A Piece of Paradise

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Then I began to nibble my way down his body. My lips nipped at his chin and the skin of his throat before my tongue swirled softly in the hollow of his collarbone, savoring the hint of salt on his flesh. My palms were running over him restlessly, almost as if I were trying to memorize the curves and angles of his body.

I dipped my head lower and captured his right nipple in my lips sucking it softly, making it pucker and harden. As I heard him groan from the silky sensation of my tongue on the crinkled tip, I bit down, once. His body jerked under my sudden assault. My lips drifted to his other nipple, drawing it in, licking it wet. My hands gently caressed his body, which was tense and knotted in anticipation of my next bite, which never came. As I continued to wash his nipple with soft, feline sweeps of my tongue, he reached downwards and I felt him heft the weight of my breasts in his palms, gently kneading them. His hands on my breasts were a welcome relief and I stayed absolutely still, savoring for a few moments his gentle ministrations.

As my lips drifted lower, I could sense the urgency in his body. By the time I reached his navel and my tongue swirled in its hollow, his hips were surging of their own accord, fucking the tip of his erect cock into the hollow of my throat, staining my skin with a silvery trail of pre cum.

I gripped his cock in my fist, stilling him, my fingers barely closing around its girth. I gazed hungrily at his beautiful swollen flesh for a long moment before enveloping his purple knob in the wet heat of my mouth. As I worked my tongue softly around the head, he moaned like he was in pain and I felt his thighs tremble beneath my palms. When my mouth released him and I stood up, he groaned in frustration.

"Lets make you more comfortable," I whispered, pulling him towards the bed.

When I had laid him out flat on his back, his cock erect and quivering, I crawled between his thighs and once again engulfed his throbbing flesh in my mouth. I worked on him with long even strokes of my lips, plunging him balls deep into my throat and then drawing him out, wet and glistening. When I felt him go rigid on the verge of a cum, I released him and shifted my attention to his balls.

I ran the flat of my tongue over the velvety skin, laving him. When he was dripping wet, I drew his balls, one by one, into my mouth, sucking them softly before taking them between my teeth, gentle as a tigress picking up her cub. I switched again and again between his yearning cock and his balls, now tight with desire, coaxing him to the edge of release and then easing him back. His body was now trembling steadily, unable to cope with the river of sensation flowing through his loins. I dragged the length of my body along his until my lips were level with his ears.

"Have you ever come in a woman's mouth?" I whispered.

"No..." His voice was hoarse as though he had been screaming for hours.

"Pity. If I didn't want to fuck you so badly, I would have let you come in mine."

His body jerked, his mind now filled with images of his cock twitching in my mouth, his cum gushing down my throat. I wondered idly as to the sort of sex he must have had up to that moment. Probably the kind that most young men of his age had, I surmised – some clumsy groping in the dark of a theatre, a hasty fumble in the rear seat of a car or frenzied copulation on sweat stained sheets in dingy rooms. This was going to be different. Not fast food eaten on the run, but a gourmet meal savored slowly.

I gazed into his eyes, now glazed over with lust.

"Would you like to taste me, baby?" I asked.

"Oh, God, Yes...please."

"Would you like me to suck your cock while you eat my pussy?" I asked him, knowing what the answer would be, but wanting to hear the words and the desperate hunger in his voice.

"Yes ... Oh. God, Yes."

I shifted my body until my knees were on both sides of his head and brought my pussy down towards his face. He eagerly reached upward, gripped my hips in his hands and pulled my cunt into the waiting warmth of his mouth. I sighed softly as his tongue slid through my slick folds to probe at the opening of my hot yearning hole. As his tongue thrust upward, fucking me, I reached for his cock and pulled it back into my waiting mouth. We maintained the rhythm for some time, his cock fucking my mouth and his tongue fucking my cunt until our movements, made clumsy by pleasure, began to become jerky and ragged.

As my own pleasure began to mount, my free hand began to work spasmodically on his balls, squeezing them, kneading them before drifting lower to brush across the puckered opening of his anus. His reaction was explosive. His hips jerked upwards, thrusting his cock deeper into my mouth and he moaned into my wet cunt.

