The air is thick, humming with anticipation. I feel it on my skin. Under it. Tingling my fingertips.

I know without knowing that you’re feeling the same. Our rendezvous is finally here. From the gentle testing of waters weeks ago, we’ve been drawing each other closer, deeper. A playful inquiry that quickly blossomed. Tentative nerves that melted in the warmth of a connection that took seed and bloomed more vibrantly with each exchange, as if wrapping us in its knowing embrace, tendrils reaching from the darkness, forming branches thick and strong as they extended and slid in and around each carnal thought. Holding tight. Squeezing my chest.

I’m waiting in front of the hotel as the car pulls up. As the back door opens, a foot softly swings out, carefully searching for the curb. I close the distance in four strides, opening the door and offering my hand in a single, fluid motion.  

I knew exactly what I was going to say to you. Each word painstakingly debated, reviewed and confirmed, rehearsed a thousand times in quiet stillness until they fused to each other and found completion, but as your smile emerges from behind the door, rising out, shining brighter than the blue summer morning, there are no words, no thought. Just primal urgency. Need.

Our hungry mouths rush to find each other, and our bodies lock in an electrifying burst that lights like a starburst behind my eyelids and tickles the back of my neck. Tongues dance eagerly, hands exploring, the bare skin of your back feeling soft and warm against the rough pads of my palms and fingers. I feel the tension, the nervousness, the lingering flicker of doubt that has been trapped in your body sigh in resignation, and retreat. Your whole being calms and melts.

I force myself to pull back gently, your mouth still eagerly chasing mine. “We should probably let the driver go.” I smile playfully. “What do you say?”

A flush spreads across your cheeks, and you grin sheepishly as I close the door and guide you across the lobby. It’s empty of guests. The hurried clickety clack of heels echoing loudly in the hushed silence betrays the facade of our outwardly calm, relaxed appearance as we make our way purposefully to the elevators.

The door swings open, and I hold it wide, mesmerised by the view of you as you squeeze by and into the room. The pretty spaghetti-strap sundress in lively, floral print –so simple yet timelessly elegant –sways seductively as you move, gently holding your shape as if in declaration of ownership, accentuating all the glorious rise and fall of your feminine outline.

The faintest tremble still in your step. The scent of your hair, thick and sweet. High voltage sizzles the air.

I feel myself stir.

I move silently up behind you before you can turn, snaking my arms around you, pulling you firmly against my hardening. I lean down, brushing your hair away, my mouth finding the heat of the nape of your neck, slow, lingering kisses as I hold you steady, your body yielding with a gentle sigh as you tilt your head, offering your throat to me. I draw you deeply into my lungs, savouring the heady combination of perfume scent mixed with your own, tracing you from your ear to shoulder with my mouth, one hand holding you in place –strong and reassuring –the other surveying every inch of you in a rhythmic flow, pausing only to cup your breasts in my palm as I hold you tight.

Your mouth strains to find mine, and I allow it, relaxing my hold just enough so that you’re able to turn into me, my hands slipping to your waist, yours instinctively moving up, curling over my biceps. The kiss is long and deep, undulating in a flow from playful to passionate to cheeky, tender to urgent. Again, and again. And again.

I firm my hands on your waist and gently pull back, lips tingling. I’ve not had a chance yet to see you, to really see you, and I’m determined to drink you in, my thirst so great there’s a part of me that wants to open my lungs wide and drown in you. I step back, holding your fingertips in mine, wanting to see all of you in frame, but unable to break the spell of contact with your skin.

“My god, you’re beautiful,” I breathe, my eyes tracing you slowly from head to toe and back again, stopping to lock gaze with yours, a slight flush of embarrassment crossing your face. “And now you’re all mine,” I grin cheekily, wiggling your hands playfully in mine.

A smile that would melt stone flashes across your face, and you step forward and begin to lower, but my grip on you tenses and gently lifts you back to your feet. Surprise and confusion curl your brow. I had told you that I was going to indulge you and spoil you rotten, and that is exactly what I’m going to do.

“Nuh ah,” I shake my head slowly in mock disapproval, ‘ladies first.’

I kiss you again, pausing only to lift the dress over your head, your arms raised in surrender. My hands find the intricate, soft lace of your lingerie, and I pause again, taking a half step back to admire you once more, feeling dreamlike as I take in each curve and marvel at your whole, as if my brain is committing you to memory on a thousand canvases all at the same time.  

I am so hard, it hurts.

I gently undo your clasp and let the bra slip away, gently pushing you back on the bed. You drift back and float on the cloud of bed covers, hair spread across the pillows as if unfurled by a breeze, arms peacefully extended wide. I quickly discard my shirt and lower to kiss you again. My lips arc across your jawline and down the curve of your throat, gently working your earlobes, then your neck. I then glide my way to the other side, all while one hand caresses you from knee to thigh to hip to waist and back again, keeping time to a slow, sensual, unheard beat that my thigh now joins, sliding up between your legs and gyrating against your mound.

