And as she turned and swiftly moved away I very nearly lashed and snapped like an animal, so primal did I feel. Picking up a bowling ball without breaking stride she just as smoothly rolled it down a lane and just as swiftly she was back before me, the cold sound of a strike echoing from behind her.
I took a sharp step right up to her, tendrils of electricity dancing across our exposed skin just a whisper apart. And then I stepped past her, just as determinedly taking a ball and hurting it down the lane. And there I stayed, feet planted as of facing down a charging herd. Except the thud of the stampeding herd approaching was to my rear, and I refused to turn to face it. And the feeling of her hands sliding onto my waist and up to my chest felt no less intense than being trampled on. The contact of our bare skin setting me alight as if I were doused in oil and she were a living flame. That helped me live down the shame of a spare. Without a word I quickly cleaned up my mess and returned to her, our hands swiftly but gently probing the other's body.
After an eternity she made her move, and another something ringed in the air, but I don't remember as I found myself lost in the touch of her hand upon my cheek and the burning chasm of her eyes. I fled and desperately hurled another ball into the ranks of the enemy, very hurriedly finding myself leaning over her once more, our parted lips hovering in anticipation against each other, yet held back by the trepidation of world ending consequences. Unwilling to sacrifice the lives of innocents just yet, she dealt out another killing blow, turning the tide of the battle and rallying the defenders.
But all I could tell you of the war was how my body shuddered and began trembling with contained ferocity as her mouth found my neck, her hand pressed to my chest to assist with the containment of my heart pounding against its cage with great fury. My fingers digging in at her hips as if holding the world in place. I don't remember when I was released, or how the next ball felt in my hands not the screams of the enemy as it tore into them, but I do remember the feeling of her in my arms. The comforting squeeze of her legs wrapped around my waist. And the blinding intensity of our foreheads pressed together, lips tentatively touching, and the collapse of reality as they slowly cut off our shared oxygen.
Divine guidance brought us to the nearest table, briefly trapping my hands against her body as her fingernails dug in to keep my close. Our tongues entwined, speaking their own language, we mere vessels. Reality collapsed and the only sound in the void were her moans as I bit into her neck, suckling and kneading every inch I could reach. Her body arched into me and her hands scrabbled for the waistline of my pants, desperately attempting to shed them as they fell from her reach. But I couldn't be stopped falling down her body, not until her powerful thighs clamped around my head and provided me handholds with which to cling to. Slaking a desperate thirst, my tongue lapped at her moist sex with a need equalling her own. My hands alternately testing new handholds further up. The reassurance of a path back up the cliff side allowing me to eagerly focus the entirety of my soul to tongue fucking her cunt. The bucking and writhing of the earth threatening my deathly plummet at any moment, so powerfully I clung on. The panting and screams of someone plummeting into her own chasm, followed by the comfortable silence of landing in my secure embrace at the bottom.
Then the gentle but urgent pull, bringing me back up to her tender kisses and caresses. The slow but determined peeling of my pants by her hands, too impatient to free anything beyond the vessel of her freedom. Neither of us willing to part our mouths as her hand doggedly stroked my hardened cock from head to balls, mapping every square inch of skin she could. Then guiding me to her, awaiting my consent. My hips spoke for my preoccupied tongue, slowly and firmly pressing into her. The heavy and silent moans separating us as I buried myself as deep within her as I could. Fingernails digging into my back pressing my body more firmly against her. The tender moments of mutual reluctance before we shared the burden of parting our hips. The mutual tenacity as we slammed our hips back together.
And so we fucked. Right there on the table of a bowling alley. So totally engulfed in one another we were blissfully unaware of the awed crowd around us. So potent was our connection, you could almost see the arcs bolt out and infect those who dared to look upon us. But at that moment, we had no capacity anything outside of our bubble.
Thrust after thrust we met each other. My one arm up her back and supporting her head from knocking against the table. The other levering off her hips so that I may thrust more powerfully into her. Her arms wrapped around my torso, pulling me into her whilst simultaneously giving her the handholds to equal my propulsion. The smacking of her wet cunt against my engorged sex ringing in our ears as loudly as each individual breath. Kissing along her neck and earlobe, nibbling and sucking, eager to give her maximal sensation, desperate to fulfill her. Pressing her lips into my ear so that I may hear every decibel of her satisfaction.
