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An Ancient Love Story

An Ancient Love Story

Together for years, some lovers still delight in their lovemaking.
This story available only on Lush Stories. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.

She was awakened by a gentle slap of thin lunar air as the sheets were softly moved aside. The watery half-light gently seeped through her nightgown, a drifting mist that made her curving limbs glimmer. As she floated towards the surface of her somnolent depths, she smiled, not quite blushing at her nakedness, but keenly aware that her bare skin under the nightgown was regarded with a keen, yet sleepy eye.

He stretched, breathing deeply, gathering together what tiny warmth he had been conserving and willing it into his hands. His fingers gently, lightly, slowly, trailed across the bed sheets, carefully brushing aside the silky fabric of the waist-deep neckline. Firmly but softly, he traced the lines of her body. From her long tresses with their rich hues of summers past, curled and waved from the passage of the night; following the strong of her jaw; down her elegant neck; over the round of her shoulder and upper arm, diverting down with that gathering strength to cup her heavy breast and lightly tweak her large and beautiful nipple. His head sleepily moved towards it, a tiny mountain of fleshy perfection, cold and standing proud in the early light – at least one part of her was fully awake.

She sighed. His lips gently kissed her, his ear quietly nuzzling between her breasts in between a slow line of kisses around her areola, spiralling until reaching her nipple, and suckling gently, letting her feel the edge of his teeth but not causing her pain. Rude awakenings, like an icy springtime, were not his style. He kissed his way to her other nipple, finding the bed stopped him having full access. His placed his hand on her shoulder and firmly pushed her away from him onto her back. He gazed down at her, the warmth of his smile shining onto her sleepy body. His eyes, now more alert, wandered over her, seeing her from the side. He watched the half-curve of her smile, and the soft pocket of fat just below her chin that spoke of winter comforts and other plump delights he could find elsewhere on her body.

Just as his hands had followed her curves from head to shoulder to arm to breast, so his eyes followed the track, stopping for a moment to gaze on her right nipple, her full breast now sagging towards him, as if asking for his mouth to suckle a while longer. He forced himself away from that beauty to concentrate on others further down. The back of his hand traced from her armpit, down past her breast, his thumb momentarily brushing that begging nipple, and bringing forth another sigh. Her lungs were rising and falling, less steadily now, her body responding where her mind was not yet awake.

The back of his hand now neatly lay in the big curve of her waist between torso and hips, her nightdress now a hindrance. He followed that curve down to where her large thighs joined her hip, and the palm of his hand took over, still flat against her body, creeping over the top between the swell of her stomach and the smaller swell of her most sacred protection.

In a sudden burst of energy, he rose up onto one knee, threw the other over her until he straddled her just above her knees, and tore that diaphanous gown from waist to hem! Her eyes opened, startled. She looked at her nakedness completely laid bare before him, and then up at his eyes, warm and golden. He looked hungry, and she was his food. She smiled and raised an arm above her head, stretching blissfully as her lover watched her breasts and round stomach rise as she curved her spine backwards like a rainbow. With no need to speak, she asked him to take her. The remnants of the flimsy gown were still over her shoulders, the rising mists of morning being burned off in the new day’s heat. And her body was open and asking.

She closed her eyes, a smile still playing on her lips. His hands, now hot and ready, began at the base of her neck, and he leaned over her to plant one firm kiss on her moist lips. His tongue, as surprising as when he had ripped her garment, suddenly dipped deep into her, bringing forth a gasp of delight and pleasure. But she had no time to respond to such wonders, as his mouth left hers and his hands, firm and warming worked from her shoulders, down her outer arms to her wrists, then straight onto the outer edge of those large hips, grabbing handfuls of soft, peach skin flesh. They spoke of ripe potential as he continued back up her outer edge, past that deep womanly valley of a waist, up her well-covered ribs, desperate to save her breasts for the journey back. From her shoulders again, but on her top side now, his hands, searching and flat against her thick form, meandered heavily and firmly.

Kneading handfuls of her plump flesh, he grasped one large breast in both hands and dipped his head, following the same path as before, but more urgent this time. Licking and kissing in ever-decreasing circles, his mouth took her nipple in again, smoothing out the little puckers and teasing and clamping down with his lips over his teeth until he could feel her hips moving under him, rising towards what she knew was ready for her. He moved again to her other breast, unhindered and rhythmic now, leaving glistening pathways of marked ownership. He continued teasing and suckling until her arms came down to rest on his shoulders and his curly gold hair, winding her fingers through, grabbing any heat from him that she could.

