Breaking the Fast

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.

It was at that very moment, as she knelt before him, enfolding his feet within her grasp, that she realized she was a slave for his body. Leaning over, she brought herself closer, her soft lips brushing against his sensitive soles. She traced the creases that lined them with her tongue, while her hands squeezed and caressed the top of his feet. His toes curled.

Her fingertips reached his ankles. Her tongue touched his toes. She bathed them in her hot wet mouth, taking them inside one at a time and gently sucking, letting her tongue wash over every surface, and sliding it in and out between each one. She looked up at him as she did this and saw that his eyes were closed and his lips slightly parted. He held that engorged cock in his right hand, while his left hand clenched at the crisp linen sheet. He didn't stroke it, just held onto it tightly, as if trying to contain it. She watched the droplets of clear fluid roll off of the plum-shaped head onto his fingers.

Long damp hair swept over limbs, tickling his skin, as she inched her way up his leg, caressing with her warm lips, her wet mouth, as she went. She laved the swirls of downy hair on his inner thigh and smelled the tang of his sex. Her mouth watered at the thought of tasting him. He wound his fingers in her blonde strands, pulling her closer to the throbbing staff he held, and she lapped up the cream that trickled down his fingers. The woman closed her eyes with a sigh as the salty essence of him awakened her tongue. She ravenously licked his fingers clean, her hands firmly pressing into his hips and down his outer thighs.

And while she savored his taste, her taut nipples skimmed along his body, taunting him, as her tongue snaked its way past the cock that was crying for her mouth to consume it. Instead, her tongue found his navel, and she plunged into the recessed hollow, while his wet cock lay nestled in between her plump breasts. Her tongue swirled around his belly and up towards his chest. His prick thrust through her twin mounds of flesh.

When her mouth claimed his nipple, her tongue flicking back and forth over the silver barbell that pierced the hardened nub, she knew that she would crave this man eternally. Beyond life or death. She would never cease to yearn for the taste of his skin, the sensation of his touch, the sound of his voice. Her tongue slid across his chest to lay claim upon the other nipple. She lapped at it furiously, nursed upon it, and grazed it with her teeth. The wet head of his penis prodded against her belly, seeking solace in her softness.

The beautiful man grasped her head in his hands. She relinquished his nipple as he brought her lips to his. Their mouths met and their tongues mated. Slowly. Deeply. He robbed her of her very breath, and just when she thought she would burst, he gave her his. His eyes were open as he kissed her, fathomless green seeing the desire that lay beyond her pools of liquid blue. He purposefully rocked his pelvis up against her body, nudging her with his need.

Raising her head, knowing she was not yet finished tasting him, that she was not yet done breaking her fast, she tenderly smiled down at him. Placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, she tasted the sweat from his brow, and rolled him onto his belly beneath her legs that straddled him.

She sat herself upon his bottom; he felt her wet pussy pressed against him, her decadent juices dripping down the crack of his ass to his balls. As hungry as she, he slid his hand to where she had saturated him. He cupped himself in his hand and smeared her wetness onto his fingers, then brought them to his mouth and tasted her once again.

Nimble fingers kneaded his broad shoulders, the sculpted muscles, as she eased her body down his back. She touched every square inch of skin, kissed every vertebrae of his spine, and when she reached those firm globes of flesh, she parted his cheeks with her hands and sweetly kissed what lie between. She felt his body quiver then. She could smell the commingled scents of their sex and it intoxicated her like a heady wine. And of it's own volition, her tongue reached out and swept up from that sweet spot behind his sack to the place where it had never ventured before.

He raised himself onto his knees, his hands clutching at the headboard. The woman followed him, holding his fine ass in her hands, her face pressing against him. Her hot wet tongue searched and delved, seeking the rosy aperture, wanting to invade it. She skimmed the puckered hole, swirling her saliva around the opening. His legs began to shake as she widened the opening with her fingers and pushed her tongue inside, at last tasting this part of him, and loving it. Loving every bit of him. Breathing in his scent. Feasting on his body. And as he pumped his hips in her steely grasp, futilely fucking the open air, while her tongue darted in and out of his quivering anus, she felt the hot fluid rush from her waiting pussy. And when she reached around him and took his surging cock in her hand, circling her fingers around the rigid staff, she almost came at the sound of his feral groan.

