If This is All, Then All Is Good {2/3}afterandalasiaJuly 17 2011, 16:17:02 UTC
"I can't decide. I take hold of your breasts, let them fill my hands. They're warm and full and I rub them, letting my thumbs brush over your nipples. I kiss them through the fabric of your dress, use my tongue to make them wet." The words tumble forth from his desire. "The music outside is too loud for anyone to hear anyway."
"That's a good thing. Because I'm already moaning when I feel your tongue on my breasts. The fabric clings to my skin as I run my hands over your back, then pull you up to kiss you, and at the same time I let my dress slip down to the floor."
"Even better," he says. "Because that means that I can see your beautiful body, and I'll stop just long enough to look it all up and down. And then I'm going to lick my way down your neck, down between your breasts, and all the way down to your navel." He paused to hear her breathing, as harsh as his own in the closed room. "And then I'm going to kneel down and go from each knee upwards, right up to where your hips."
"You're overdressed," she points out.
"Then how about I let you take my clothes off as well?"
"It's about time we did."
"Are you wet already?"
He can hear the smirk in her voice. "I've been wet since you kissed me in front of everyone. I've been trying not to let it show all evening how much I want to get into your bed."
"Then maybe we should. I pull you over to the bed and let you lie down among the sheets. It's been worth the wait. I kiss you again as I slip my hand down between your thighs."
"You do?"
"Tell me what I find there."
A little whine comes out when she breathes. Phoebus wishes that he could get his hands free to hold her, or failing that to wrap one hand around the erection that is straining at his own lap.
"Tell me," he says again, a little more insistent, a little more pleading.
"I let your hand slide down across my belly," she says, "down, down. Your fingers part the black curls that cover my sex, slipping down across my skin. My slit is already slick; I've been waiting for this, for so long. I tilt my hips up towards you so that you can, oh god, so that you can explore me."
"I'm doing just as you say." The words come out breathless.
"I tell you to run your fingers over my clit; it isn't hard to find it. You can hear when your fingers touch it, I moan, and you continue. Every little circle you rub is like fire running through me, and I tell you not to stop." He can hear now that she is breathing hard, and can imagine the heat in her. He wonders whether she has her legs clamped tightly together, whether every little shift of her body is bringing her pleasure. "But you slide your hand down instead, and as I moan you put your finger into me. I can feel you inside me now, and I squeeze around you. You whisper in my ear how hot I feel, how wet, as slowly you begin to fuck me with your hand."
He hears her gasp, wonders whether she is straining against the manacles as he is, whether she can all but feel his body as he can feel hers.
"But I'm not going to let you have all the fun," she adds. "I'll reach down for you in return. Tell me what to do. Tell me."
"Well, I'm pretty sure you've already got a good look," he says with a chuckle, and hears her laugh softly in time. "I'm already hard as you wrap your hand around my shaft -- my skin is already flushed, warm under your hand, as you stroke up and down." The rushing in his ears, the words that they speak, carry him far away from this hellhole. "Your fingers explore the head, making me groan, yes, carry on, and as you trace over the slit, fingers already growing sticky, I cannot but admit that I want you."
Esmeralda moans again, and it sends a jolt of need through him. He wonders what she might look like now, her face flushed, curls sticking to her cheeks, lips parted and red. "I couldn't agree more. I want you."
"I pin you down into the sheets."
"My legs wrap around your hips."
"I lick the side of your neck, kiss your ear, as gently I nudge the head of my cock against your entrance."
"Can't you tell that I want you now? My hips buck to meet you."
She's panting; he realises a moment later that he is also, and it feels like he is trembling all over. "Then I bury myself to the hilt in you, deep in, feeling you."
"That's a good thing. Because I'm already moaning when I feel your tongue on my breasts. The fabric clings to my skin as I run my hands over your back, then pull you up to kiss you, and at the same time I let my dress slip down to the floor."
"Even better," he says. "Because that means that I can see your beautiful body, and I'll stop just long enough to look it all up and down. And then I'm going to lick my way down your neck, down between your breasts, and all the way down to your navel." He paused to hear her breathing, as harsh as his own in the closed room. "And then I'm going to kneel down and go from each knee upwards, right up to where your hips."
"You're overdressed," she points out.
"Then how about I let you take my clothes off as well?"
"It's about time we did."
"Are you wet already?"
He can hear the smirk in her voice. "I've been wet since you kissed me in front of everyone. I've been trying not to let it show all evening how much I want to get into your bed."
"Then maybe we should. I pull you over to the bed and let you lie down among the sheets. It's been worth the wait. I kiss you again as I slip my hand down between your thighs."
"You do?"
"Tell me what I find there."
A little whine comes out when she breathes. Phoebus wishes that he could get his hands free to hold her, or failing that to wrap one hand around the erection that is straining at his own lap.
"Tell me," he says again, a little more insistent, a little more pleading.
"I let your hand slide down across my belly," she says, "down, down. Your fingers part the black curls that cover my sex, slipping down across my skin. My slit is already slick; I've been waiting for this, for so long. I tilt my hips up towards you so that you can, oh god, so that you can explore me."
"I'm doing just as you say." The words come out breathless.
"I tell you to run your fingers over my clit; it isn't hard to find it. You can hear when your fingers touch it, I moan, and you continue. Every little circle you rub is like fire running through me, and I tell you not to stop." He can hear now that she is breathing hard, and can imagine the heat in her. He wonders whether she has her legs clamped tightly together, whether every little shift of her body is bringing her pleasure. "But you slide your hand down instead, and as I moan you put your finger into me. I can feel you inside me now, and I squeeze around you. You whisper in my ear how hot I feel, how wet, as slowly you begin to fuck me with your hand."
He hears her gasp, wonders whether she is straining against the manacles as he is, whether she can all but feel his body as he can feel hers.
"But I'm not going to let you have all the fun," she adds. "I'll reach down for you in return. Tell me what to do. Tell me."
"Well, I'm pretty sure you've already got a good look," he says with a chuckle, and hears her laugh softly in time. "I'm already hard as you wrap your hand around my shaft -- my skin is already flushed, warm under your hand, as you stroke up and down." The rushing in his ears, the words that they speak, carry him far away from this hellhole. "Your fingers explore the head, making me groan, yes, carry on, and as you trace over the slit, fingers already growing sticky, I cannot but admit that I want you."
Esmeralda moans again, and it sends a jolt of need through him. He wonders what she might look like now, her face flushed, curls sticking to her cheeks, lips parted and red. "I couldn't agree more. I want you."
"I pin you down into the sheets."
"My legs wrap around your hips."
"I lick the side of your neck, kiss your ear, as gently I nudge the head of my cock against your entrance."
"Can't you tell that I want you now? My hips buck to meet you."
She's panting; he realises a moment later that he is also, and it feels like he is trembling all over. "Then I bury myself to the hilt in you, deep in, feeling you."
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