"Do you want to fuck my mouth?" I ask you looking up at you with wide eyes and wet lips, your cock trembles against my open mouth.
"Oh, yeah," you say thrusting forward as I wrap my lips like a sheath around your hardness. And I know you, in this moment, intimately.
But when I met you, it was your hands I knew first.
I was vacationing alone, in Mexico and after a breakfast of melons, kiwi and hot tea; I walked down to the beach. A little ways down from my hotel there were horses you could pay to ride. I wanted to ride, but I'd been thrown from a horse a few years earlier and hadn't gotten over my fear. But the sand was so pretty, and the ocean's blues and greens were rushing and crashing over my bare feet, and the horses looked so strong and friendly, that I walked over to them and to you. I was standing on the edge, leaning on the little fence, wanting to ride, but still afraid.
Then you were there before me. "Do you want to ride, beautiful lady?" you asked. I noticed your hands holding the reins to a fine brown mare, strong hands gripping the reins, hands that were sure and experienced. I wanted to know those hands.
I smiled. "I do, but I'm afraid," I admitted. I reached out to pet the horse. She nickered at me, a warm greeting. I laughed.
"She likes you," you said, "I can tell." your free hand caught mine up. Your hand gripping mine, sure and capable. "I could ride with you," you said, it was an offering.
"Yes," I said. "I'd like that." I was excited in that dizzy kind of fearful way.
You helped me up onto her; your hands grazed my bare legs. Mmm. Calming me. "Her name is Dulce," you said. "It means 'sweet'." Then you climbed up behind me, wrapped your arms around me and you grasped the reins. You led Dulce down the beach and away from the crowds.
We went slowly at first. The sun was falling across the air and glistening on all the sand. My hair was blowing in front of my face, blonde streaks and waves cutting through my vision. The ocean breeze was fresh and cool on my sun-warmed skin. I felt my nipples growing hard beneath my cotton t-shirt. I noticed my white gauzy skirt was hitched up quite high on my thighs. The saddle was hard beneath me and as we bounced along, the hard leather pushed against me in just the right places. I could feel my clit rubbing against the front of the saddle where my hands gripped the horn. You shook the reins a little and Dulce increased her pace. "Oh," I exclaimed, falling back against you, gripping the horn tighter, trying to adjust to the new cadence. We were past most of the people now, and the beach felt like it was becoming my beach or maybe ours. I hadn't felt so carefree, so lost in the moment, in a long time.
You urged me to take the reins with your hands. I wasn't sure, but somehow I trusted you and I took them anyway. I felt your hands move to my waist, holding me steadily until you felt me relax beneath your grip. I felt your breath behind my ear, your mouth, lips in my hair, whispering to me- the voice of Apollo.
"Like that," you said, "relax, yes, that's it." Your masculine voice soothed me.
Your body was strong and hard behind me, I leaned back on you. One of your arms wrapped around my waist. Your other hand traced my tanned thigh. Your calloused fingertips sent shocks through my body like tiny earthquakes. Fingertips tracing down to my knee and then back up closer and closer to my wet cunt. Oh, God, I was getting so hot. I'd closed myself off from these feelings for so long; I now craved their delicious grasp more than anything. "Keep going," I thought. Your fingers were filled with music and as you touched me it traveled into my blood coaxing me along. I leaned back further into you, into your rhapsody.
"That's it," you whispered.