Mardi Gras

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The chair rocked in the breeze of the New Orleans night.
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The air was cool as it slid across the warm flesh of my back, teasing my eyelids into lifting slowly from their embrace of slumber. What time was it? Did it matter? Minutes, hours … my entire body still pulsated from the rigors of our lovemaking, and my lips quirked in a sideways smile at the thought of how I had given in … of how I had finally surrendered complete control to you. It was not something I would have thought possible, me being the control freak that I am … but ohhhh god what a wonderful release … to trust someone that much … to place your body and soul at the whim of another…. It was something we were going to have to do again soon, very soon.....

I was still laying face down, spread-eagle across the bed, naked but for the knee-high black leather boots. My bottom, still pink and heated, began cooling slowly as the evening air whispered across the newly tenderized skin. I sat gingerly on the very corner of the bed, glancing around only to realize you were no longer in the room. I shook my head … this was New Orleans ... you could be anywhere!! Bending over, I unzipped the boots, shucking them off and tossing them across the room in the general direction of the closet. There was something to be said for finding a hotel room this nice in New Orleans at this time of year … it was Mardi Gras, the people, the booze, the music, all flowed easily through the street one story below.

Even now the open doors to the balcony beckoned, the white sheer curtains billowing softly into the room. I pulled a black satin sheet from the bed and wrapped it, toga-fashion, around myself before padding over to the open doors. Leaning against a glass paned door, I watched the revelry being played out below. A woman slipped deftly through the throng of people, a brown derby hat sitting askew atop her raven curls, a green feather boa wrapped around her shoulders … her coral-tipped breasts bare to the world. She got halfway across the street before a gorgeous, darker than sin Romeo with beads galore grabbed her, spinning her around and devouring her lips with his own. I grinned. There was something to be said for exhibitionism, it gave one a certain sense of freedom from the strict confines of a sexual frustrated world. Besides, it damn sure looked like fun ...

I made a mental note to try co-ed naked crowd surfing before we left. A group of college guys (so evidenced by random greek lettering across their t-shirts) plowed down the street, arms entertwined, eyes glassy and heavy footfalls uneven. They were singing something about Mary the Hairy doing all the kings men. Stepping farther out onto the balcony, I leaned one bare shoulder against the wrought iron railing and waved. I received one marraige proposal, two serenades and a drunken tumble for my efforts. I tastefully declined, assuring them I already had a "gentleman friend" who was very good at satisfying my every desire.

When the warm strength of your arms slid around my waist, I relaxed back into your embrace, my new-found admirers finally giving up and continuing their trek through the throng of bodies in the street below. "You're out of bed," you whispered against my ear, teasing the lobe slightly with the warm wetness of your tongue. I closed my eyes as a fiery tingle slid down my spine to collect in a growing pool of heat between my legs. My ears and my back were my most erogenous zones, and I adored the fact that you constantly used that to your advantage. "

Ummm-hmmm," I mumbled back with a lazy grin, "turns out I can still walk after all."

"I brought us some croissants from the bakery downstairs … honey, sugar, and cinnamon included," you said softly, the warm skin of your chest radiating heat against my back. My mind spared a brief second to consider the idea of eating, then snapped quickly back to focus on the slow, methodical movements of your body against mine. Your hand slid softly across the warm fullness of my ass, the sheet rubbing gently beneath your fingers. I could feel your lips curve into a grin against the side of my neck.

"I'll never get that picture out of my mind … your creamy skin against the dark navy of those sheets, those sexier-than-hell boots … that gorgeous little upturned ass of yours. You knew I wouldn't be able to help myself … you knew how I would react." I turned my head and nuzzled my lips against the semi-rough underside of your jaw. "Which is ... exactly ... why I did it." Your rough chuckle of laughter took life and seemed to caress my hair, sliding purposefully over my breasts, sliding across the flat plane of my stomach, teasing across my upper thighs in its enjoyment. We stood that way for an hour, or perhaps only a moment, my head tucked up under your chin, watching the antics of the crowd below and taking in the wonderful smell of cajun spices, cinnamon croissants, and building arousal. Finally tired of standing, you caught my arm and led to me to one of the two wooden rocking chairs decorating the balcony. "Let's sit and watch for a while …" you suggested, your eyes only leaving the revelry below when my body, unmoving, finally drew your attention.

