The Florist Ch. 03: Laileet

Her first reaction was a shudder at the precipice of bliss, followed instantly be a glare and a wrinkled brow that begged for more.

"You see how your body betrays its need."

"Kelline, please!"

"Just a little longer, I promise. And if you find a worthy reward at the end of this, I'll be happy to begin your climb again, and will take you—"

"Oh, there!" She growled when I denied her, again. Another wanton thrust of her hips as she pawed at my hands between her trebling thighs.

"I promise you will feel more than you have ever felt during lovemaking."

When she found her hands could not make my hands do her bidding, she resumed her nipple play. "I had better—this is killing me!"

"Killing you?" I teased. My free thumb slithered deeper into the split of her fleshy backside. Her private opening proved to be so wet and relaxed that the tip of my finger slipped inside without resistance.

In that moment her entire body clenched. Her grip on the fingers in her steamy core, and the thumb in her behind, clutched so tightly that I became immobilized. She pinched her breasts hard enough that I felt concerned. But when her body quaked, her gorgeous blue eyes rolled back an instant before her shoulders arched into the cushions, and she covered my hands in a wave of boiling nectar, I felt certain that she had not injured herself. Or at least if she had, she may not notice until morning . . . .

Watching such an erotic display was truly a gift. Her legs remained taut, the gasps and moans went on and on as did the rise and fall of her spectacular breasts, and the entire expanse of her sex pulsed and poured rivulets of sexual energy. When her body began to settle it took the slightest intensification to launch her anew into another crest.

I slowed one more time before giving Laileet a final push over the bliss horizon's edge. She bent her head toward me, holding my face for a beat or two before her expression glazed. I could not be certain, but I would have been surprised if she could actually focus on anything visual. Her world had collapsed inward until all she knew was the glorious crush of her body's release.

Her hands reached for mine, uncertain and jerky in her aftermath. I stilled before letting my digits gently recede. With each small movement, even in retreat, Laileet shuddered like a leaf in a gale.

For quite a while the loudest sound was of a woman's slowing gasps. I leaned forward and placed the softest kiss on her hip. She giggled and her body shivered.

"My . . . dear . . . Kelline . . . . Oh . . . my . . ."

I kissed her hip again. "Yes, Laileet?" Then I kissed her again.

"Do you . . . really believe . . . you can make . . . that more, more . . .?"

A smile before my answer of, "Yes, if you wish it."

"Oooo, mmm." she giggled. It was a throaty, deeply resonant sound full of challenge, trepidation, longing and curiosity.

We rested and talked in soft tones. My fingers touched her, explored softly until she appeared to want more. We kissed and I followed the wakes of my fingertips with lips and tongue. Sometimes I would nip or nibble on interesting and sensitive spots and Laileet would shiver, or giggle, or wrap around me.

As timed passed I grew bolder. I knelt near her shoulder and offered myself to her. She smiled and took me between her lips. The caress of her tongue made me shiver this time and, once she wetted me, I withdrew to paint myself onto her nipple. She cupped a hand beneath the generous curve and pushed herself up into me.

The second time I offered, she took half my length before getting my skin even wetter than before. Then she rolled towards me so I could reach her other succulent breast. She seemed to enjoy the new game, and her nipple grew hard as it slithered along the sensitive underside of my erection.

The third time she stared into my eyes and pulled my hips to her. I felt her swallow more of me and my legs trembled. She moaned around my flesh and the shivers went straight to my core.

I lay beside her and lifted her left leg. Her cleft shone in the fading light and I plunged headlong into her. She bobbed herself back and forth, varying the suction and keeping me drenched. I licked and suckled her wet skin, soft folds and throbbing nib. She held my hips and I gripped her bottom.

We soon became engaged in a contest, each urging the other while simultaneously holding back our building peaks. I knew if I was to take Laileet higher than ever, I had to capitulate.

I slowed, focusing more and more on the pleasure she gave me. Soon my hips rolled back and forth as I became more active. Her hands urged me to continue, and she moaned, "Um hmm, um hmm, um hmm . . ."

The flare of my tip slipped past her tongue and into her throat. I groaned and held still, legs tight, and Laileet managed to take more of me. One of her hands stroked what little of me she could not devour.

"Oh!" I exclaimed into the heated flesh between her legs. My body fell into the deep rhythmic pulsations of climax. Her throat milked me as she repeatedly swallowed until I could not stand any more stimulation. I jerked from her with a soft, "pop" and lay back, panting. My face turned to her and she grinned back at me.

