seaside 02
We’re back at the hotel. We were chatting about everything and nothing but got less casual as we got closer to the building. You caught me looking at you and biting my bottom lip a few times, something you know I do when I’m really focused on your physicality. You’re not above giving me a little wiggle, letting me know you know I’m looking.
I lead you through the door. “Alice,” I say, taking your hands. Your eyebrow quirks upward in a question. “The woman you wanted. Her name is Alice.”
“Her name is dinner,” you say, your voice slightly husky. Your paired appetites peak and you pull me close into a deep kiss before you’ve even finished speaking.
You don’t know how thrilling it is to be kissed by you when your mouth is literally watering for prey.
I guide us to the shower and am stripping your dress off you as we go. You giggle when you find the fabric trapping your arms above your head. I do double-duty, keeping you from tripping and helping you wriggle out of the dress as we go.
You’re now naked but for underwear. I kiss your neck as I remove your bra and you hold my hand to prevent me from taking off your pants. You’re looking past me, at the mirror. I turn to look too and smile.
Poor Freya lies about your middle, though diminished. She sags in the tiniest, cutest belly over the plain of your crotch. Your waist, which was recently two creases of skin beneath your ribs, has been cinched in by your merciless metabolism. Your every curve is plush, but no longer the generosity you crave right now.
Alice. She is what you need. Soon.
While you were taking a moment I’ve slipped out of my own clothes and turned on the shower. I place my hand on your shoulder and you turn to kiss me with renewed hunger, thoughts of your prey igniting the fire in your belly that could spell agony or ecstacy.
Hot water near instantly fogs the glossy blue tiles. I lift you and hold you to my body as I carry you to the shower. The mirror is heated—this isn’t a cheap hotel—and you can watch my back and your own eyes as we step into the water.
You rock your flared hips against me. The heat of your sex almost floors me. I am hard and so very close to you. All either of us need do is shift our hips a little and you will envelop me all the way.
You’re staring at me, daring me to do it. I’m fighting myself not to, for reasons you can only guess at. You can feel the desire running hot in my blood, in the pulse of the organ even now tracing apart your swollen lips.
“Trust me,” I say, my own voice husky. You look for a moment like you can’t decide whether to fuck me or bite me.
You let your feet fall to the shower floor and allow me to pull your hands up above your head. Streaming water runs down your chest and flanks. You tease me with full lips parted a millimeter away from mine, never allowing me to kiss you, trying to throw me off as I press both of your hands against the cool tiles with a single hand of my own.
You get me, and I chase a few kisses. Your game is to distract me, get me to fuck you, or else prove how much I want to do what else I have in mind.
Hands trapped above you, you feel me touch you all over, exploring your back, your belly, your hips, my touch amplified by the coursing water and my lips at your neck. I’m going to leave you a love bite you’ll repay later.
Now where is my hand going? I cup your bottom, pressing the soft flesh, pulling apart your cheeks in turn. It feels good, emphasising the shapely heft of the backside you so often admire.
Pressure on your inner thighs is a command to stand with legs wider apart. Now where is my hand going? You feel my fingers trace between the twin domes of your backside, guiding water between. Heat flows over a very private part of you. You stiffen with shock, even as a part of you lights up. I’ve never touched you there before.
I don’t penetrate. In fact it’s a couple of slow, thorough circles, tracing the ring of muscle, and then I withdraw. Your expression reads shock and curiosity, which I return with a secretive smile, and then I lean in for a long, slow kiss.
You melt back into the sensation of mouths together. Your lips are so sensitive and the softness of mine, the tease of tongue and teeth, are enough to relax you and convince you everything is okay.
I suddenly turn down the shower. “Dry yourself and get on the bed,” I say, lowering your hands and giving them a squeeze before releasing them. “Then lie back and touch yourself. Only to tease.” You stare into my eyes, and the intensity in mine makes you tingle, as it sometimes does.
The heat in your groin makes your legs a little wobbly as you take a towel and drape it about yourself. I’m busying myself with soap but I watch you as you step outside.