Now you’re moaning, and I can sense your damp heat through my pants. I kiss you once more before pulling away and snaking my way down, tracing my tongue over your right breast, careful not to touch your nipple yet as I circle round and around your areola with just the tip of my tongue, faster and faster, like water escaping a drain hole. A gasp escapes your lips when I finally flick your nipple with my tongue, hard and red, like a perfect, sweet little raspberry. I pause for just a second to glance up, catching the spellbound look on your face before I start flicking your nipple rapidly with my tongue, waiting for you to settle and calm again before eliciting another gasp when I suddenly stop to bite gently and suck you like a teat. I move back and forth between your breasts like this, my back arched and my thigh still rubbing against you, until I sense the fever in your need.

My mouth moves again, kissing and licking an invisible path down to your belly button, over and across your stomach, a slight reflexive shiver and giggle escaping you as I move up, then down, the soft curve of your midaxillary line. One side, then the other. Then I move lower, tracing my tongue directly from your belly button to your mound. I feel you tremble as I kiss my way down over your mound to your inner thigh, then to your outer lips, delighting in the sound of your sharp gasps every time my mouth triggers a sparkle of pleasure. I’m careful not to touch you yet as I build the tension, compounding the tease by occasionally blowing a gentle blast of hot breath right on your clit.

You’re a raging inferno when I finally flick your clit with the faintest tip of my tongue, firing your whole body into spasm. A pattern sets in. Kisses around your now seething pussy, a tongue flick on your clit, lingering just a little longer each time, until my tongue transitions again, with a slow tempo of strokes from your perineum up to your clit. Up and down. Up and down. I look up and lock eyes with you, the quickened, heavy rise and fall of your chest lying as the magnificent landscape between us, as your moans become louder. Longer. My mouth, nose, cheeks, and chin – all a glazed mess. Tangy apple pie bubbling on every taste bud.

I begin to slowly both hasten and shorten the strokes of my tongue, so that soon the tip is flying like a hummingbird against your swollen ruby. Your eyes have closed, and your breathing shallowed as I slowly position two fingers at your entrance. You’re so wet that my fingers easily slip forward. I curl them into a hook, slowly massaging the curve of your anterior wall in slow strokes, a faint squishy pop each time I retract, a guttural groan on each gentle roll forward.

I debate whether to draw things out further, to tease you and edge you some more, but your desperation, your utter, frantic need for release, hangs heavy in the air, and in that moment, I want nothing more in all the world than to set you free.

With my tongue tip still buzzing your clit at a furious pace, I slide my fingers deeper, finding the jewelled surface of your G-spot. Your body quickly tells me when I have the pressure just right, and I begin to rapidly vibrate my fingers, curled and pressed snugly against you. You’re moaning hard now, head tossing from side to side, as my tongue and fingers lock into a frenetic rhythm, using my free hand to press my palm down across your pubic crest, fingers resting on your mound as your hips start to twist and press with more urgency, pressing firmly now to hold you down as my mouth stays mashed against you, and you’re starting to wail fuck yes fuck that’s so good oh fuck and now you’re using all your strength to push your hips against me in spasm and I hold you in place and your pussy is gushing and my forearm is on fire and I ignore the pain and I can feel what’s deep inside you and its racing toward the surface.

Then you scream, and I stiffen my fingers, holding them pressed inside you as violent convulsions ripple through my hand. Your head is tossed back, your back arched like an electric current is ripping through you, and you scream again as another convulsion rattles you. My tongue fights hard to stay on you while my fingers are still pressed, and you shudder uncontrollably, your orgasm going on and on.

Finally, the shudders fade and you fall back to the bed in a shiver, your body relaxing. I slow my tongue and ease the pressure of my fingers as you draw deep breaths. I gently kiss your pussy with my fingers still inside you, feeling my own heart pounding as your breathing slows. Then the long, deep sigh that has been trapped inside you forever finally escapes your lips, and suddenly I’m aware of the low rumble of the air conditioning unit.

I fall back against the pillows, and you instinctively slide into me, pouring yourself into the mould cast in the nook of my shoulder. Our breathing falls into harmony, and we lie entwined as you recover. A shimmering, pagan beast –its two heads resting nestled against each other while a sea of eight limbs gently ebb and flow, washing over its skin, twin chests rising and falling in unison.  

My hand moves its rhythm lower across you, and our lips lock again. Deep. Passionate. The nervous excitement that flittered and buzzed earlier has all dissolved and drained away; now there is just the hurried flames of burning desire. You shift your hips and ease your legs apart, and my hand finds you, silky and slick. I curl my palm over your mound and slowly slip two fingers across you, your swollen clit sliding up and down the track between them as I feather back and forth in a soft, rocking motion. Your moans tickle my lips each time they pass yours and spread across mine.