I found his response to my questing finger incredibly arousing. My ass is extremely sensitive to any attention – from an inquisitive finger, a wet tongue or a hard throbbing cock. I love those times when I have a lover who shares my weakness. I hadn't come yet, but this was something I wanted to pursue. There is nothing I enjoy more than stretching the sexual boundaries of my young lovers, introducing them to new sensations, uncovering hidden kinks and awakening dormant hungers. But I knew that I would have to take this gently. I would have to drown his hesitation in a slowly spiraling whirlpool of pleasure, gradually peel away every layer of shame and fear and misgiving until he was a whimpering mass of flesh in my arms, eager and hungry and pliant. Then I would make him mine.

I gently lifted my pussy free of his lips and crawled down his body. I crouched between his legs, lifted his thighs and pushed them back and out, opening him up fully. I ignored his hard throbbing cock which was begging for attention, dipped my head lower and began to make slow lingering love to the soft brown hole of his anus.

As my tongue slid, soft and wet, over the folds radiating outwards from his puckered hole, he moaned. His fingers had turned into claws, helplessly clutching sweat soaked fistfuls of the counterpane. I continued to work on him, tasting him, teasing him, taunting him until he was so wet that my tongue almost skated over the slick surface of his sensitive skin. I decided to get him even wetter. I squeezed a blob of lubricant gel onto my fingertip and began to work it into his anus. His body was no longer able to remain still. It was jerking like a marionette, his movements serving to ease, in some small measure, the erotic tension coursing through his limbs.

I reached forward, placed my palm beneath his head and lifted, forcing his eyes to meet mine as the tip of my finger delicately probed the entrance to his butt hole.

"Do you want me to fuck your sweet tight ass, baby?" I asked him gently, the tightness in my voice betraying my own desire.

He didn't answer, shame raging with desire in his eyes. I decided to make up his mind for him. I thrust my finger smoothly into his anus, burying it to the root. The muscles of his ass clamped around my finger, hot and pulsing.

"You know you want it. Tell me you want it."

As my finger twisted in his guts, the fleshy pad of my forefinger caressing the pea shaped lump on his inner wall, he finally lost all semblance of control.

"Oh, God, yes ... fuck me ... please," he begged.

Then I began to fuck him, my finger sliding slowly all the way out of his anus and then driving back in spreading open the tight tissues of his ass. I watched him while I fucked him, watched the shadows of hunger and helpless desire which had now taken possession of his soul flit across his face.

"Has anyone ever done this to you before?" I asked him, coyly.

"No," he groaned.

"Are you glad that I am doing it?"

"Yessss," he hissed, his eyes almost incredulous as if wondering why I needed him to answer that question when his body was doing it for him. But then, how was my young lover to know how much I wanted him to say the words, how much it turned me on to hear him beg?

As my finger slid smoothly in and out of his ass, I clutched his cock in my free hand, not stroking him lest the friction should tip him over the edge. Pre cum was now bubbling out of his cock hole and I periodically dipped my head to sip the silvery droplets as they formed. The sight of my finger fucking his ass, pulling out and pushing in the fleshy ring by turns, was heady. For a fleeting moment, I caught myself wishing I had a thick fleshy cock to plunder that sweet flesh with.

My cunt was on fire and unbearably empty, a void that now desperately needed filling, to be stuffed to the brim with hard throbbing flesh. As I withdrew my finger from his anus, his body lurched towards it blindly, begging it back in. I stroked his cheek languidly with the finger that had given him so much pleasure and he looked at me with an expression in his eyes that was a heartbreaking mixture of shyness and gratitude. That expression alone was worth my entire trip to this magical island. And I knew that I could no longer wait to claim him.

"Time to finish you," I said, my voice now husky with a hunger that I could no longer disguise, "I want to fuck you now."

His eyes were full of longing as I got on my knees, gripped his cock and placed the tip at the entrance to my hot yearning hole.

"Look at me," I said, as I slid all the way down his hard shaft, soaking him in the hot juices of my cunt. He held my gaze, his eyes widening, as his cock parted the tissues of my cunt, then rolled his head back as my pussy lips finally kissed his groin wetly. I placed a fingertip on his chin and tipped his face back towards me.

"Look at me when I fuck you," I repeated, as I began to rise and fall on his cock, "I want to watch as the pleasure takes you."

