The End and the Beginning

I pulled her up, the smell of her own arousal was filling the room. I pulled her into an embrace, feeling her breasts push against me, feeling my wet member squash against her stomach. We kissed, and I could taste the residue of my seed and my flesh on her.

We turned and I lowered her gently into the armchair, perched close to the edge of the seat. She looked on curiously, unsure of what I intended. I eased her shoulders back until she was slouched in the chair, and then lifted one of her legs onto the arm. She smiled in understanding and lifted the other.

I drank in the sight of her vagina. Pink darkening into red, purpling at the lips. There was already a sheen of wetness. At this angle the sphincter of her anus peeked out from the shadows. Both would have to wait. I leaned forward and kissed her again, my softened dick rubbing her as our lips locked and tongues tangled. She pressed her impatience on me with the bucking of her hips, but I was not to be rushed.

I explored her mouth, her even teeth, all the sensory detail of her tongue, before turning my head and filling my lungs once again at the scent fountain at her neck. I nuzzled at her ears, and she giggled. Ticklish there, I filed the information and at last allowed myself to taste her tits.

Her nipples were studs against broad and dark fields of areolae. I nibbled with my lips, flicked with my tongue, suckled like a hungry child, and allowed my fingertips to roam, registering how she moved as I my hands traced paisley patterns from her throat to the soft fuzz of her pubic hair.

My thumb drifted down and I felt her shiver as it brushed over the top of her clitoris. I drew little circles around it, faster and faster, and then brought both thumbs to bear, not touching it, but pressing from either side.

At last I moved down, relinquishing her breasts and leaving a straight line of spit down her body. I prised her lower lips apart with my thumbs and savoured the heavy, heady aroma of her. I kissed her button once, twice, three times, and marked out all the outline of her sex with my tongue, before pushing it into her.

A tremor ran through her as I began to tongue fuck her, then switched to licking the length of her slit, then lapping her clitoris, then back again. I put in first one, then a second finger, leaving my tongue to roam the outside. With my other hand I ran a fingernail around her other hole, feeling it flex with her increasingly insistent thrusts against the fingers inside her. Saliva and her own juices where running down my chin, lubricating my fingers. I turned them upwards drawing the fingertips around the roof of her pussy, drinking her as my fingers grew stickier.

My cock was standing to attention again, eager to re-enter the fray. Her thighs were squeezing my head, trying to dictate a rhythm while I switched from long strokes to short, from wiggling my fingers to deep and gentle penetration.

I raised my head, she looked down at me, "I want you inside me."

I came to my knees and shuffled forward, I placed the head of my cock against the now wide open and dripping hole. Everything that had passed before was foreplay, deniable as sex. We looked at one another savouring the moment. Her fingers twisted into my own sticky fingers. She raised her arms up, and out, and pulled me into her.

The heat was intense, almost scalding. I buried myself in her, leaning for the most possible leverage, and then grinding my pelvic bone to hers. We kissed, holding the moment for as long as possible before our bodies demanded movement: the flex and sway of her hips to the push and pull of mine.

Smalls sounds escaped us with every breath. I tried to keep to long, slow strokes, but my body was overwhelmed with the sensation of being inside her. We scrabbled at each other, rapid, fervent, urgent. Her legs came off the arms of the chair and wrapped around me. The kiss disintegrated into a fight for air.

With a groan she clamped me, holding me still. Her teeth sank into my shoulder as my own orgasm met the rising tide of hers and we tried to squeeze our two bodies into one ecstatic, exhausted entity.

Post coital langour warred with the excitement of finally being together. Collapsed in an uncomfortable heap in the chair we lazily pulled at each others lips, roamed with our hands over the available surface of skin.

My knees were beginning to feel the strain, so I sat back at last, and enjoyed the sight of her spreadeagled on the chair. Our juices glistened at the edge of her quim, she reached down and inserted a finger, and turned it around several times before raising it to her mouth and sucking it clean. She did it again and held up the finger in invitation. I stood up and swallowed her finger, licking down to the webbing, and then in circles on her palm. She sat forward and took my balls in her hands, rolling them gently. A pearl of come dripped from my cock, and she kissed it away, and then cleaned my manhood meticulously, with brisk cat like strokes.