Xylona's Afternoon Nap

Xylona murmured as Thiago slipped from underneath her arm. He considered relieving his arousal in bed rude. Xylona's face registered a serene contentment and satisfaction in the bathroom's light. Her body rustled against linen, mumbling something in Greek. He peeled and discarded the condom, squeezed a large glop of lubricant into his hand. His sex stirred tumescent. The air in the room was comfortably warm, still scented with their carnal essences.

The squelch of lubricant sliding against his baton interrupted the quiet of the hotel room. The muffled buzzing of his phone in a jacket pocket, Xylona garbled something in an exhalation, shifting about on the bed, her lips remained drawn gently in a sated smile. He turned off the light, increased the frequency and intensity of his strokes. He wasn't the sort to leave without spending some time or saying goodbye to a client.

Xylona was visibly angry when he arrived at the Viridian Monarch in Chelsea earlier and didn't want to talk about it. Sitting up in bed against the headboard with a glass of wine and her blouse undone, watching a movie on television, Xylona tried to be as cordial as possible, as he tried to engage in conversation. She indicated the envelope on the night table discreetly waving her glass.

Thiado smiled warmly at her before closing the sheers over the window's view of the city, moving with sensual intuition. He stopped at the wardrobe to remove his clothes with an enticing deliberateness as she sipped, pouring another glass when he was fully nude.

Even though he was smartly dressed, his clothes didn't indicate the pleasurable arrangement of lines and angles his body contained. The surprise delighted her, dissipating Xylona's anger while appraising how all the lines of his body converged at his member as it slowly lunged from his lean, virile frame, washed in shades of sienna, copper and bronze.

Thiado had the defined musculature of someone who remained active, a patient, understanding expression about him, a friendly glint in his dark brown eyes, ringed with fringe-cut lashes over sharp cheekbones, secure in his person. Xylona alternated from self-consciously sipping her wine to brazenly ogling Thiado's impressive organ, the sort she'd only seen in porno films.

Quaffing the last of wine and placing the glass on the end table, Xylona gestured for him to come closer, turning to sit on the edge, trace the contours of his body with her hands, standing to continue her survey, releasing with a request to close the drapes and an apology for her behavior.

Thiado returned to Xylona standing in her gray satin chemise and black lace stockings, intentionally foiling his playful efforts to remove it, taking his hands in hers, examining them. They were the slender fingered sort she associated with artists and intellectuals, yet were calloused on certain pads. Thiado's touch was deft and strong, she moaned when he squeezed her ample breasts as she examined the shapes of his arms and shoulders.

A gradually dimming column of light emerged from where Thiado left the drapes parted.

Xylona's last canvass ended with a seizure and firm tug on his rigidity, Thiado eased her back onto the bed, gingerly easing her chemise up her thighs, over her hips to place his mouth on her glistening clitoris. Xylona squealed, her mind swimming in drunk realization Thiado wasn't bringing her the almost perfunctory satisfaction she associated with escorts, but a thorough one.

His tongue lashed her kernel erect before exploring the distended petals of her flower and intimate partition thoroughly. He returned to her nubbin with such suction, she climaxed immediately, grabbing the back of his head, reveling in his soft curly hair, thrusting her hips into his face, demanding his cock between exclamations of, "Och! Och!"

Thiago sheathed his burnished shaft and teased her lips further apart. Xylona took one last sight of her pale fingers against his skin, electricity coursed from her aperture closing them as he probed her in slow teasing increments.

There was nowhere his leftward curving, magnificent extension didn't reach. He balanced his weight deftly on her swollen button and ground his pelvis onto it. Xylona screamed, swore and spasmed under variations of Thiado's thrusting, each climax merging and mounting onto the next. She put her legs inside his and squeezed his sex with ruthless abandon.

Thiado withdrew and she squealed in protest, sitting up to pull him back onto her, he removed the chemise despite her protests. Xylona gasped when denuded, crossing her arms over her breasts, turning her torso away, her disheveled shoulder-length hair forming a chaotic jet-black mane.

"I'm 61," she protested. "You can't find any of this attractive."

