Pacific Wind

Their first meeting was more that they could have bargained for. She had exceeded his most untamed expectations. The woman was a lady in every sense of the word ... until that evening when they found themselves alone in the small cottage by the sea. Their expressiveness was agrarian in nature to say the very least. Now here they were, walking hand in hand back to the cottage. The cold wind coming from the Pacific was chilling and they laughed as they picked up the pace to reach their destination. The warmth of the cottage would be welcomed for sure.

The conversation was comprised of an aggregate of subjects. Children, marriages, and work, just to name a few. At last they stepped into the warmth of the small three-room cottage shutting the sound of the waves and the wind behind them with the closing of the thick wooden Dutch door. Without taking his jacket off, he walked to the stone fireplace and threw some fresh logs on the smoldering embers from the night before. In due time the crackling sounds of a roaring fire filled the room, and with it, the pungent smell of burning wood. He out of the blue realized that he was alone in the room, and as he begun to call out her name, he stopped. She had suddenly reappeared with two steamy cups of coffee from the cottage kitchen.

With her charming smile, she handed him a large cup, then sat down in front of the fireplace. Her large twinkling green eyes beckoning him, and he set the cup down on the wooden coffee table before removing his open coat ... hanging it on the hook behind the door. Then it seemed almost with a sense of urgency that he hurried to her side and joined her on the floor in front of the large hearth. The warmth of the fireplace was as welcome as was her smile.

They started to pick up their conversation where they had left off when suddenly they both stopped talking. A strange smile appeared on their faces as they drew closer together. Once again in each other's arms they began to explore.

Hands became as busy as the jumping flames in the stone fire bin. Then with out a word, she slowly stood and looked down at him. His eyes were glued to her form as she unhurriedly unbuttoned her slacks. The sweater quickly disappeared and there she stood. Clad in nothing but a lace thong and a matching bra. Her skin seemed to glow in the wintry light that crept through the dingy windows, accented by the warm glow of the fire. Her mouth moved slowly as she spoke.

"I think I'm a tad bit ahead of you in the clothing removal sequence darling." She looked at him in such a way that he couldn't reply, but he did stand and hastily remove his sweater and jeans. She could easily see his state of arousal. And it was with little hesitation that she quickly removed the folded blanket from the low chest sitting next to the couch. In an instant it was laid out in front of the floor almost as if choreographed at some strange time and place.

"Why don't you lay down Darling? Get comfortable." She said in her Southern tone.

Without objection he lay on the floor and watches her as she moved closer to him. Standing at his side, she began to sway, almost as if in a dance. Dancing to the music in their hearts. He watched as she undid the front snap of her bra, holding her breast as she swayed to and fro. "Oh my Dear," she said in a hushed tone. "I'm getting drenched. You have a very wonderful effect on me Love."

He looked up ... licking his dry lips, trying to speak clearly. "As do you on me Baby Girl. So much so, that I still feel weak kneed."

She raised her eyebrow at his response, and then let the bra fall freely to the floor. Without hesitation, she pulled at her lacy thong and added it to the inventory of clothing piled on the floor.

He remembered the softness of her body from the evening before and looked at her admiringly as she moved to his side. Standing above him, she placed a foot on each side of his head and smiled at him. It was her smile. That cock of her head, that expression in her eye that aroused him so. She continued to move as if in a dance with a ghost. Then to his pleasure, she began to lower herself. Bit by bit, she descended until she was on her knees, her fingers now playing in his thick hair. Her eyelids slowly closed with anticipation as she lowered herself to his parched lips.

Immediately he felt her moisture coat his lips, and then he tasted her as her excitement seeped between them. That silky taste and texture that he had longed for was once again on his pallet. The sound that came from her lips was muted, but still audible. It was a mixture of moaning and sighing as his tongue slowly moved about the surface of the silky flesh at his lips and tongue. With increasing intensity his tongue found its way to the Netherlands of her core. The smooth folds of tender swollen flesh enveloped his tongue as it explored deeper and deeper.

His face became sodden with her excitement as she arched her back with strength and suddenness. Then her moan grew in intensity until his ears were almost filled with alarm at her open excitement, expression, and completeness. She lowered herself purposely and became heated as she shook from the experience.

He slid from under her and positioned himself at her back, rubbing her soft shoulders with his strong hands, calming her somewhat. Massaging her buttocks and lower back, as he spoke softly to her in his deep voice. Little things like promises, and complements. Then with the same calm, he gently pushed her shoulders to the floor. Her head was rested in the soft pile of clothing. Clothing that bore his scent. He admired her raised buttocks and soothed them with his open palm. His hands moved more rapidly until she felt the friction build heat on her. Secretly she almost wanted him to spank her as she had joked about so many times before. He bent down and softly traced his tongue along each unruffled cheek. Then he traced a damp trail down the crease, causing her to shudder a bit.

How easy it was to enjoy this lover, to savor her being. Out of devilishness or lust - he knew not what - his tongue violated her privacy and she moved back involuntarily. Her action bespoke that of a sated desire as she moaned once again. But he was too aroused to hesitate in claiming his satisfaction. Holding her posterior still with one hand, her took himself with the other and began to rub the bulbous tip of his desire against her pouty wetness. Her moans grew in intensity as he continued to rub the entire surface of her flower bud with increased pressure and tempo. The electrical current that coursed through her body each time he rubbed her special projection soon had her at a state of uncontrolled arousal. He then positioned the thickness at her engorged labia, slippery with her excitement, then slowly begun to push. The suddenness of entry caused them both to gasp. The enclosure of her folds around the abundant ridge of his manhood seemed divine. She too could appreciate the feeling.

He waited for her to let go a bit before starting his journey into her taut depths. The thickness of his member was so gratifying for the both of them, and the tightness that resulted was unbelievable. Her elevated buttocks were so well positioned for deep penetration and soon he felt her end. The pressure against him was evident, and such a temptation it was ... One that he would eventually succumb to. His thrusts were at first slow and with slow deliberateness. Eventually they would be replaced with the slow pounding piston like motion that comes with impending climax.

Faster and faster he moved, and to her equal movement of response. The sound of her free flowing wetness could now be heard as he dove deeper and deeper into her, almost lifting her as he pushed in. He felt his time grow close and he slowed his movements. She was quaking with orgasm as he did so and she cried out in protest as he withdrew. Turning her over and laying her on her back, he entered her once again as her legs clasped around his waist. Still in the throws of orgasm, she accepted him eagerly. Lips meeting, tongues entangled, and breathing so loud and raspy. Then he felt it happen. It was the swelling of his passion almost painful as he reached his zenith. The surge of heat that coursed through him entered her like bolts of lightning. She opened her eyes for a moment as she realized her station. Stream after stream of his heat shot forth, covering her smooth insides. The loud groan that came from his lips was heard outside the cabin, as were her screams of delight as they gave in to their lust.

They kissed softly as they lay there in each others arms. His member now softer, yet still thick and present, slowly kept its slow rhythm as they kissed. The tickling sensation of their fluids trickling slowly added to the cloud they were floating on at that moment. They lay there in each other's arms, wet in their aqueous calenture. Soft kisses were plenty as he slipped from her, allowing the blanket to absorb the remaining results of their passion. The day was young and so were their hearts and desires.