She pumped his cock with her hand, as she fucked his ass with her tongue. When she thought he could take no more, when his penis started to spasm within her fingers, she withdrew her tongue and sucked upon the hole, giving it one last lick, one last kiss. The man took hold of the dainty hand that stroked his dick, and reaching back with it, rolled her onto the bed. He quickly straddled her thighs, taking over, dominating her.

Restraining both of her wrists in one large hand, the man leaned forward holding her arms above her head, while he grasped his erection with his free hand. He rubbed the head of his cock on her glistening clit, teasing and taunting, watching it swell against him. She writhed her hips, vainly attempting to gain succor, but he tightened his legs like a vise around her, holding her prisoner within his muscled thighs. The tip of his dick circled around her clit, but never quite touched it, he was careful not to make contact with the pulsing point that would push her over the edge.

It was now his turn to feast, to titillate, to make her cry out his name again and again, so she would never forget that he was the only one who could possess her. Possess her body, her mind, her heart, and her soul. He released his cock and let it slide between her swollen pussy lips, the metal studs that adorned his shaft gliding across her throbbing clit. His hand covered her mouth to stifle her cry, to hear her at this moment would finish him off, and he was far from finished yet.

Slowly, he removed his hand, and replaced it with his mouth. He could taste himself upon her lips. He could still taste her juices that he had licked from his fingers. Salty. Nutty. Sweet. Musky. Placing a wrist in each hand, he held her arms apart on either side of her head and sucked her tongue into his hungry mouth. She filled him as no other had before. And as he laved a wet path to her rosebud nipples, he realized that it was she who possessed him. And as he suckled on the hardened point, pinching the other between his fingers, as her first wail of ecstasy began, he knew he was a slave to her body, as she was to his.

Wave upon wave washed through her as the sensation pounded from her nipples to her clit. She was a shivering mass of skin, muscle, and bone, by the time his mouth reached the sentient flesh between her thighs. He worked it with his velvet tongue, long slow licks up and down. And with each one, another moan escaped her lips and more of her juices flowed down her thighs. As if he knew that her empty pussy was aching to be filled, he thrust a finger inside. And then two. She came again, in his mouth, in his hand.

Liquid honey surged down his throat. It was hot and sweet. She quenched his thirst and he drank from her fountain with relish, still stroking the wet walls of her pussy with his fingers. For countless moments, hours, he satisfied them both, as her fingers twined in his dark hair and held him at her well. He drank until his cock cried out for release, until it screamed to be buried within her.

And then it was. Throwing her legs over his shoulders, he plunged deep inside her with a single thrust. Her slick wet walls enveloped his dick in her heat and he groaned at the exquisite sensation. Very slowly he withdrew until only the head remained, poised just inside her portal. The man looked down at his glistening penis, wet with the juices of her pussy. He felt her hands skim along his flanks, his ass, her fingers sinking into his flesh while arching her body, trying to bring him all the way back inside her. His gaze focused on her eyes then, sultry azure, and they told him all that he needed to know.

Fuck me, they said. And he did. He slammed his dick back into her hot wet hole, over and over again, her mewling cries urging him on.

Fill me, they cried. And he complied. Lifting her higher, he withdrew from her sodden pussy and thrust his cock in her tight little ass. He slid a finger inside of her, then two, and then three, fucking her pussy with his fingers, while his dick plunged in and out of her bottom hole. His thumb grazed her clit; red and swollen like a ripe berry.

Love me, they screamed. And he loved her. He loved her when she shouted his name as her body quaked with spasms. He loved her when his semen spewed from within him, erupting like a geyser, bathing her with his tribute. He loved her when, in the breathless afterglow, she kissed the sweat from his brow, wrapped him in her arms, and blanketed his body with her own.

Just before her eyelids closed, the woman gazed upon the glorious vision, the beautiful man that lay nestled against her asleep. Every feature of his face had been etched into her memory. And unlike a dream, his image would never fade away. It would always be there, a haunting comfort, forever ingrained. He would always be with her when she closed her eyes and the treasured remembrance of the hours spent spirited her to slumber.

Sated. Replete. The woman spooned herself against him and held his hand to her breast, drifting off to sleep, just as the sun reached it's zenith in the cloudless blue sky.