PLAUDITS OF THAT UNLETTERED MOMENT (con't) -- #8
James knew her voluptuous body would always arouse him to
the point of near-obsession. She was a
gift. Her extraordinary tits, solid
thighs and wet cunt would never fail to turn him inside out. As she was doing now. She was a true
gift. Love was not just about the body,
but more about the largest sex organ, the mind.
She was wonderfully so gifted.
He knew she believed he was controlling their fucking, but
she was truly the one in control. He had
never been harder, and never wanted release more. At the same time, he simply didn't want it to
end. All the aforementioned crazy was
real and she was the one who unwittingly did that to him.
The passion in
her eyes could have melted iron, softened the mettle of his heart, and predict
that his steely cock would soon melt inside her.
"More!"
she screamed, powering her fingernails into his back.
And he rammed
harder. Rutted against that dripping
succulent cocoon that via a developed vacuum
seemed to suck him in with his every plunge. His balls rhythmically slapped against her
ass, making a whacking sound even as his cock's movement created a slurping
noise. Her moans mitigated those tinny sounds
polishing them with thoughts of love.
She was more than an instrument with nipples, she was that women, with
whom James had to share his feelings, and thus, his crave.
She grunted out
a high-pitched pleading mew. It sounded
gritty and raw, oh so, retching that swamp alligators submerged and hid in
lairs. A primeval cry that echoed
through time imitating the very first lovers who initially realized that the
liaison of melded, harmonious souls compelled lust's momentum to previous
unattainable zeniths. Of all the
composing of Beethoven none could be so moving as was her call to bridge time
and space. Why? It was raw and reaching.
Her vocalization
caused James to squeeze out one more, singular, defined and fervent
action. The tantalizing torment,
lovingly inspired and furiously consuming, was what directed the act.
Hips keeping her
thighs parted, he used two fingernails to find her hardened nub and pinched it
resolutely enough to draw a scream. She
arched toward the pain and onto his cock.
Her back and ass lifting off the bed, straining into him as fully as she
could as her teeth clenched onto her own lower lip. Her emotions froze and were like wading
through glue, each omnipresent, demanding attention.
The mystical
aardvark trinity of she, him and them chased the stalking albino serpent of being worthy of
love. This platinum-coated man loved her
and wanted her to experience the glorious nature of her body. She understood that so many men thought her
the brick mausoleum's loo with remarkable flying buttresses. They each adored the construction rather than
the inner beauty. James admired the
totality of her, it overflowed with each and every action by him. Within the authenticity of his feelings transferred
through every touch, caress, kiss, stroke, and thrust, she felt freedom,
strength and a celebrated love that celebrated she, him and them.
It was then that
she came, an orgasm shuttered, ripped, convulsed through her with tenuous
intent, sharply defined and amazingly extensive. A thunderous storm quaking every filament of
her being. So much like a maelstrom
ravaging the landscape of her body, possibly altering it forever.
Everything
quivered as her clit candidly contracted, her nipples stiffened double-time,
fingers clenched via passion's accord, that grip lengthy, continuous pulsations
shredded through her, one after the other.
The orgasm's
freewill surpassed just being physically instinctive, going to a place of being
fostered by genuine loving emotions. The
convulsions were at first fast, rapid, nail-hard, and then they came slower,
but just as strong and finally easing back.
In response, she kept pumping against him and another tide arose, a
second orgasm riding like a cresting wave on top of a previous watery crushing
curl. Impossibly, it was even more
projected, sharp and violent.
At the beginning
there was a soft coo of real satisfaction, which became uncontrolled, almost
foolish sounding cackles, trans-morphing into the tenacious gobble of
relentless groans. This was followed by
the ruckus screeches of her inner beast, which was trilled into a gentle caw,
eventually propelled at the end into the outcry of that wail of utter joy.
The echoes of
her response was the standing ovation that warmed James, telling him he was
appreciated.
He felt those
surges, comprehended the howls of her sate, reacted in kind, by no longer
holding back. He rammed back into her,
hard and long, retreated and rammed again, endless strokes as he found his own
ecstasy. The delayed bliss iceberg
instantaneously melted. Everything within him tightened, held on a split-second
longer, rising to that pinnacle of ultimate paradise. And then, he pumped into her, frosted her
heavenly repository. Just knowing the
night had only begun, made this first orgasm that much more keen, vivid and
profound. Later, he'd cum again, on her
breasts, in her mouth, in her ass. He
was such the hyena in syrup and she the wainscoting of the privileged, so
different, yet, each so wonderful.
When he
finished, he collapsed upon her body and kissed her softly, her hair, her eyes,
her cheeks, whispering sweet, loving sentiments. She returned those sentiments and they held
each other for long moments, cocooned in the other's arms.
"I adore
you," he murmured against her throat as he stroked her hair. "You have liberated me. No human is ever as free as a fish. But here I am flopping before you, gasping
for air, pleading for you to save me, knowing your heart will protect. Yes, I adore you."
A soft smile
slipped over her glowing, sate-filled face.
"And I you." The
desires of the heart were as crooked as corkscrews. Was this too soon? It mattered not.
Give a man a
free hand and he'll try to put it all over you, some were welcomed, as was
James'. His hands gently cradled her
face, one on either side of her cheeks. "I love you." Those words silenced their universe, the wind
ceased, the house's creaking stopped, and their hearts held still. "I love you!" he reconfirmed almost
in the voice of discovery, the eureka instant of realizing this was the
greatest revelation.
Her smile
widened. "And I you." She cooed with acceptance and then quickly
noted, "I used to be Snow White but then I drifted." She instinctually ran from her feelings.
His brows
furrowed as he grabbed her, stalling her from retreating. "Don't joke me. Say it, I want to hear it." Then with a humble jettison of soft
words. "I need to hear it. We owe all we feel to that honesty."
Gaze fully
burrowing into his eyes, she said on a hushed but audible breath. "I love you, James, probably loved you
since the birth of our souls."
"Knew
it!" A small, easy kiss of the
familiarity of believing in forever claimed them for an instant, and then ever
so gently and then ever so fiercely, they hugged for the seemingly
forever. The only sounds were paired
breathing, synchronized heart beats, and plaintive purrs of their inner
kittens.
His cock still
buried inside her, and her hips began to move.
"More..." was all she said.
Everyone boiled at different degrees.
She was still hot enough.
Much, much
later, they fell into an exhausted sleep.
Just before
James drifted he recalled Cyndy's claim, “I read your papers written for your
mother that day at the cemetery. I knew that
the three computer identities were all you.
And I am so pleased. Why? James it has always been about you. Those others proved my belief correct.
***
Angelica Hart and Zi ~ Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
www.champagnebooks.com - www.carnalpassions.com - angelicahartandzi.com
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