Devilish Principles

Dark seemed to cloak her body, amber beacons tethered on candlesticks fought back the ubiquitous obscurity. She lay on the mercurial silk sheets, writhing face down as carnal hunger ravaged her. Curtains of satiny blonde hair fell over warm chocolate brown eyes as she nibbled the tip of her thumb, ripe fruits that were lips pouted and rolled over the poor substitute her digit posed.

She needed satisfaction, direly.

Her hands dragged down the length of her taut, voluptuous form, fingertips leaving trails of goose-flesh as they did. They started at her dainty collar bone down towards the tops of her spilling bosom, which were pressing desperately against the thin veil of her forest green V-neck shirt. Two bullets peaked at the tantalizing mounds. She had to free herself; before the thought was finished her shirt was over her head post-haste, and flung carelessly across the room, lost in the darkness. Cool air caressed against her naked flesh as a lover might: carefully, slightly, gingerly.

But her breasts were not the last stop her adroit digits craved, only a pit-stop on a winding road of satiation. Descending, those naughty tools of her desire's fulfillment trailed down her navel, circling as she did, to toy and tease herself, to coax the already hungry craving gnawing at her.

Fingertips waited at the border of her simple pink and purple striped undies, ten tourists waiting to cross the boundary into a realm of untold pleasure. The mystery woman bit her lip, looked down at her hands and slid her one hand over the flat expanse over her shrine, the curtain of chastity-her panties-the only thing in-between a slowly moistening spot. But just as she made tight circles over her Mecca of rapaciousness, another hand, foreign to hers took hold of it.

Her eyes were shut so tightly, she hadn't realized another person stepped into the room. He was taller than her, that much was certain without her even needing to arise from her nest of salacity, strong muscular like a brick-shithouse. But his movement was deliberate, suave.

He gave the back of her palm a kiss, the stubble from his lip tickling the tender flesh. And without saying a word, without a signal from her, the man knelt at the edge of the bed where her body was sprawled out spread-eagle.

Powerful, but gentle hands took hold of her thighs, parting them attentively, and laying a series of gentle kisses along the inner part of her thigh, slowly proceeding up. She watched, her hungry, sage green eyes drank in the sight of him ambling upward, the building anticipation of lips ascending towards her temple, the nexus of her aching and the source of her relief.

"Please..." she begged, speaking finally, her sweet voice carrying throughout the inky blackness of the room.

He looked up, smirked haughtily. She would appreciate the suspense, he thought as he approached the lower boundary of her undies, stopping, then switching to the other thigh just to tease her.

"Pllllllleeeeassseee...." she pleaded again; her need was tangible, thick enough to slice and serve as a dessert.

Yet it was not enough. His mouth tired with the now slightly damp thighs of his enigma lover, and he planted his lips onto the pink and purple prison from which her passion was sequestered, running his bottom lip over the outline of her twitching sex. Her thighs tried to close, but his hands pried them open firmly but with care while his lips puckered over the soaked undergarments.

He drew back, which made the sable haired beauty's eyes shot open, momentarily believing the turmoil she was enjoying was naught but a dream. But there he was, smiling and licking his lips like some voracious beast. The amber light caught the hard lines of his deeply freckled face: dark almond eyes,an aquiline nose, hanging over full Cupid's bow lips. He wiped the small sprinkling of dew from his face, rubbed the stubble forming at his strong chin, and swept the chestnut hair that was sticking to his forehead away.

He didn't say anything, he just smirked haughtily at her as her body shivered some. Wordlessly, he drew closer and prostrated himself before her once again, though this time he took hold of the fabric of her undies between his teeth oh so gently and pulled them down agonizingly slowly. By the time they were at her ankles, she kicked them off--now tired of the foreplay. Her hand grasped a handful of his hair and pressed his face against her core. Fireworks went off in her brain as his tongue trailed her nether-lips, tracing their shape with meticulous care. Steely fingers clenched her thighs, rubbing and kneading in small circles as his bottom lip nuzzled her sexual sentinel standing atop her temple. It stood erect, as he flicked the pointed edge of his tongue against it, one hand came and joined the fray.

He slid his index along the line of her nether-lips, stroking the fold of wettening flesh as his mouth went to work on her clitoris.

It felt as if someone hooked her to a live wire, jolts of electricity crackled from her quim and exploded in chain lightning all along her limbs, making every erogenous zone she had incense with the need to be handled the way her shrine was.

She stroked his hair, but kept his mouth in place, should he feel the need to tease her anymore. He planted a quick kiss upon it and rolled his head back so her grip slipped free. The mystery man stood and unbuttoned his jeans, slowly lowering the zipper.

He looked down mischievously, as he reached into the front pocket and unearthed the instrument that would liberate her.

The lothario's pants fell, her eyes didn't move. In his hand was a magnificent edifice, a throbbing, pulsing scepter which he slowly worked a hollowed fist over. She eyed it, biting her lip as he knelt before her once again. He pressed her down flat to the bed, his eyes never left her gorgeous visage, and with his other he guided it between legs in one fluid motion. The aching, the need, the burning all melted away as every inch of him encompassed her. He took himself to the root, their bodies were as close as they'd ever get. She arched her back, wrapping her legs around his waist as he attempted to withdraw in agonizing fashion. Her hands gripped his waist, trying desperately to hold on as her passion took over her body, all logic flew out the window, and nothing else mattered.

Time stood immemorial as he worked his way inside her, outside her, his pressing hand worked its way to her bosom, clutching one softly. His pace hastened, her breathing became labored, her vision slipped from her as her eyes rolled senselessly around in her head. A moan broke from his throat, a low bassy groan that was drawn out as she clenched around him when he tried to withdraw.

"My turn," she uttered, her words were raw, drowning in sex now.

She barely recognized herself as she rolled him over onto his back, she now was dominant. She placed her hands on his chest and gyrated on his love-lever, small Figure-8 symbols her hips made.

Another moan, this time it was her, as his staff filled her up, not one bit of her was unoccupied. She stopped and crouched, he still resided within her, and she bobbed her ample bottom up and down onto him. He gripped the sheets, muttering words of adoration, softly swearing as she rode him. Waves crashed over her, each heartbeat of hers crescendoed, her breath was a rattling toccata of desperation, coming closer to a grand finale unlike any her fingers could've brought her earlier. She climbed off of him, much to his dismay and confusion to lay on her stomach, her bottom raised in the air, cheek against the slippery sheets, knees apart.

He wasted no time: he rose quickly and pressed his face to her frothing loins, planting a kiss that made her toes curl and her hands clutch the sheets helplessly. She struggled against her own coming climax, but he was far from over. He took position behind her and slid himself inside her, ferally. The intimacy was there, but it was purely animalistic now. He drilled, every thrust of his spear hitting home. She reached between her thighs, and frantically rubbed her aching clitoris as he plowed into her. He clutched her hips, she felt him twitch inside her and simultaneously, in some grand fashion, they both climaxed. Violently. Shockwaves ripped through her, leaping to him as they both shivered and trembled, a hot rush of his seed emptied inside her. Breathing slowed, and all began to fade, as he collapsed, taking her with him. The candles flickered, and extinguished and inside her, side by side, the two strangers in the night, slept better than they either had alone.

END.