Group Connections Ch. 03

“C’mon, I’ll make up the bed in the loft.” We ramble up the spiral staircase and I’m once again admiring her body as her ass, now inches from my face, wobbles in all it’s splendor up to the sleeping loft. Even without the energy for sexual arousal, the temptation to bury my face there is almost irresistible.

As we wind around to the landing, the incredible sense of style and grace about this woman is once again showcased in her room. A simple bed is draped with scarves of satins and silks at the head, giving a crowning effect around the two window panes that serve as a headboard. She steps over behind a paper and mahogany dressing screen to what I imagine to be her closet and linen area, since she emerges with a short red satin robe in one hand and clean bed linens in the other. There is a simple mahogany vanity oiled to a rich shine that showcases a neat contrast of colors to the messy art loft…hand blown glass containers of fragrant natural oils and lotions along with a simple antique silver hand mirror, matching brush with horse hair bristles, and an amazing ivory carved comb. She directs me to the matching stool as she fusses with the bed.

Overtaken by the shiny objects and my slightly drunken state, I play with the bottles and comb, watching the colors and sparkle shift with the low light. I hear her distantly in the background explaining something about her great grandmother’s silver set. When I pull my eyes away I get the full impact of the room and its view of the city, along with the newly made bed and amazing display of what must be at least 30 handmade candles lit around the room. She motions me over to her, and once again letting go of my dictatorial stance, I obey.

Standing behind me, I feel her begin to pull at the waistline of my skirt, inching it down over my full hips. I wiggle a little to assist her and I am rewarded with her lips at the base of my neck and her fingertips inside the edge of my thong as my skirt falls to the floor. Everywhere she touches me my skin tingles…tiny sparks of energy flow from her to me with each subtle movement.

Keeping her fingers inside my thong, she slides them back to the base of the corset. I flash on a moment of dread as I imagine my well placed flesh flopping out before her but I’m too exhausted to care anymore. Her breath is heavy on my shoulder blades as she tugs the laces loose. My body rejoices at being released and I’m renewed by the blood flow and breathing room that’s being resorted. Still too tired to react, at least now I can enjoy the sensation of her tongue sliding down my now exposed spine.

I allow her to move me, standing limply still like a doll, to finis removing my corset from behind. Her hands slide up my tender stomach, and I wince and flinch at every bruise and tender spot along the deep dents the corset has left in me. She rests her hands under my breasts and my newly freed nipples perk to their full, large potential. I lean back into her, allowing myself the comfort and sensation the support of her body gives me.

Of course, no matter how tender, she is still the cat and I her mouse. She steps back from me suddenly. So suddenly I’m almost on the floor…now dizzy and disoriented again. She returns quickly, slipping me into the satin robe which I now realize was meant to be a waist length frock…Because of my height, it comes down on me just enough to cover my behind, leaving little slivers of moon below exposed to the cold air. I move to tie it shut, and she gently restrains my wrists at my sides. Though I can’t see her, I can feel her mischievous smile.

Her hands slide to my hips, and urge me out of the thong. Unwillingly I oblige, and before she can get a hold of me I’m in the bed and under the sheets. I pull the covers to my chin and grin at her like some silly child who thinks she’s gotten away with something.

“I bet you think you’re so cute, don’t you” she chides me. I can’t help but laugh at her…at the foot of the bed with her hands on her hips, all the while soaking a visibly wet spot on the light grey shorts. She does look slightly irritated, and I sense this game still puts the odds heavily in her favor.

She straddles my feet with her knees and crawls up over me on the bed, ripping the covers from my hands and exposes my bare front, now surrounded in neat folds of red satin, to the air and her eyes. She has the same hungry look to her that she’s had all night, only now intensified by the chase. It burns into me and even in the chill of the room my body is on fire with her hot gaze. Clamoring over me, she straddles my hips and drops heavily onto me. I buck up and moan as the thick sticky cotton of her shorts grates against my swollen clit. She slurps and swallows my left breast, biting at the flesh and tearing at the nipple with her tongue. I feel helpless, I feel consumed. I’m a meal to her, simple prey. I’m not a mouse to her cat; I’m a gazelle to her hungry lioness.

Pulling herself off of my chest, she continues to pound her hips into me mercilessly, racking my body with spikes of second long orgasmic energy with each stab. She tugs her shirt off and I enjoy for a moment the glow of her pale flesh in the candlelight, flushed pink and warm with excitement. Her hair flows over her shoulders and bounces in time with her breasts as she rides me. My view doesn’t last long. She descends upon me and plants her nipple in my mouth. It’s rock hard and pulsing hot even in between my warm lips. I suckle her, savoring the flavor of her sweet flesh and enjoying the gasps of pleasure she awards my efforts. I squeeze and massage her other breast with my hand, taking time to tweak her nipple roughly and listen to her scream with delight.

I’ve never fucked a woman before this. I’ve made love, I’ve had sex, but the pounding animal energy of fucking has never taken over me before this moment.

I push my free hand between us and save my clit from a premature orgasm by lifting my fingers and massaging her. Even the cotton is dripping wet from her slick wetness and mine. I probe and push hard against her folds, then dig into her slit. My finger moves back and forth along her quickly, and I flick her clit quickly matching the pace of my tongue on her nipple. Deep growls of pleasure echo above me. I want to make her climax. I want this beautiful animal to come for me, cry for me in the exquisite agony of orgasm. I move my hand up to her stomach and let it slide into her shorts, down over the soft fuzz of a thin strip of soggy pubic hair and into her smooth warm slit.

Pushing my first two fingers up inside her, I thrust my hips against my hand, forcing them deep inside of her. Simultaneously, I bite down on her nipple and she screams “Samantha yes!” If nothing of this night has renewed my energy, hearing her wild cry does. I hook my fingers and rub the inner wall of what would be her clitoris while nipping and biting onto her nipple with more and more force. She rips her breast from my mouth and kisses me deeply, pounding her hips against my hand. She’s fucking my fingers with incredible force and I feel her muscles begin to contract with the first small twinges of orgasm. Her tongue explores my mouth as harshly as my fingers explore her pussy. I raise my hips again, grinding my palm into her clit and twitching my fingertips along her ever tightening insides. I want her to come for me so badly…to spill her sticky sweet fluids all over my hand and mound.