He kissed next between her breasts, flicking his tongue here and there, gently biting mouthfuls of warm flesh as his hands kneaded down alongside his lips. She could not help but respond with tiny tremors and new awakenings of deep nerve endings that rose to greet his caresses and touches, growing and stretching towards the wake of the tingles he left behind. Sweat sprang from her as her precious lusts were brought to greet the day, tiny beads of prickling fancies that savoured both the attention and the memory of love-makings past.

He shifted down her body until his mouth was at her belly button, a deep concave hollow that held a promise of inner parts not far from there. He traced around the edge with his tongue, his hands still kneading and squeezing her large, fruitful stomach. She shifted her hips again, willing him to go further faster, but he took his time, warming and heating the areas from her ribs to her hips.

“Please,” she said. He knew what she meant. He smiled at her yearning, his own heat rising to a temperature that was getting very uncomfortable. By this point, every sense was awake, every part of her keening and climbing to reach his body, to feel every part of him soaking into her, to fill her and heat her and bring her to joyful release.

And so, hands still kneading her large and heavy hips, his mouth moved ever down, kissing, licking, and breathing hotly over the traversed lands of her folded flesh between stomach and sacred mound. Released mostly from his physical weight, and held down only by his heat, she spread her legs for him, to display the entrance to her inner sanctum, the glistening cave of treasure that he loved so much, that he would do all he could to access, no matter what her mood. A small forest of darkness surrounded large, padded lips, with the inner petals peeking out and shining wetly; he gazed ardently on her, breathing and blowing, kneading her buxom thighs and pushing his own hips against the bed in his eagerness.

Unable to control himself any longer, he thrust his mouth and nose into her small glistening valley, smiling at the squelch as her sweet fragrant juices smeared over his face, licking and sliding his tongue up and down, sucking whatever he could get between his lips and wiggling the tip over the hard nub of her swollen clitoris.

She was lost in her own world, yet still keenly aware of his heavy heat on her, his tongue roiling up and down her core lines, her old lover still working his magic as if it were their first years together. Her breasts and stomach rising to greet the air above her, every sense within her was growing and desperate for his touch, to feel his caress inside and out.

Finally, before his tongue had made its way down to enter the sweet darkness of her, he was climbing up her body, past the sacred hood, over the rolling hills of her stomach, not even stopping to gently graze the soft mountains, and as his tongue entered her mouth, so too did his hard, hot penis enter her. It slid easily into the opening, her smeared juices coating his dark, wanting head, and as he pushed more towards her tighter centre, he could feel her meeting him as she squeezed her inner walls together, doing her best to mimic his earlier kneading of her body.

Heat on her, heat in her, a furnace blasting her above and inside her, turning her core to molten rock, her lusty breathing sucking in the musky sweat of his neck as he slid in, withdrew, slid in, withdrew further, slid in almost all the way, continuing until just the aching tip of him was inside her, until his full length was enveloped by her and his balls kissed her skin…

Her world was now heat upon heat, her ripe juices flowing and the fruit of her secret places rushing out to greet the world, calling for inspection and care and succour… and he was lost in his own frenzy, boiling in his passion for her, his plump, juicy lover, the one in whom he found his satisfaction, she in whom he found release and a meeting of purpose.

Every hot thrust, every gasp and squelch and slap of flesh on flesh was the pure reason for being for the two lovers, the fulfilment of their potential, the manifestation of their being made perfect. Faster and harder, hotter and deeper, no more time to play around, only time to suffuse themselves in each other until the blinding white hot release came drenching down, flooding them in gallons of burning waves of blistering joy. Like the roaring flames of the fire, like the peak of fever, breaking point came and after the hiss and sizzle of sweat on hot steel, came the glowing embers of the bonfire, the real heat in which the best cooking is done, preserving the rich, ripe flavours, the house is heated best, driving away all damp and cold.

He lay on top of her, that happy, spent lover, still inside her, as she lay under him, that happy, spent lover, and the autumnal end of their lovemaking found them finally nestled in each others’ arms. His now weak fingers rested on one of her large breasts which gleamed in the half-light, and she pulled the snowy eiderdown over them. They were ready for the night of winter’s darkness.

Those two ancient lovers, Earth and Sun, slept once more.

This story available only on Lush Stories. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright ©2017 Daisy Shylass. All Rights Reserved. This material may not be reproduced, displayed, modified or distributed without prior permission. Please be respectful of my intellectual property.

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