Interlude: Sleeping With Her

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I open my eyes. I forget for a moment where I am, until I feel the warmth next to me. I feel her breath against my neck and realize the comfort of her arm around my chest. I am in bed with her. In a hotel room that I had rented in case we were to drunk to go back. I stare out at the wall, beyond the shadows of the darkened room, and try to match my breathing to hers.

But with a sigh, I softly lift her arm and slide out from the haven of our bed. I deposit her slender limb back where I was and kneel by the bed. I rest my chin on the mattress and observe how her hair falls across her ethereal features like a veil across a memory. I ponder the color of her dreams: are they pale and fragile like her skin, or golden and engrossing like her hair?

After a few moments, I cross over to the bathroom, each movement deliberate and calculated to diminish any sound which might awaken her. I cringe as the latch of the bathroom door slides in place, each creak of the mechanism reverberating in my ears like a rifle shot. I click on the light and realize my senses are still dimmed from the night’s partying. At the sink, I struggle with the faucet, a cheap plastic crystal that is pushed left or right to achieve the desired temperature. I push all the way to the right, embracing the idea of ice-cold water drowning away my weariness.

I reach over for a washcloth and let it drop in the sink where it greedily soaks up the cold water. When the water starts to pool over the cloth, I pick it up and slap it against my face. I lean my head back and feel the cold water flow down my neck, branching out against the continent of my skin. I shiver as the liquid hardens my nipples and causes a slight stir between my legs. When excitement begins to haunt me, I pull the washcloth away and let it flop on the floor.

Switching the light off and shutting the faucet, I leave the bathroom and quietly head for the balcony. The hotel is in the center of town and the room is on the fifth story. I slide the patio door and swiftly slip outside, sliding the door back to within an inch of being completely sealed. A small winter breeze blows in to the room and I hear her shift, likely wrapping the blankets tightly around her form.

Naked against the brisk night air, I watch a dancing pattern of lights twinkle across a cityscape. I close my eyes and breath deeply, thinking that perhaps I can absorb a bit of all the mysteries that make up this painting of life. I search for an insight regarding my own mystery.

A blinking sign across the street shows it is 3 a.m. and 28 degrees outside. I fight my body’s fear of cold for as long as I can, but ultimately I retreat back inside. She has Samsun Escort turned towards the window – the blankets tightly hugging her body – and the moonlight floating through the patio door gives her face the luminescent qualities of a favorite fantasy. I walk over to the leather reading chair that accompanies the room’s small table and turn it in her direction. Within arm’s reach is a small cooler. I crack it open and pull out a bottle of water. I lean back in the chair, taking a gulp and shiver from the shock of my cooled skin coming in contact with the warmer cowhide.

She twists again, now laying on her back. She has pushed blankets away, exposing her body completely to the moonlight. I watch as her breasts rise and fall; her nipples are hard and inviting. I put the bottle aside and walk over to her. She seems to sense my presence and squirms, moaning softly. I lay my fingertips on the base of her chin and gently trace my way down to her mound, hidden by the blankets. As I run my fingers up and down from her belly to her neck, my nails brushing against her skin like a feather – or a wish – I whisper her name. She throws her arms over her head and arches her back, aching for a deeper touch. I lean down and kiss her heart through her skin.

I pull the blankets off her completely and take their place. While I delicately rest my weight on her she opens her eyes. She smiles and spreads her thighs; I move in between them and savor her moisture against my cock.. She moves her hips up and down, coating my erection with her juices, and we kiss. From that initial kiss, I caress her face with my lips; the small beads of perspiration that form on her forehead from excitement send tremors through my lips to my groin; the trace smell of Obsession drifting from her neck as I breath across her ears makes my heart beat faster; her breath against my throat triggers a few drops of pre-come to escape my cock.

I hover over her, waiting, letting the hairs on my chest tickle her nipples. “Down there,” she asks me, pushing down on my shoulders..

A slave to her desire, I slide my body down hers, the only contact between us the hairs on my chest. Near the source of her nectar, I lean back on my knees and take in the sight of our greatest difference. While I gaze at her sweet petals, I lift her legs and slip her toes between my lips, blowing and softly licking each of them in turn.

I see her twitch with each flicker of my tongue, and I suddenly wonder who is the most tortured by this slow building to the meal of her pussy. But I get the answer when, with a crazed look in her eyes, she her moves her legs aside, lunges for my head, and buries Samsun Escort Bayan my face in her crotch.

