The Room
You get on the bed. On your knees you "walk" onto the sheets, still holding my cock. You can feel my pulse race in the palm of your grip.
The warm skin, the hard but spongy crown nestled in your palm. You release me and turn around, facing me. I’m standing at the bedside. You go down to your hands and knees, eyes level with my cock. Watching it bob and bounce in time with my heart. You take one hand and trace down its length with your fingernails, causing it to swell even larger. You take that hand and cup my balls, heavy in their sack. You bounce them in the palm of your hand. Holding onto them, you lean forward and taste the tip of me with your lips and you can feel my pulse with them. My crown is purple with desire, hard and yet still soft. Your tongue darts from between your rose lips, tracing around the edge, tasting the tiny slit. Your lips engulfing me, squeezing me, teasing me.
Laughing you sit back on your heels, then lean all the way backwards so you end up on your back and offer me a silk encased leg with toes pointed.
I kneel on the bed and start to roll the gossamer down your legs, tracing its path with licks and kisses. You watch me with eyes of mischief. Down your thighs, to your knees, your calves, and your ankles until it rolls off of your toes and onto the floor. I take a moment to massage the ball of your foot with my thumb, releasing the tension that's there. When you groan slightly I know I have found the spot and work on it for another minute or two. Turning slightly I pay attention to your other leg and roll its silken cocoon as well, administering more wet kisses and licks along its length, revelling in the firmness of your thighs, the shape of your calves. This foot is the same as the other, in need of a few minutes of firm pressure to cause you to close you eyes and exhale.
I finished with your feet, your eyes half shut, your breath regular and your breasts rising and falling, I reach down to the foot of the bed and take a half-melted ice cube from the champagne bucket. Leaning over you I run it over your lips, wetting them, watching as your tongue comes out to taste it, to dart along its surface, cold, wet and melting. I watch as your lips close around it, sucking on it, taking it into your mouth. Gently I pull it from you lips and run it down over your chin to the base of your throat. Then down your breastbone over the freckles that nestle between your breasts, under your right breast into the fold where it meets your chest around to top, across your freckles again and under your left breast, leaving a melting silver trail on your skin.
Once finished this circular route, I trace slow concentric circles on your right breast, drawing an intake of breath from you as the ice leaves an icy trail on you. I watch your face. Eyes still closed, biting your lower lip as the cube makes it journey slowly towards your nipple in smaller and smaller circles. Finally it reaches its goal. I trace around your areola, watching your already long nipple get larger. I run the cube across the nipple and it swells even further. You wince a little, as it is so hard and tight. To tease you more I lift the cube to your other nipple to see if it will do the same, and it does.
Now with my ice getting smaller and smaller, I palm it in my hand and commence my journey downward, between your breasts again, across your flat stomach, where you giggle as the icy drips run across your skin and tickles you. I stop for a moment to try to recover a rogue drop with my tongue. But I miss it as it hides around your diamond stud and then proceeds to drop into your belly button.
I have to stop now to recover a new ice cube as the old one has melted its last drop onto your skin.