I had held him – his mind, his body, his pleasure – for so long in a firm grip and now that the grip had finally eased, I knew he could not last. I wanted to savor every moment. I love to watch and feel a man cum. That moment before he explodes is unbearably erotic – his eyes glazed and unseeing; his wrists lax; his balls tight; his body rigid, desperate for release. And then that frozen moment melts into that final explosion when he is helpless and vulnerable, his cock twitching and jerking like a runaway hose, shooting jets of cum to splash against the walls of my engorged cunt. At that moment, I truly love him for however brief an interval – for his act of surrender, for the pleasure that he gives me and the pleasure that he allows me to give him.

When he finally came, his hips arched off the sheets, lifting me with him, his fingers scrabbling blindly - on my arms, my thighs, my hips. His explosive orgasm triggered my own gentler one, as his cock drenched the walls of my cunt with cum. He was in exquisite agony; pleasure and pain now indistinguishable, my spasming pussy milking his exploding cock of its last drops of cum. My body was trembling like a mound of jelly and I fell on him, breathing in ragged gasps.

There are times when I like to be alone after sex and can't wait to see my lover on his way. This was not one of those times. I ran my fingers tenderly over his heaving body as we lay locked together in the aftermath of our orgasms. This one would certainly keep till breakfast, I decided, smiling to myself, as my breath steadied and my body relaxed. As I drifted off into sleep, I dreamt of croissants and oven rolls, butter and marmalade. Maybe I would slather his trembling cock with honey in the morning and suck him off. No man should die without having come in a woman's mouth.

*****

As I lay in the bath, my mind reliving the events of the night before, I felt the familiar tendrils of desire unfurl inside my body, moistening my cunt. Maybe I would have him over tomorrow for a goodbye fuck before I left Maui. Maybe I would let him have my ass. As I cradled him in my arms in the morning, toying with his aroused flesh, I had stripped his soul bare. I had wrenched his most secret desires out of his panting lips, dark poems of passion about what he wanted to do and what he wanted done to him. He confessed, among other things, of dreams of hot tight asses he would peel open and lick and suck and fuck. Well, he was welcome to do all of that to mine. Perhaps, tomorrow would be his lucky day.

I resisted the temptation to surrender to my growing hunger and finger myself to a cum. I hadn't forgotten the massage. I like my body to be in a state of mild arousal when I am worked on by a masseuse, to savor more fully the pleasurable languor when my muscles turn to viscous liquid under the pressure of knowing fingers. I glanced at the small time piece on the counter. 7.30. Half an hour to my appointment. I reluctantly climbed out of the soapy water, emptied the tub and showered quickly. I had pulled on my silk robe and was drying my hair when I heard the knock on the door.

He must have sensed my surprise and confusion when I saw him standing in the patio.

"I believe you have an appointment for a massage, ma'am," he offered.

I quickly regained my composure. I had been expecting a woman, but this young man would do nicely, I decided. He was tall, the top of my head barely reaching his chin. He had the smoothly tanned body of a confirmed sun worshipper, his olive skin the color of rich milk chocolate. The lines of his face were clean and sharp, his hair and eyes dark as night. He had a warm smile, the kind that set people instantly at ease. My unruly mind, always alert to possibility, was already working overtime.

I stepped aside to let him in. He strode into the room confidently and headed straight for the large king size bed. He placed his bag on the bedside table, unzipped it and began to extract the tools of his trade. He pulled out two large fluffy white towels and spread them on the bed sheet. He placed a bottle of what I assumed to be massage oil next to the towels within easy reach. I stood watching him idly, my arms crossed in front of my body. When he was done, he turned to me and smiled.

"Why don't you get comfortable?"

I liked his delicacy. He must have been used to clients who are at pains to pretend that there is nothing even faintly erotic or sexual about a full body massage, who shuffle out of their clothes with their backs to him and scramble into bed hurriedly as though their nakedness gave them a new turn of speed. I didn't shuffle or scramble or turn my back to him. I looked him in the eye as I undid the belt of my silk robe and let it slide from my shoulders. I was naked underneath.