The bed is plush and the linen crisp. You sprawl yourself over it, turning the smooth flat plane into a network of creases, all curving inwards to touch your body. You join them, cupped hands applying pressure—pressure being what your body always craves, inside and out.
I’m not long, but you’ve already had to back off the intensity of your self-play a couple of times. You ache for the weight of someone, and a voice in the back of your mind asks you if today is the day you will find out if I slide willingly into your depths, or fight you to escape them.
I’m drying my hair with a towel. You watch me become absorbed as I look at you.
“God you’re beautiful, Raven,” I say. Then, “On all fours, facing the headboard. Knees here.”
The voice says one more kiss and then open your mouth a little wider and you can fuck yourself and your new massive belly into exhausted, happy oblivion. But you acquiesce, adopting the position.
“So beautiful,” you hear me say. I place a hand on the small of your back and the pressure makes you arch, presenting your backside for inspection. The nakedness thrills you, but can I really be turned on by what I’m seeing?
The sound of my heartbeat tells you I can.
You look under your belly and breasts, seeing me as hard as you ever have. Do you feel anticipation? Nervousness? Do you dislike the thought?
But I have something else in mind.
You watch me lower myself and gasp. Your involuntary impulse to straighten is countered by my firm pressure on your back. If you continued to press, you know, I’d relent; or there are safe words, or any number of things. But you don’t want that.
The very top of your inner thigh has just been kissed. Right where the light fur fits the crease of your thigh, trails back to your buttock.
“Keep touching yourself, Rey.” My breath tickles your hairs. It feels like the volume has been turned up across your whole pussy.
You leap to comply, your weight on one arm while one hand spreads your lips and massages your clit.
Another kiss at the top of the other thigh. Damnit, the next one is going to be between…
“Don’t you dare come. Not till I’ve had my fill of you.” You drop the pace, squirming.
My lips press hot against your most private place.
There are allegedly eight thousand nerve endings in the clit. You are massaging these now in circles, lighting them up. There are likewise thousands in the anus. My lips are firmly exploring then, sending fireworks to combine with your own touch. The two together are a confusing, overwhelming, deeply animalistic experience. You almost come within seconds.
“Don’t come, Rey.” My lips after moving to speak are still, allowing you five seconds to gather your self-control. It takes an act of will not to push yourself over the edge right now.
“Good.”
The tip of my tongue just pushed open your pucker.
You freeze. The sphincter tightens as a result, and the intense rub as my tonguetip squeezes between the very start of your inner walls somehow finds more fireworks to aim at your pleasure centres. You squeal a protest.
“Relax for me, Rey. Trust me.”
“But it’s dirty!”
“Does it feel good?”
You pause, then nod vigorously against the duvet.
“I love everything about this. Relax, open up for me, and we can make both of us very happy.”
After a few seconds you relax your butthole.
You’re ready for the sensation, but not the intensity. Long, loving strokes paint lines of fire across your ring, and just within. I’m not diving deep, just finding the most sensitive parts.
Unprompted, you’ve started stroking yourself again.
You hear me moan and realise you’ve been vocalising yourself, building towards some crescendo.
You go up a few notes as two fingers slip inside you in time with a particularly vigorous lick from bottom to top. You take it as permission to come and find a rhythm on your clit that ties together the sensation from both holes.
It doesn’t take long and then
white out
You come back to reality with my fingers still inside you but my kisses on the curve of your arsecheek. Your hear my soft, delighted laugh and collapse on your side on the bed.
I pull the duvet across itself to wrap you and excuse myself a moment. You hear running water, then I’m back, cuddling you from behind.
You curl up against me, suddenly unsure and feeling a little ashamed. “Did you really like it?”
“So much. You made me very happy Raven. Did you like it?”
Another mute nod. “But doesn’t it taste bad?”
You feel my cheek rub the back of your neck as I shake my head. There is the smell of peppermint. “Not in the slightest. Musky. Clean. But… heh, you’re kind of delicious, Rey.”
Your expression as you turn to look at me sets me off laughing so hard you eventually have to join in.