"I suppose," she told me, whipping her lip with a finger and sucking it, "Mmm, I suppose, I am not quite as good at the buildup-and-slow-down technique." Her blue irises glinted with teaming amusement, and we both laughed together.

"Laileet, Pillome is a very fortunate man!"

"Yes, yes, he is," she beamed. "And I am very fortunate woman. And now I have many ways to show him just how much he means to me."

"Well, my dear, would you like me to demonstrate how to keep you fortunate?"

"Oh, Kelline, that is so . . . awkward—and sweet—both at once."

"Forgive me. I seemed to have recovered only a small portion of my reason."

"Mmm, now that is much nicer to my ear."

"If I may illustrate . . ."

It took most of two bells to tease Laileet up the many tiers of plateau after plateau. When her time finally came it took nothing more than a soft puff of air across her womanhood to set the events in motion. Her climax proved even more enveloping and crushing than the last. Her fists dug into the bedding so hard that her right hand ripped a seam. Her heavy breasts undulated with each spasm of her abdomen. Both nipples turned an angry red and felt hard as pebbles under my tongue.

In the midst of what I think was her second crest, I slid myself fully into her in one urgent thrust. She grasped my shoulders and stared at me with an impatient and haunted look. My hips moved with hers and her velvet walls constricted on my length. Her body raged through a series of orgasms that seemed to blend together into endless bliss.

I could tell her body was growing exhausted, even as her eyes pleaded for more. I held myself above her on trembling arms, elbows locked, and thrust into her with increasing vigor. Her head thrashed from side to side as Laileet remained locked in her continuous, powerful climax.

My own rhythm slowed as my flesh swelled ever harder, and I knew I was practically spent. I willed myself to last a little longer, to wait for her, but she looked like such a sexual goddess, she felt so slick and hot, that I lost the struggle . . .

Or so I thought. When I buried myself as deeply as I could reach, when my body took over and my mind fogged, when I felt my essence jetting from my tip, Laileet stared one last time into my face. Her mouth formed a silent, "Oh!" Her brow wrinkled in concentration. Her body quivered beneath mine. Her nails bit into my shoulders. Her legs hooked behind my thighs. Her hips bucked up to meet my hips. I leaned down to kiss her hard on the mouth. We shared a

At last she seemed to begin her descent. She finally settled, abruptly, in what appeared to be unconsciousness. I withdrew, slowly, as some delightful aftershocks rippled through me. If the pebbleskin on her chest, nipples and arms was any indication, I think Laileet enjoyed a few aftershocks as well, conscious or not.

I cradled her and stroked her temples until her eyelids fluttered and she could focus on my face. She offered a weak smile, a beautiful, heart-wrenching smile. I whispered, "Close your eyes," and caressed her eyelids until her breathing deepened. Then I kissed her cheek before falling into a contented sleep alongside her.

* * * * *

I returned to Gatekey and my glassine works. My interlude with Laileet refreshed me . . . while it happened. But now, after just a short time, I experienced a shapeless yearning, something that defied definition, something that I could not quite put into words. My latest work helped distract me, even though it did not receive my full attention. But molten glassine tends to demand respect, even from the distracted.

"Now that's a promising piece," boomed a voice behind me. While a person has to speak up to be heard over the rumbling hiss of the kilns, I jumped nonetheless.

"Apologies, Dalian," Dactyon bowed. "But that work, it's inspired. Oh, don't let it sag. That's it. Yes, truly remarkable. I cannot wait to hold the finished work."

"Thank you," I mumbled. As I sought to focus on the piece once more it struck me. I looked at the glassine, glowing, cooling, shaping as I guided it, and saw . . . Weinotia! The curved surface mirrored the girl's curves. The color recalled the tone of her smooth skin. The texture on one side evoked the ripples of her tresses. I guffawed.

"I cannot wait, either," I exclaimed, unable to control my laughter at the private joke.

Dactyon watched me for a beat or two, shook his head and began to walk away. Over his shoulder he shouted, "Do not burn yourself, you maniacal imp!"

When my laughter increased Dactyon shook his head again but kept on walking.

That night, well after the birds dreamed and the bats fed, I wondered after Weinotia. I wondered who was holding her, whether she had a betrothed, if she was working, if she was eating, if she had found a home. And I wondered if she thought of me.

Sleep, when it came at last, was fitful and unsettled.