I whimper into the space behind your ear. Caressing my insides you build the tempo. Long strokes, just enough pressure for me to feel across my whole being. My lips swell and part as you move. Moses and the red sea; I am at your command.
Another finger joins the first. The audio track of our activities is like soft waves lapping at a rocky shore. My breathing quickens.
I feel your smile against my head as you caress my g-spot and somehow you shift to rub my button with a third finger. I bury my face in your neck again and smell you; your cologne and a hint of sweat combine to entice me as you bring me to the edge. My legs are shaking and I feel the pressure building inside me. A quivering moan jangles from my throat and I bite down on your shoulder. I am so close.
You change rhythm again and the pressure retreats but you keep me just below the edge. A few ragged breaths and I look into your eyes. You kiss me, tongue slipping past my lip to drag against my own. I suck on your lip and enjoy the sweetness of it. Strawberry lip balm, mint, and a hint of the clove cigarette you smoked this morning. I am panting again and you bring your other hand to my mound, flicking your fingers across my clit. I am trapped between your arms, and you slowly build me back up again. At the precipice, ready to fall.
Now I can smell my scent mixed with yours and it makes me want to scream. Orchids and oil, musk and mango, the combination is intoxicating.
I am empty. You've dragged my wetness from inside, across my ass and up my spine, a tell tale trail of my excitement I cannot hope to remove. You push me onto my back and lean over me, suspended in the air like an eagle about to snatch its prey. You dive into me, your hands and mouth devour me and the fire inside begins anew. Your hand is at my entrance again. One, two fingers inside and your thumb tapping my clit in a rhythm to make Korsakov proud.
You insert another finger and stroke me from the inside, knowing which buttons to push and when. You tweak my nipple and I shudder. My orgasm builds from my belly then spreads in a flush like a wild fire racing across my chest until I am consumed.