Desert Oasis Ch. 06: Coffee and Cum

Suddenly she began inhaling and exhaling rapidly, punctuated with a deep, guttural, "Mmmmmm," as she orgasmed a third time.

Tossing her head back, she let out a, "Ha, aha ha ha," pleased with herself and this morning's proceedings. I kissed her neck, faintly lapping the salty sexy perspiration from her skin. She tilted her head 'til our eyes met.

Gesturing to our mugs on the bar, I cooed, "Coffee's probably cold. Care for a fresh cup?"

"Please!" Then, rasping her nails delicately along the length of my taut erection, asked, "Got any cream for me, baby?"

"I'm certain that can be arranged."

Her fingertips slid off the crown my erection as I pulled away from her. As I rounded the bar, I caught her looking down, examining herself.

"Ugh, I need to clean up," attempting to wipe as much of her essence off her thighs and vulva as she could. She hopped up. "Yah, it's running down my legs!" My cock spasmed involuntarily at her words.

"Why do you hurt me so?" I chided her jokingly.

"Just toss me a towel," she replied in lighthearted exacerbation.

"Uh..." I scanned the kitchenette quickly. "Don't have one. Only paper."

"OK. Be right back." She padded off to the master bathroom, nude, walking on the balls of her feet, her breasts swaying.

I dumped our original cups of coffee in the sink, and refilled with fresh. I stared at her cup for a moment, thinking of the minxy comment she made before, and cautiously wrapped my hand around my cock. Hot in my hand, I stroked lightly, feeling it swell wider in my grip, thinking, "Should I or shouldn't I?"

The sound of her footsteps as she strode from the master suite through the living room snapped me out of my own head. Without looking back to the kitchenette, she headed straight for the patio door and, sliding it open, walked purposefully for the patio set, plonking herself assuredly in one of the chairs.

The desert's morning air, already heated, poured into the living area. I followed her with our coffee and, approaching on her left side, set her cup on the table with my left hand. In doing so, my penis pointed at her accusingly, pleadingly, at eye level. I could see her feasting visually. She sat up, interested.

"I like you better hard."

"Really! You don't say!" I retorted with mocking disbelief.

"No, I mean, just to look at. I like you better hard. Your cock is perfectly shaped. Very statuesque." She feathered the pad of her left index finger appreciatively, adoringly, along the length of my pulsing erection, from where its smooth skin emerges from the chaotic curls of my pubic hair, over the Fordyce spots, around the rim of my corona and over the head. "It's beautiful, if I can say that without sounding weird."

"Well, thank you," I said sheepishly. "It doesn't sound weird at all. I'm glad you think so." While embarrassed by her kind words, it was also powerfully arousing. "I do my best not to disappoint."

"You haven't yet. Hopefully I don't."

At that moment, a bead of precum fell from my cock and splashed on her knee. "You haven't yet," I said, acknowledging the humor of the timing.

I grabbed my chair and spun it facing hers. I sat unabashedly at the edge of my seat, my legs apart, allowing her to enjoy me as she pleased.

The seating afforded me a full view of her too. I looked deep in her eyes. We kept our gaze for what seemed like minutes, rarely blinking, taking restorative sips of our coffee without averting our eyes.

I heard a faint buzzing in the distance. "Is that your phone?" I asked, both unsure and ill pleased that the spell of the moment had been broken. Turning her ear to the open patio door, she paused, then hopped up, fleetingly kissing me and wrapping her right hand around my cock, and trotted inside to get the phone.

As she took the call, I put my feet up in her chair, crossing them at my ankles. Leaning back, I sipped my coffee, closed my eyes and breathed in the desert fragrances. Daubing my right index finger in my own oil, I lazily glided my fingertip up and down the side of my cock, enjoying the sensation, the percolating urgency, my hardness.

She returned, patting my calf in a request to reclaim her chair. Her eyes locked on my idle ministrations.

"Who was it?" I asked.

"Jillian."

"Oh, cool. What's she up to?" Jillian's a friend of hers from work that I've met a few times at occasional lunches, dinners and company get togethers.

"Driving home from Memphis."

"Good heavens, what was she doing out there? And why is she driving?"

"Family stuff. Seeing her folks." After a pause, she added, "I invited her to stop by."

"Oh. OK." I was slightly deflated as a guest would most certainly curtail our unrestrained enjoyment of each other, not to mention our unadorned run of the villa, but there was something in her voice that led me to believe that Jillian needed more than just a place to splash some water on her face and freshen up. Not wanting to be a cad who said that she couldn't help a friend in need, I didn't protest.

"Oh, don't look like that," she chastised me.

"Like what?" I retorted incredulously. I felt my erection withering.

"Like a puppy that just been hit on the nose with a rolled up newspaper."

"Well, having your friend stop by on our romantic get-away isn't exactly what I had in mind."

"I'll make it up to you. I promise." With that, she lifted her legs, bringing her right foot to rest on the edge on the table, and her left on the edge of her seat. Parting her knees as wide as she could, her womanhood was on full display, still swollen in splashes of mocha and pomegranate and burgundy, her inner lips unfurling, laying open. She slithered her right hand down her belly, through her pubic hair, the tip of her index finger coming to rest atop her growing clit. She chattered her finger across the top of her glans. Her mood changed. Watching this gorgeous, delightful creature caress and arouse herself, my cock refilled rapidly, painfully. I slid my index finger up along the underside of my freshly resturdied cock, dispelling more precum, which I slathered around my shaft. Our eyes locked on each other's sex: she watched as my fingers glided up and down my glazed, bloated erection, as I watched her slide her fingertips over and around her clit, and over the glistening petals of the lips of her cunt.

Dropping her feet to the ground, she sat up, leaned in and plunged her fingers fresh from her cunt into my mouth. I lunged in reply, sliding my fingers, sodden in precum, over and around her lips before popping them in her mouth.

Having licked each other clean, she stood, took my hand and said, "Come here."