Thursday, October 22, 2015

WRITERS WRITE... WRITING PARTNER FEUD ~ IT MAY BE LOVE EXCERPT 8 (erotic)

EXCERPT CONTINUED FROM PREVIOUS WEEK


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.

***
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Angelica Hart and Zi ~ Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
www.champagnebooks.com - www.carnalpassions.com - angelicahartandzi.com










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