And a storm rages on…

Posted: June 8, 2015 in Erotica
Tags: , , , , , , , ,


Your new bathrobe beautifully outlines your feminine curves. Obsidian silk, matching belt; the material barely reaches down mid-thigh. Your body stands as an icon on sensuality when you wear it. The silken feeling when it rubs against your breasts hardens the nipples, two stiff buds rising out of the fabric, eager to be lapped.

Freshly out of the shower, nicely scented, hair tied back in a ponytail because you love how raw and sensual it feels when I pull your hair and sink my teeth in the soft tissue around your neck as we fuck.

You feel good, clean, desirable. Sensual, and attractive. Your body language exudes confidence, the power of a myriad shared orgasms runs through your veins, your muscles, your nerves. Your clit throbs, energized with the force of lust, your lust for me.

The mirror is fogged up, so you run a hand across it to clear a patch. The beautiful reflection smiles at you. No need for makeup or dressing up on this night; the thin, silky bathrobe I gifted you is more than enough. It will serve its purpose on a night dedicated solely to us.

As you walk out of the shower room, your power as a woman awakens your instincts. The heat of molten passion simmers within every step you take closer to me, threatening to spill over through every pore in your body. Right now, you breathe the purest essence of sexual desire.

The hotel room is spacious, and neatly arranged. It’s snowing outside, a winter landscape of icy beauty. Snowflakes hit against the windowpane on our room, leaving a whitish, powdery trace behind. An open fire roars beside us, so the blizzard outside is but a mirage of distant meaning.

Lights turned low, the orange glow of the fire draws dancing shadows around your bare feet. As you approach my naked body and sit beside me, a wry smile lights up your face.
‘You’re so beautiful,’ you hear me say

I lick my index finger, and let you lick it too. Then, I run it across your lips, around your cheeks, under your chin, all over your neck, leaving a slick trail on your smooth skin. I lick my finger again, slowly, sensually, while looking into your eyes. I can taste your flesh on my finger. It smells of you, of the pure lust your body exudes for me. As I withdraw my finger, the capricious light cast by the roaring fire makes it look like an aura trails behind it. Maybe it does. Such is the magical power of sex.

Now my finger glides down your cleavage, right to the sweet spot in between your breasts.You moan a little, and I smile. The finger goes up again, running right under the fabric of your bathrobe, all the way up your shoulders, and then slowly across your neck. When the tip finds your hearbeat, I stop. I want to feel the vitality of your life, the energy of your body. I press down, feeling your pulse on me.
‘I want to take it off,’ you say. ‘I don’t want clothes on me anymore.’
I shake my head, mouthing ‘no’, and smile.

We sit on the bed. There’s rose petals scattered across it, and two glasses of sparkling wine stand on the night table.
A strawberry neatly cut in half bobs up and down the clear liquid. Gas bubbles surge upwards around two strawberry halves and die on the surface.

I take a sip off one of the glasses, then dip my finger in the wine, and lean forward to kiss your lips. You eagerly kiss me back, and the kiss is slow, deep, and very sensual. Tongues dance and coil around each other, the nascent urgency of desire beginning to simmer within both of us. It is the prelude of a night of sex as a snow storm blows mere inches from us.

As you lick the sweet taste of wine off my tongue, I move the wet finger down, right onto your clit. You gasp audibly when you feel the sparkling wine soaking the engorged, sensitive bud. I leave my finger there as we kiss, letting you feel the sensual sting of sudden desire pierce your heart.

The taste of sparkling wine in our tongues is sharp but sensual. You lick me, and I lick you, avidly, eagerly. I hear your moans of pleasure very deep within me. I move my finger around your clit, very slowly, feeling its contour, flicking the bud, caressing its soft, moist tip until the flesh cries out tears of pure joy into my finger. Cum from deep inside your body runs down on me. I can feel the fluid coating my skin, turning it slick and sticky, Yet, I keep pressure on the clit, with little moves, in and out, and all the while we kiss deeply and passionately, as if trying to steal each other’s breath. You reach for my cock, but I move your hand away. Though I am rock hard and more than ready for you, this moment is just for you to enjoy.



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