I move my hand lower and curl my fingers, sliding easily into you, hugging the contour of your anterior wall, the ball of my hand now gliding across your clit as my hand rolls across you. Your mouth draws tighter against mine, tongue pressing harder, urgent, insistent, as my hand moves faster, firmer. I pull away to move my mouth back down to your glistening slit, but your eyes open and you grab my shoulders.

“I need you to fuck me.”  A plea, half whispered, squeezed from the space between breaths.

My body hovers over yours, and your fingertips gently trace the corded veins snaking across my arms, shoulders and chest. My cock is iron. A glistening droplet wells in the eye of the thick, purple head. The shaft is rigid and straining, a balloon about to burst, a taut blue vein striding its length. I guide my head across your slick clit, your mouth crimping into a silent O as I tease us both, rubbing a light, circular pattern on you that shivers in my balls. I ease my cock lower, resting it against your silky folds. Your eyes find mine, and your hands slink up my arms in anticipation.  

I push gently forward, and you swallow my head and my whole being is suddenly focused inside a pinpoint, and I feel your heat and the hunger in your grip and the tingling on the back of the ridge of the head of my cock as it’s sucked inside you. A smile dances across the corner of your mouth, and I pause, framing our moment as our eyes embrace, then an unseen hand drags all the breath from both of us in a loud sigh, and your eyes snap wide, and I press our bodies firmly together and the only thing that exists in all the universe is right now being submerged in you.

The kiss is tender and warm, sweet with the celebration of being alive.

I tilt my pelvis back slightly, watching the sensation mirrored in the bliss which lights your face as I withdraw ever so slowly and stop, leaving just my throbbing head held inside you. Our moans harmonise on the next slow thrust, the soft cadence tailing as we mash and grind. Again and again, I ease my cock back, as if to draw breath, before plunging deep in a surging thrust, subtlety rotating and shifting with each stroke, your alternating gasps and whimpers further fanning the fire of my lust.

My arms anchor to the surface of the bed on each side of your head, palms splayed, and I roll into a deep, pounding rhythm. A slow-moving steam train –a hot, heavy, solid mass of steel and iron. A hypnotic thump reverberates into all four corners of the room. The jittery rattle of the alarm clock, vibrating violently on the bedside table, shakes to the beat.

“Fuck me harder, please, fuck me’, you wail, fingers clenching like a cat’s claws and burrowing into my chest, your nails biting into my skin.

Spurred on, I energise the intensity, fucking you harder, faster, my cock now pumping like a furious piston. A red mist of lust descends, and my heart starts to pound in my ears. A pearl of sweat tickles my nose and I fuck you harder still and there’s a dull slap each time my pelvis slams into yours and it forces a tiny grunt from your lolling mouth which is really cute because it sounds like you’re humming to the beat and the sharp ache in my balls each time they whip angrily against you and you’re moaning and crying out don’t stop I’m going to come again oh God I’m going to come and your fingers suddenly needle into my arms and your whole body tenses and you’re wailing and I mash myself hard against you and strain my hips and I’m pushing deep inside you and I feel your spasms violently rippling through my cock and I’m pressing down on you and you’re pushing up and you’re impaling yourself on me and your orgasm is still coming in waves and finally I feel it drifting away, and your body is relaxing, and my breathing calms, then your eyes focus on mine and I kiss you tenderly.

“Need a break?” I ask, teasing you with a slight tilt of my pelvis that makes you gasp, wide-eyed, and grin.

“Nuh uh. You?” I shake my head and look down, watching my still rock-hard cock ease out from you, your dewy petal lips closing silently as I slip out into the cool air.

My eyes are drawn back to yours, and the curious, faint smile now pulling at their corners.

“Roll over,” I command, leaning back on my haunches, my gaze now fixed on your naked form.

My breath stills, and I’m stunned into a stony silence, as if solemnly admiring the work of a true Grand Master. Then a flash, and I’m overcome with heaving lust, fixated on your red, swollen folds as you roll over, suddenly aching to slide my cock back into you. To have you. To empty myself deep inside you and make you mine.

You slide seductively onto your hands and knees and present a gorgeously rounded arse, the soft light in the room marking the curvature where your cheeks stretch over the pedestals of your hams. Your pussy, staring right at me, looks different from this angle. Thicker, fuller. Hungrier. My steely cock throbs as I ogle you, desperate to be buried to the hilt inside you.

The embers are burning deep in my eyes.

