He was handsome and a little nervous,
but confident with an intense desire
for her. He was powerfully fascinated
by her scent, the softness of her skin,
and the abundance of her breasts.
She was fascinated by his strength,
his voice and powerful hands. The
intensity of his eyes and his slowness
and ease...
He gave one the feeling that the whole
world was now shut out and only this
sensual feast existed, that there would
be no tomorrows, no disruptions~~that
there was only this room, this night, this bed...
As she stood by the bed, music playing in the
background, he began to undress her slowly,
as her night slip falls to the floor. She was trembling
at the desire of his hands. She stood naked. He
loosened her long hair over her shoulders covering
her breasts. And only then did he kiss her interminably,
threading his fingers ever so gently through her hair.
Her sexual hunger was rising like madness to her head,
blinding her. It was so urgent that she could not wait.
She couldn't wait until he undressed. But he ignored
her movements of impatience. He not only continued
to kiss her as if he were drinking her whole mouth,
tongue, breath, into his sweet mouth, but his hands
mauled her, pressed deeply into her flesh.
She was moist and trembling, opening her
legs, desperately yearning for his touch.
"There is time," he said. "There is plenty
of time. I am going to explore you in this
room for days. There is a lot of time
for both of us."
Then he turned away and got undressed.
He was beautiful, and a cock as smooth
and firm as a polished wood baton.
His hands went everywhere; into her
long hair, over her skin, into her sex;
his tongue, into her mouth, on her
breasts.
He bit at her nipples and shoulders,
he kissed and caressed her everywhere.
Her scent was like a drug, he was completely
intoxicated by it. With his two strong hands
he took whatever part of her he was hungry
for and brought it up to his mouth like a
morsel of food, not caring how the rest of
her body fell into space.
By this time the hunger in her womb was
like a ranging fire. She thought that it would
drive her insane. If she even kissed him too
long he would break away.
She was now indeed the slave of this beautiful
man. He ruled like a king. Her pleasure was
subordinated to his. She realized she could do
nothing against his force and will. He demanded
her surrender. And she willingly gave it to him...
She became as soft as cotton. Into this he delved
with greater exultancy. His possession, growing
softer under his fingers. His hands searched every
nook of her body, leaving nothing untouched,
kneading it, kneading it to suit his fancy,
bending it to suit his mouth, his tongue,
pressing it against his teeth, marking her as his.
For the first time, the hunger that had been on
the surface of her skin, retreated into a deeper
part of her body. It retreated and accumulated,
and it became a core of fire that waited to be
exploded by his time and his rhythm.
His touching was like a dance in which the two
bodies turned and deformed themselves into
new shapes, new arrangements, new designs.
Now he was ready to give her pleasure, her
breasts undulating like waves under his hands,
painfully awake, aware, sensitive.
He crouched over her prone body like some great
lion, as she raised herself to his cock. He entered
her for the first time and filled her as none other
had, touching the very depths of her womb,
of her soul...
Yemanja
All her senses were
He opened the front door
A little over a year
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