The musky odor from her pussy sends me into a frenzy. My tongue sneaks through her, tasting each crevice and fold her flesh forms. When I find her luscious little clit, I freeze. It seems almost alive, caught in the trap of my lips. As her body spasms, more and more of her juices flow across my chin. I finally decide to let my tongue dance with her button, and she almost renders me unconscious with the force of her thighs snapping shut across my head.

I rest peacefully, nestled against her snatch with my tongue fused to her clit. Now, she takes control, gyrating and grinding her pelvis in a means to connect us in this way forever. She reaches for my wrists and pulls my hands up to her tender breasts. I feel as if I may cut myself on her ever stiffening nipples. When I finally move my tongue in response to her motions – all the while pinching her nipples — she cuts loose with a gasp and a moan that resonates like a melody to my ear.

I lick gingerly at her ever swelling clit. I want to make her sing and vibrate; I want her to dig her fingers in my hair; I want her to make me the tool of her ecstasy.

“I want to fuck you,” I whisper from between her thighs.

“Oh yeah,” she moans. She looks up at me as I sit up and pull her hips so her pussy in only inches from my stiff cock. “Do me. Do me like the fucking cock-machine you are!” she screams.

I start laughing. Realizing what she has just said, she clasps her hands to her face and begins to giggle uncontrollably. “Did you just call me a cock-machine?” I ask between chuckles.

“Well,” she says, taking my erection in her hands and moving it between her cunt lips, “you do have a cock – beautiful cock – and you’ve been known to go like a machine, so…”

“Are you saying you want my cock?”


“Say it.”

“I want it. Its mine and I want it.”

A tease, I back up slightly and she gives me a disapproving tug.

“Oh no,” she says, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to fuck me. You’re going to fuck me for the rest of my life.”

“Well. I guess I better get to it, then.”

Slowly, I slide form her grip and place myself at the entrance of her tunnel; she leans back, arms stretched over head, letting me drink in her beauty draped in dreamy moonlight. I watch her skin glimmer as I enter her, one inch at time. The deeper I enter — she slowly repositions herself to make my trek easier – the more I rest my body weight on her. When my pubic hair is mixed with hers, I cover her completely Escort Samsun and our eyes are close enough to exist as one.

“Gently, my love,” she whispers.

I fuck her slowly, letting my pace match our kisses: lips that barely touch at first; they slide against one another then, savoring silky softness that sends sparks across our skin; at last, our tongues meet and dance, weaving themselves like two halves that have been apart for too long.

“Oh yes!” she moans, knotting her legs around me, unwilling to let me get away. “Yess … There … My spot … Right there … Ohhh…!”

I feel the walls of her cunt tighten as she raises and lowers her hips in answer to my thrusts. Feeling that I might lose control and come, too quickly to my liking, I steady her and unclasp her legs.

“Put a pillow under your ass,” I whisper. When she does, I push her legs up to her shoulders and begin to take slow, measured strokes. I pull out of her almost completely before sinking my cock back in, deeper and deeper with each movement.

She closes her eyes, savoring my length over and over again. When I slide a hand down her thigh and bring it to rest on her clit, a sigh escapes her parted lips. I trace small circle about her cunt with my thumb, moving it in tandem with my hips. I make sure to brush up against her sensitive bud when I am at my deepest in her.

“God, you…” I growl as our heat combines and we grind on one another. I watch drops of my sweat fly off to mingle with hers. I lean down to lick our mingled perspiration from the space between her tits and she holds my head tight; I hear her heartbeat. I move from side to side, licking and devouring her orbs like they’re the last meal I will have before Heaven, or Hell, comes for me.

Being so close to her, so deep in her, is too much for me and I start to fuck her furiously. All control I had is now gone, replaced by the instinct of desire. She holds on to me for dear life as my thrusts seem like they will shake the room to pieces

“Let go,” she says sweetly as she runs her tongue across my ear. “Come. Come in me… Be in me… Be in me forever… Forever.”

“Never let you go! My heart… my soul… It’s all yours. All of it!”

We both seem to lose ourselves as I come and the walls of her pussy contract to milk every last ounce of my load. She holds me so tightly, whispering my name, that I feel our hearts beating off each other.

Spent, I roll off her, feeling our mingled juices run down my legs. The blankets are soaked from our sweat while the room is full of the aroma of our lovemaking. She turns on to her side, facing me. Her eyes are half closed, drenched in sleepiness and contentment. She delicately traces my features as if to remember them like this were she ever to go blind.

“Hey,” she says.


“I’m happy, y’know. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Sleep now.” She turns around and curls up against me.

I close my eyes.

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