I fixed you with a cocked eyebrow and a disbelieving look. "The last thing I want to do right now … is SIT," I pointed out, switching eyebrows to achieve the full effect. Again, that delicious growl of laughter coursed over, around, and through me, this time the vibration tickling deliberately against the swollen outer lips of my sex … god how I loved to hear you laugh. "Okay, okay … we'll do it this way," you offered, sitting down in the chair and offering me your lap. I settled in gingerly, tucking the sheet down around my legs before settling back against the cradling heat of your shoulders. It was then that I realized you were still shirtless … it was literally impossible to resist a quick little nip at your bared shoulder. "Vixen," you growled, your head dipping down until your teeth could get in a nip of their own, finding the sensitive flesh at the base of my throat. I shuddered at the sensation, my breath catching as my back arched of it's own volition. I turned in your lap, seeking and finding the warm heat of your lips with my own. As the temperature of our kiss rose … so did my body's response. My hands slid over your shoulders, my nails trailing lightly across skin.

I turned, twisting my body until my legs slipped through holes on either side of your hips, and I was completely straddling you. Leaning back I wiggled my eyebrows and grinned. "Hi." Laughing out loud, you worked quickly, separating my makeshift toga in front to provide your hands with the freedom they needed to dip inside and capture the soft plump flesh of my breasts. The dusky pink of my nipples darkened, puckering into a warm rose as your thumbs teased lightly across them. When your mouth dipped to capture one, my back arched towards you, wanting to give full access to the tasty morsel you sought. I ground my hips slowly against yours as my own warm juices began to flow, the petals of my woman's core throbbing with anticipation.

The entire universe was pounding with life … and it all came to focus as a center of emptiness at the apex of my thighs. Savagely, desperately, I craved the feel of you buried deep inside me. I could wait no longer. My hands made quick work of the button and zipper on your jeans before I slipped one slender hand under the waistband to cradle you in my palm. Sooooo warm. So hard. My tongue darted out to moisten my lips in an unconscious gesture of excitement. When I finally had you freed from the restrictions of clothing (what a horrible invention anyway ... pants … can you imagine??), your hand slithered down to cup the moist heat of my pussy, your middle finger slipping slowly inside me. Grinding down against your hand, a small whimper slipped past my lips, the muscles in my thighs clenching as another finger was added and I tried to pull them deeper still.

My breath was coming in ragged pants, and my eyes sought yours with despair … it was then that your fingers left me, your hands sliding around to cup the twin globes of my ass, pulling me down onto the silky steel hardness of your erection. A deep guttural moan escaped me at the erotic sensation of being totally filled. I felt stretched, hot and pulsing and wonderfully aroused. As your fingers dug into the soft flesh of my bottom, your hands guided me in a sensual rhythm … showing me exactly where … how … and what felt best to you in this position. I had no sense of time, no knowledge of the world around us, just the raw sensation of pistoning myself up and down on your cock, my thighs bracing and relaxing with each downward thrust.

The tempo of our lovemaking escalated … a sweet interlude of pleasurable sex shooting forward into the raw physical need of desperate fucking. When you began to tilt the chair with my movements, rocking up for deeper penetration, a high wail left my lips, no doubt drawing the attention of half the crowd below us. I felt myself bouncing back after each downward lunge. I didn't care, couldn't concentrate on anything except the pure sexual drive within me, the tightening of my body, the throbbing of my pussy as your shaft continued to dive deeper and deeper into my folds. My nails raked the flushed skin of your shoulders, whimpers of ecstasy pounding past my moistened lips with each breath. I screeched, clawing and thrusting as I felt my orgasm rushing over me … my high pitched keening finally bottoming out into a low … panting grunt.

My body shuddered, tightening convulsively around the hot intrusion of your cock, milking you for every drop of the creamy liquid heat that had begun to escape you moments before. My head dropped to your shoulder, my breath hot and moist against the flushed skin of your neck. I felt your hands resting gently against my ass, your very heartbeat still pulsing through your fingertips. My eyes closed as I felt you tilt your head back against the chair … no doubt closing yours as well.

The chair rocked gently in the warm breeze of the New Orleans night, the air heavy with the scents from the bakery below as our ragged breathing slowly straightened … finally matching in the even cadence of sleep.

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