Pearls of Desire Ch. 05

I can feel your recovered arousal pressing against my leg as you stroke my newly sated body. The hazy bliss of pleasure fades as I feel your fingers thread through my pubic hair in search of my treasures. I jump when you touch me, still oversensitive from the best orgasm of my life. You nip at my lips, while your fingers dance in my juices.

"I want you," you whisper.

Those three little words have my body humming for more. I turn into your embrace and kiss you with abandon; our tongues dueling for dominance. As my hand wraps around your erection, I hear you sigh. Then you are turning me over onto my stomach and pulling me up on my hands my knees. I feel my warm juices start to flow all over again.

I lean forward, giving you the access you desire. I can feel you kneeling behind me, studying me from this new angle. Your hands slide up and down my back, you erection nudges my entrance. I reach between my legs for you and rub your tip against me, wetting you with my essence. Your hands come to rest of my hips and I tilt back as you push into me. We both inhale sharply at the intense pleasure––physical and emotional. For a moment, we hang suspended in this time and space, holding onto the feeling of being one. And then, you start to move. I want to relish the emotional bliss a moment longer, but your body is driving me to new heights. The feel of you sliding in and out of me, of your fingers grasping my hips, the sounds of your groans, has me succumbing to my body's insatiable desires.

I drop to my forearms and feel you slide even deeper inside of me, eliciting a moan out of both of us. I feel your fingers flex on my hips as you thrust into me harder. Squeezing you with my inner muscles heightens our pleasure and I feel you grow harder as I grow wetter. I arch my back into you, yearning to feel you as deeply as possible. That slight position change causes your testicles to bounce against my clitoris with each stroke. Soon I am trembling beneath you, my orgasm fast approaching. You move faster, your little guys bouncing off of me enticingly, and I soar higher. I feel you reach for my breast while thrusting into me, harder, faster, caressing me everywhere, until I am screaming out again and shaking against you, my orgasm pushing me to take you with me.

But as soon as I finish, you slip out of me and lay on your back.

"Ride me," you say. "Ride me fast and hard. Make me come."

Oh. Your words leave me breathless and make my stomach jump. I am amazed at how quickly you can turn me on. I reach down and hold your throbbing penis in my still trembling hands. Suddenly I feel like my last orgasm was just an appetizer, a prelude to more. I slip over your hard body and poise myself over your erection, your tip a whisper away from my entrance.

Slowly I move above you, just out of your reach, teasing you with my curves of my body. Your eyes are alight with approval and desire. I sway to a dance all my own, teasing you with what awaits you. I reach behind me and trail the tips of my fingers up your inner thighs, careful to tease but not touch. Slowly, I slide my hands over my own body before returning them to yours. I slide my hands up your abdomen, my fingers weaving through your chest hair to find your tight nipples. I roll them between my fingers, watching your eyes dilate with pleasure. I lean forward, peeking at your penis bobbing with desire but still out of reach. Capturing your nipple in my lips, I stroke it with my tongue before sucking it inside my mouth. I graze it lightly with my teeth and am rewarded by a sharp intake of your breath. Your hands move to my hips, urging them downward, your body seeking fulfillment in mine.

"Patience," I whisper, a devilish gleam in my eye.

You lay back and let me torture you with my touch. My tongue teases your nipples while my hands explore your face, your muscled chest, your sides, your abdomen. My fingers weave in and out of your pubic hair and down to your package while my lips dance on your neck. Your hands squeeze my buttocks, lost in their own sensual adventure. When I can't stand the mutual torture anymore, I position myself atop of you.

Our eyes meet and our gazes hold each others, enraptured, on the verge of something big. Your hands rest loosely on my hips, giving me free reign to take you when I'm ready. I close my eyes for just a moment, and when our gazes lock again, I drop, hard and fast, swallowing you whole. Your breath rushes out, and echo of my own. And then we are moving, together, as one.

The exquisiteness of feeling you fill me in all one stroke has us both reaching for each other, the mating of our tongues mirroring the mating of our bodies. Our kisses are frantic as your hands caress my back. I relish the feel of you moving inside of me, stroking my inner fires and desires. I feel us both getting closer, but I want the moment to last a little longer.

I ease myself upright so that we can see each other making love. I watch for a moment; me on top of you, moving, molding to you, you sliding in and out of me with liquid ease. You are watching too, and that thought has me squeezing and stroking you with my inner muscles. My eyes meet yours and you reach for my breasts. The feel of your hands there, measuring me, pinching my nipples has me rocking against you even faster. Your groans of pleasure light me on fire. You reach for my hips, seeking to increase our rhythm. I take my breasts in my own hands, picking up where you left off, caressing them and rolling my engorged nipples between my fingers for your pleasure as well as mine. I arch my back, reveling in the feeling of my clitoris rubbing against your public hair, arousing me more by the second. Your quickening breath echoes my cries of pleasure as we move together. I can feel you getting nearer as my nerves tremble on the verge of ecstasy. I shift our rhythm until I am the one in control, my hips rocking swiftly back and forth, riding you. Your hands on my hips push me harder, faster, until we are both screaming out, my walls milking you, your bursts of release inside of me sending me careening over the edge, both of us giving over to blissful oblivion.