The Hotel

He led her tenderly by the hand from the window to the plush chaise-lounge. Her knees were still slightly weak from the after effects of the powerful orgasm that had just swept over her. She wondered for a moment why it had been so strong, but thinking back over the romantic setting of the hotel restaurant, the delicious food, the exquisite wines, the chemistry of the gazes between them across the table - in an instant, the memories of it all combined to answer her question.

He gently lifted her legs so that she reclined sideways on the chaise lounge. She realised that she was now in the classic pose seen in so many oil paintings and photographs. She decided that she was going to go with the flow and enjoy to the utmost the luxuriant feelings that he always brought out in her.

Standing alongside the four-poster bed, he removed his suit jacket and his tie and started to unbutton his shirt from the neck downwards. She languorously beckoned him over to her and made him kneel in front of her. She slowly, very slowly, continued the task of unbuttoning his shirt. She made sure that her red nails almost imperceptibly scraped against his chest. Her eyes never left his face and she realised with some satisfaction that his eyes were sweeping the full length of her body from top to toe and back again. As she jerked his shirt tails free of his waistband, he was already removing the gold cuff links that had been a birthday present from her.

Her hands went up to his shirt collar and he assumed she was about to peel his shirt from his darkly tanned shoulders, but she surprised him. She roughly pulled him to her and kissed him on the mouth with a desire he remembered only too well. He knew that the evening's long build up would raise her to a plateau where her sexual desire became magnified and he toyed with the idea that she might just be insatiable.

Her hands were now running all across his chest, and the kiss seemed endless. It only ended when his left hand moved between her legs. His touch was like an electric shock to her as his fingers encountered her swollen labia. He was always pleased when he found that the outer lips were so enlarged. He took it as recognition of his love for her and her desire for him. He moved to his left and started to place small kisses on the top slopes of her breasts. His left hand started on a voyage of exploration.

First, his fingers slid along the edges of her outer labia. Slowly, yet firmly, he circumnavigated the shaven lips and gathered the moisture that had come from within her. As he moved his index finger to the top of her now gaping lips he was careful to avoid her clitoris. He knew that the merest direct stimulation would quickly bring her to another climax, and he wanted to wait, to make the moment last. He circled her clitoris again and again so that she could feel the anticipation growing. He also knew that by using this method, her clitoris would itself become engorged and start to peek through the outer lips. He moved his gaze from her face to stare intently at the area his fingers were massaging. He knew that he wanted to judge to perfection when to replace his finger with his tongue.

Her head went back and a low moan escaped from her throat as she surrendered to his practiced touch. One arm lay along the back of the chaise-lounge and her eyes closed with the delicious waves of pleasure.

His fingers were having the desired effect and he moved so that his mouth was directly over her clitoris. His fingers parted her labia and his tongue took up the task. But there was still no direct contact with her clitoris. He closed his eyes and imagined that below him was a tiny Vesuvius. The very tip of his tongue circled the foothills of her volcano. He circled it time and again, like a marching army that was demonstrating its dominance and announcing the intended invasion.

Her moans became more audible and her hands went to her breasts. He loved to watch as she teased her own nipples and he was certain that they were becoming longer as he watched. His tongue skilfully completed circle after circle, avoiding direct contact but closing in on its ultimate target. The army was now storming the foothills of her volcano in an ever-decreasing spiral. Her hips started to writhe as he neared the top and he finally captured the tiny peak with his lips and worked his tongue with a flicking motion that would unleash the imagined molten lava.

Her moan became a scream as his tongue found its mark and her fingers squeezed and twisted her nipples in a shuddering climax that almost bruised his lips. Her whole body convulsed and he sat back on his heels to allow the aftershocks to subside.

He stood and moved towards the table where the wine had been breathing, He poured two glasses and offered one to her. No words were spoken, but the look that was exchanged contained the complete vocabulary of love and desire.

She rose and took the glass, drank deeply, and placed her palm on his chest. She steered him backwards until the back of his legs were against the bed. He reached out to place his glass on the bedside table and her free hand attacked the buttons of his trousers. As she drank the rest of her wine, her fingers negotiated the buttons so that his trousers fell away, revealing his erection. He wore no underpants and her hand took advantage. With an underhand grip she grasped his manhood and pulled him towards her, kissing him roughly as her tongue sought his. He stepped out of the trousers, kicking off his shoes in the process. She stepped to the side to place her glass next to his and he started to remove his socks. Before he was finished she pushed him back onto the bed in a move that surprised him. She quickly straddled his chest, looked down at him with an intensity that he did not expect and she said just one word, "Again!"

She moved to place her swollen labia above his mouth, so that his arms were almost pinned by her legs. As she descended upon his mouth she arched her back and reached back to grab his penis and moved her hips in time with her hand. She was grinding into his mouth and his tongue readily responded. Her hand was gripping him tightly and he took his cue from the rhythm of her strokes to his penis. He matched the rate at which her grip was sliding up and down his engorged member with darting flicks of his tongue. He could feel her copious natural juices spreading across his cheeks as she became more insistent with the simultaneous thrusting of her hips and hand. She was truly fucking his face.

He knew that she knew he was a willing prisoner to her. As he wondered how long he would last before he lost control she released her grip and leaned forward so that she was effectively on all fours over his face. She retreated slightly from his tongue, paused for a moment, then started to move against him. Her enlarged clitoris moved slowly, deliberately, from his nose down to his chin. She pressed firmly against his chin, and then moved back up to his now closed lips. He sensed that his tongue was not needed and he enjoyed the slow, languorous movements against his chin, lips and the tip of his nose. Her touch varied, sometimes light, sometimes with an urgent pressure. He relaxed fully so that he could enjoy the sensations. He listened to her breathing and recognised that she was close to orgasm. She was keeping herself on the very edge of ecstasy, lifting from him when it became too intense. Her eyes were closed as she let the sensations invade her entire body. As he moved his hands to caress the backs of her thighs, he could feel the muscles tense with the oncoming climax. She increased the speed of her movements, sliding along his face faster and faster until he extended his tongue and she could feel the extra stimulation that immediately took her to a wonderful, powerful and blissful climax. Tiny tears squeezed from the edges of her eyes as she froze above him, completely devoured by the glorious feelings racing through every muscle, every sinew, of her body.