All through the night, their bodies writhed, limbs entwined, drowning in the vast abyss of unabandoned desire. And in the misty morning light, just as the sun began its climb into the eastern sky, her eyelids languidly opened to the glorious vision that lay nestled against her in sleep.
Gingerly, so as not to awaken him, she placed one fingertip on his broad muscular shoulder and slowly traced a path down the arm that rested atop the linen sheet. She relished the feel of his skin beneath hers, silky soft and firm. Reaching his hand, and the long strong fingers that had given her so much pleasure, she stopped, and kissed them, taking them one by one into her mouth. She could still taste herself upon them. He stirred then, but did not wake. Creeping out from under the cool linen sheet, and tucking it around him, she tiptoed silently across the room. She stopped at the bathroom door and glanced back at the man sleeping on the bed, etching every feature of his beautiful face into her memory, as if, like a dream, he might fade away with the flight of night and completely vanish with the rising sun.
Stepping into the shower, cascades of hot water rippled down her skin in waves, while clouds of billowing steam rose up and wrapped her body in it's misty shroud. She closed her eyes, skimming her hands across her body, sliding them over her aching breasts, still swollen from his expert touch, the erect nipples protruding between her slippery fingers. At once, a flutter began in those hardened points, and it blossomed within her body, flourishing in the sentient flesh guarded by the puffy lips of her sex. Her hand followed the rush of sensation, over the curve of her belly, to the place that throbbed.
Desire. It cried out from every cell and flooded every pore as the tips of her fingers slid lightly over her engorged clit. And while he had given her countless orgasms during the night that was all but gone, there was an insatiable need to feel her body shatter yet again.
Her head tilted slightly back underneath the gentle spray, water trickling down her face, as she traced deliberate circles upon the pulsating feminine flesh. The muscular walls of her pussy clenched down on nothing. Empty. At once, she longed for the feel of his hard cock, and plunged two fingers deep, stroking the wet inner walls. It was not enough. It would never be enough again.
Urgently, she thrust inside and withdrew, again and again, in an attempt to recreate the soaring heights he had taken her to, that mystical place one reads about in a novel, but few ever really attain. She added another finger, gliding three of them in and out of her glistening hole, while she worked her clit with a frenzy, faster and faster.
It came without warning, and for a few moments time stood still. She thought her heart had stopped beating when she felt her body explode, releasing a howl of ecstasy loud enough to wake the dead, and yet as her knees gave out from beneath her, and her hand groped along the wet tiled walls as she slid to the shower's floor, it's pulse was almost visible, beating fast and furious beneath her breast.
As she rested her head against the cool tile walls, the soothing water coming down upon her, the man left upon the bed opened his sea green eyes and smiled. The woman's passion-filled cries had woken him, and for one confused moment he presumed he was dreaming, pleasantly so, of her satin-soft body wrapped around him, riding his rigid cock.
Without any thought at all, his hand reached out and grasped his swollen shaft, taunting himself with an unhurried stroke from the base to the tip. A drop of fluid welled up from it's opening, and he spread it over the head of his penis with his thumb. Coating it. Lubricating it. He closed his eyes, and could almost feel her tongue licking the pre-cum from his dick, her hot wet mouth closing over him.
The woman peeked out from behind the bathroom door, her blue eyes fixed upon the beautiful man that lie atop the bed, rampant erection in hand. With deft silence, she padded across the room to kneel upon the carpeted floor at the foot of the big poster bed, and it was if she had never been sated, as if she was starving and needed to feed, and only he could appease her hunger.
