouse and she slowly began to unbutton it. He could see her inhaling deep breaths. Watching her chest rise and fall with a quicker motion. Her teal bra contrasted her skin accentuating each curve of her breast. Shedding her blouse he could not help but to notice the way the fire light in the room danced. So this is what she was speaking of. His pulsed raged and he couldn’t stand it any longer. He grabbed her strongly by the waist and stood up with her as tightly wrapped her legs around him.
Her head leaned into him and she playfully nipped his ear lobe. Her tongue darted in and out of his ear enticing each sexual desire. She played with his thoughts without even a word. He knelt down on the floor and gently laid her on her back. “Here let…” He stopped her mid sentence and placed his finger on her lips. “Don’t say anything, and don’t move” He placed her hands together and laid them above her head. His right finger traced down her left arm tickling her skin. He drew his finger along her clavicle and down her stomach. He unzipped her skirt and was pleased to find matching underwear. His manhood began to raise and show much more attention than before. He pulled her red skirt down to her ankles and slipped it off her body. His eyes feasted on her body. Her breaths steady, deep, and slow. He brought his lips to her thigh and drew up to her belly button. She giggled as his touch stimulated her mentality. As he glimpsed up to share in the laughter with her, it just happened so quickly. She sprang up to her knees and again she jumped on top of him. She pushed him down to the floor and with a mocking voice exclaimed, “Don’t say anything … and don’t move.” And he obeyed.
As she twisted slowly to an upward stance, he just laid there. As she straddled him in stance with her legs climbing above his body that attached to her slender waist; he watched as her hands looped behind her. With a quick motion, her hand then perched her shoulders delectably touching her shoulders. She seized the straps of her teal bra and pulled.
As what seemed to be imprisoned, was now set free. Her breasts fell not too far from where they were once perched. Her quarter sized nipples, pink and warm, stood alert and ready for his touch. Her hand pulled to the front of her chest grabbing her breasts and pulling them close together while taking a deep breath. It was harmonious the way she touched herself and rotated her hips in unison. Her hands clinched her skin as she began to crawl her fingers down her mid-drift. Her fingertips pointed down and slipped gracefully between her panty line and her skin. It seemed as complex as a magic trick. The teal and skin tone seemed as one, but it was so easily parted by something so simple. Her head rolled back as the outline of her right hand slipped deeper into her. He could see her fingers curl and disappear. He could only imagine where they could hide.
Again the rush of thirst pulsated. He felt him become harder and harder pressing against the cotton briefs. He was restricted by her weight from showing a full address. He knew the pleasure she had taken out of feeling him beneath her. Pushing closer to the sweet tender that she possessed, and he knew this because of the discrete outline of moisture lining the base of her underwear. Completely distracted by the motion of her fingers pushing in and pulling out, it was about envy. It was an Envy that he was not pulling in and out of her, pleasing her, loving her, wanting her.
She leaned in on top of him her breasts pulling close to his face, and with her left hand she slide it further down her legs pulling what restrained him from her, down her thigh, past her calf, and finally on his floor. It was then that the just began to feel how much she truly wanted him. His penis was cradled between her. It was warm, wet , and inviting.
He began to reach to complete the fact of her encompassing him, but once she saw his movement she quickly redirected his hands her the nape of her neck and her right breast. She whispered in a sultry voice, “savor it”. So he did. He sat up half mast and brought her lips to her. His touch was tickled by the tiny hairs that surrounded her nipple. His tongue began to taste, began to tantalize. Her soft moans reeked of the pleasure that both they dreamed of, but was muted.
As entranced with the touch being given, the firelight accentuating skin, and the passion being expressed, it went almost unnoticed as her body slightly adjusted upward and her hand proceeded to include him. She pulled him to a salute and proceeded to pull him into her. His head peaked into a small, warm, and wet quarters. It was tight and he was warmly welcomed. The feeling of being wanted is indescribable. She took in a long breath as she drew him deeper and deeper into her. Upon her exhale, he was drawn into her, loving, and feeling every inch of her.
His hands grasped her waist and followed the direction of her rotating hips. Pushing, pulling, grasping, and twining him. She stopped briefly an giggled, “what did I tell you about not moving.” She again pushed him down to the rug and shifted her weight to draw his hands above his head. She gave a quick wink and told him to again not move, and again he obeyed.
It was then that the obsession became a reality. It was a tango, but he was the one to follow. Her hands raised above her head crossing each other. When she drew them down she began to airlessly drift them down. Her hands led and her waist followed. Fluidly drifting down, one was in air and the other upon him. With this motion repeated he could feel himself swell inside her. Once she began to rock on top of him, it was then that he could take no more. He wanted her all to him. He wanted to take her to an ultimate ecstasy.
He sat up and pulled her close. He grabbed her to him and swung her to the right. She quickly flew to the floor where he continued to press in and out of her. She arched her back, and he thrusted himself in her. With each stroke he felt her. With each rap he stroke he understood the sensation that she presented him with, her clutch and his friction. The rythmatic feel of him pounding against her and her taking the lust he had for her. Moaning, quivering, enthralled in what he was giving her. “Oh, God” she cried and he plunged deeper into her. She took him, all of him with ultimate delight. Her body began to sweat. She entranced herself with him. Moving along with his blows, encountering ever feeling she could. Taking him in feeling every inch he would grant her.
It was then that she began to try to pull back in order to compose herself. He would not let her. He pulled her so close she felt his breath. His blood pumped in him and pulsated into her. He began to feel the release of himself, and she got off on the thought of him being in her. She called out his name in utter pleasure. Begging him not to stop, pleading with him to continue to finish her off. He could not desire anything more then to hear her call out his name. Demanding, commanding him to continue. Resume pleasing her.
He could not hold back any longer he had to give in. His body relaxed and he closed his eyes. Hastening forward he came. He cried out with the inclination she endowed him. As he felt himself release, he could feel her shake. First it started with her legs, then her body. She cries out. Screaming and indulging in what was she was able to take.
Dripping with the sweat he had created and the heat that was radiating from both of their bodies. There she lay panting. He brought himself to her chest in coordinates with her breath. Silence. Regulating what consciousness both refused to partake in. She pulls his chin in order for him to see her beaded face. With a mocking smile she professes, “again?”