He didn't betray the slightest hint of unease. He ran his eyes slowly and deliberately over the length of my body, lingering at my breasts and my soft, hairless pussy, already wet and puffy. I was incredibly aroused by my own vulnerability, by the act of displaying my nakedness to a man who was still fully clothed. I was also intrigued by his calm self-assurance, by the confidence with which he had coolly appraised my body. I found myself hoping that he didn't find me wanting. To my surprise, I realized that I was more nervous than I had been in a long time.

I knew that I couldn't proposition him. Doing so would have demeaned both of us, as though I presumed to solicit a sexual favor because I hired him as a masseur. What I felt for him wasn't shabby. It was honest. I wanted him, but only if he wanted me. If during the next hour, he wanted to more than rub me down, I was his to claim.

I lay down on my back on the towels, my arms by my sides, my legs slightly apart. Just lying there like that, open and helpless, made me want to moan. I watched, transfixed, as he poured a long ribbon of oil into his right palm and then rubbed his hands together to spread the oil evenly. I wondered where he would touch me first. My nipples were already hard and puckered and not from the air conditioning. They were aching to be caressed by his fingers, now slippery with oil.

He knelt by my side on the bed, lifted my right hand and placed it on his left shoulder. He covered my hand gently with his left palm while his right hand began to massage my arm with long, even strokes. I sighed softly as my muscles melted beneath his deft fingers. When he was done, he placed my arm gently by my side before switching to my right. By the time he was finished with my arms, my body was already loose and languid, my limbs heavy as though molten lead were flowing through my veins.

He half circled my body to kneel at my feet. He lifted my left leg, cradling my ankle, and placed my foot flat against his chest. I felt or perhaps imagined the soft throb of his heartbeat through his skin and the fabric of his thin cotton shirt. That gentle vibration in the sole of my foot seemed to me such an achingly intimate connection between our bodies – even more intimate than fucking.

As he began to massage my calf, I caught his eye and he smiled.

"Your feet are beautiful," he said.

Then he did something indescribably erotic. He lifted my foot upwards and planted a soft kiss on my big toe. When I showed no sign of protest, he slid my pink toe between his lips and sucked it wetly. I almost came. It was as though my toe was connected directly to my clit, now throbbing impetuously. My cunt was leaking and I felt a trail of pussy juice seep into the crack of my ass. He smiled as I moaned softly and resumed working on my leg. I shuddered, the glistening arrow of my sex exposed to his gaze, the room filling with the scent of my arousal.

The game was on. He was testing my limits gently, trying to guess what I wanted, seeing what he could get away with. I knew I couldn't mouth the words yet, but my mind was already screaming, "Oh, God, please ... fuck me. JUST FUCK ME." I focused on being as receptive as possible to his overtures, on giving him no reason to back off. I was beginning to wonder whether I would be able to bear the exquisite torture of his gentle hands roaming over my body as he slowly gathered the confidence to take me, to fuck me, to finish me.

Both my legs were slick and glistening with oil. They felt like jelly and I caught myself doubting whether they would ever again hold the weight of my body. He rolled me over onto my stomach. I lay still, my face resting on my forearms, waiting for his magical hands to resume their slow exploration of my body.

He began to work methodically on my neck, shoulders and back, drifting lower and lower to finally brush the cheeks of my ass. He nudged my legs open and knelt between them before he cupped my cheeks and rolled them apart. I trembled at the thought of the sight that I must offer him, my most intimate geography laid bare before his eyes – the valley between my cheeks and my soft pink anus, already wet and glistening with the juices that had trickled into my crack. He slid a large fluffy pillow under my hips, opening me up completely.

He poured a thin stream of oil at the top of my crease and let it flow down the slope towards my swollen pussy. He interrupted its downward journey with a forefinger and began to slowly work the oil into the skin of my crease, ignoring my hot puckered hole except for an occasional feather light touch. Each fleeting contact was like a tiny electric shock which made my body jerk in unwitting arousal. After what seemed like an eternity, his forefinger finally settled on my yearning hole. As his finger began to trace tiny circles, rubbing the oil into my puckered flesh, I could no longer contain myself. A long lingering moan tore from my throat as my fingers clutched the soft towel into desperate clumps.

He leaned forward and whispered, "You like?" as his finger continued to circle relentlessly.

"Oh, God ... Yes."

"And this?" he breathed, as his finger pierced the ring of my anus with a smooth even thrust.

"My God..." I groaned, my body relaxing, surrendering to him completely.