I grab the flesh of your glutes with both hands, firmly, marking them as mine, savouring the feel before gripping you tight and ducking my head forward, darting my tongue onto the crimped bud of your arse. You shudder and gasp in surprise, but I’m holding you tight, tickling your perineum with the tip of my tongue, before flicking it back to your little raisin. Then I move lower, hardening my tongue into a point and pushing it into your soft, warm folds, thrashing and pulsing, the muscles in my tongue straining as they push against your walls.

My need to fuck you senseless is all-consuming, and so I pull back, shuffling forward to line the thick head of my cock up against you. There is no teasing or build-up this time, just a careful press as you greedily envelop my glans, and then a deep sigh of ecstasy as I push forward slowly, watching you swallow me inch by inch. I’m slowly rocking back and forth, strong hands spanning your waist, guiding you back in long, deep thrusts, each one crashing heavily like waves on a darkened beach in the moonlight.

“Oh fuck that feels so, so good,” you whimper, my eyes fixed on the glorious curve of your crevice, fanning up and out from the dark bud of your arse. Just below, your skin is stretched tight around my rigid cock, disappearing inside you. Again and again.

Your arm burrows under the pillows and re-emerges, triumphantly holding aloft a bright pink vibrator. My balls tingle the instant you press it against your clit, and a low moan escapes your lips. I pause with just the head of my cock held in you, my slick shaft shining like polished marble. With a swift, shallow rocking of my pelvis, I start massaging the head on your entrance –in and out, in and out –and the feel of your pussy sucking on my glans like a big, purple lollipop, fans out warmly from my waist in a tingle of tiny lightning flashes.

I push forward with a long thrust, your gasp sharp as I bury myself to the hilt and hold still for a breath, before starting to fuck you again in long, deep, slow thrusts, pausing each time to press hard up against you.

“Oh fuck. It’s so deep. It’s so deep.” You repeat in a soft groan, my hands still locked onto your waist, pulling you back to meet each thrust. I slide the tempo faster, maintain the long, deep thrusts, moving my hand over the centre of your cheeks, splaying my hand wide across the cleft and resting the pad of my thumb against the wrinkled entrance to your arse, massaging it gently.  

Your groans are getting louder, and your head drops forward as I start to pound you fast, hammering hard into your pussy. I’m dimly aware over the drumming in my ears of the cacophony in the room that is both trance inducing and hot as fuck - the buzz of the vibrator, the slap of my hips into your arse and your staccato squawks, the rattle of the alarm clock, the thunder of the bed against the wall, and the grunts rumbling from somewhere in my chest.

I ease my thumb gently into the tight warmth of your puckered arse, slipping slowly to the first knuckle and curling slightly, massaging you with my thumb in slow, shallow strokes, feeling my cock as it hammers into your pussy. You’re wailing like a banshee now, your cries partially muffled by the pillow pressed against your face, and I’m fucking you hard. I feel the sweat glistening on my chest, and there’s a tingling deep inside my core.

I’m transfixed, staring at you, held firmly in place and unable to move but giving yourself completely to me as my hips repeatedly smash against you, and you’re starting to shout now, oh fuck oh fuck I’m going to come again. The tingling in my balls is now bubbling and getting hotter and hotter, and I can feel the convulsions from inside you as your orgasm crashes over you, and it feels like I’m oscillating inside myself.

The pressure suddenly gushes in a torrent, and I shout you’re going to make me cum, and it roars up through my balls and down the full length of my cock like a geyser, and fireworks dazzle in my eyes and all their brightness thumps loudly in my ears. My core jolts with a sizzling flash three, four, five, six times, and your contractions milk every drop from me, and my chest is heaving, and my legs feel wobbly, and I’m steadying myself with a hand on your back. Your skin feels so warm, and I’m taking deep breaths, and the air is cool as I suck it into my lungs, and your pussy feels so wonderful wrapped around my cock that I don’t ever want to take it out.

The faint cool of damp on the crumpled pillow tickles my neck as we lie in a tangled heap. Your head rises and falls as it rests on my chest, your hair flared out and exhausted, one leg draped over mine, locking our two pieces perfectly into place. Silence floats down like a crisp, white sheet, coming to rest in a soft drape over us both.

“Well,” I eventually exhale, breaking the spell and marking it with a kiss on your forehead, “I must say, I’m having the best day I think I can remember for a very, very, long time. More importantly, though, how are you? Do we call that a pass mark, so far?”

Your side hug squeeze is strong and full-hearted. “Yeah,” you grin cheekily, “I think it just scrapes over”. You lift your cheek from my chest, turning up so our eyes meet. “But I feel a bit selfish. I didn’t do anything for you.”

I cup the side of your face gently, thumb resting on your temple, and kiss you tenderly. Your mouth is warm and soft, like butter. “I tell you what,” I offer, feeling a smile split and warm my face. “Let’s go and enjoy our lunch reservation, and then we have the whole rest of the day to continue where we left off. How does that sound?”