"I'm 49," Thiado calmly countered. "I can find all of you very attractive."

"You lie!" Xylona snarled incredulously as Thiado curled around her, gently prying her arms away and turning her so he could appraise the changes in her otherwise neat hourglass shape, touching her insecurities delicately. She was broad-shouldered, with an expected bit of sag to her ample breasts, some thickening to her torso and her arms, a pronouncement to the rounding in her hips. Her hands brushed against his stiffness, feeling her juices there, she clutched it, confirming one truth.

"Liar." Xylona acquiesced, he kissed her neck, chest, breasts; fondling and sucking them, gently nibbling on her solid tan teats. A sphere swelled within her, gathering her anger, her carnal needs to a fixed point in her pelvis, making her limber to his touch. Thiado rotated her, feeling the nuances of her body, gently setting her on all fours, pushing her chest onto the mattress.

Xylona felt regal, whorish, wanting animal pleasures, making guttural exclamations as his lips found their mark again, the thrill of his grasp on her hips, the resonance of his grunts tingled, in her ears distracting her from air expulging noisily when Thiado re-introduced his sensual length with a firm, upward imposition.

Thiado caressed and grasped Xylona's bottom, spanking it on her request as he burrowed her deepest, intimate wants, cleaving her sensual fissure, lasciviousness flooded her being. The sphere grew, sapped her strength with every peak, leaving her gorged and weakened. Thiado grunted and his staff lunged further into her clenching maelstroms, series and sets of oscillations battering it relentlessly, yet it showed no signs of abatement. Xylona lapsed into delirium.

Xylona decoupled from him whimpering, to rotate on her side, drawing a leg toward her, exposing, prying herself open with a slatternly expression. Thiado straddled and penetrated, draping a calf over a shoulder. The sphere congested her being, fulfilling desires as it uncovered others, swelling as he plunged her depths. Thiado belabored her steadily, she wanted to see him in exquisite agony as a reprisal.

Xylona maneuvered him onto his back to straddle and mount him, groaning, she enveloped his unyielding totality, he sat up to kiss her neck, chest, breasts; fondling and sucking them, gently nibbling on her tan teats. The bubble grew larger. Xylona pushed him onto the bed, pinned him down impaling herself wantonly on his sex, coaxing him to climax.

Thiado grunted again, refusing her hips' lascivious assaults with upward plunges. Xylona tried to rid herself of the swelling sensation within her. She collapsed on top of him, gasping, sputtering, and swearing, another series of tremors radiated from deep within her, clenching and pulsating her body against him to no avail, the musk of her sex inflaming their surging bodies.

Xylona wanted to feel his surrender, to consume every centimeter of his sex, his denials drove her interior toward further ecstasy. The sphere grew invasive, fatiguing. Xylona resolved herself to vanquish them both, and rotated on her back, situating the crooks of her knees on his shoulders, insisting: as hard as he could, without stopping.

Thiado obliged Xylona when the sphere grew dense, then shattered within her, snapping her legs and arms in a secure clutch, her hands slapping grasps on his ass, fragments raced through her writhing and screaming in primal appeasement, arcing her body to gorge on his before she could tolerate no more.

Xylona's cove surged simultaneously, repelling his rod, striking her with stinging twinges, she pushed away at his waist, before planting her hands to deny further entry as she swelled shut, rhythmic tremors coursing her body.

"No. No more. My head is spinning, ringing in my ears. Feel my leg, it's shaking. Och! I'm ... Och! ... I'm still cumming! What did you do to me? Och! Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Ungh! "

Thiado held her as the quakes subsided, Xylona drifted from exhaustion into a nap, leaving currently allaying his erection with in the bathroom. He recalled the savage vigor of her hips, discordant cries, the roundness of her mouth and the indelicate sound that emanated from it when she said "Och!" Certain she was gratified, Thiado enabled the growing turbulence in his loins.

Xylona moaned in her sleep suddenly, a long sensual wail, "to mouní mou, aisthánetai kalá!" Thiado's peak gushed from his practiced restraint urged by her lurid tones, splashing warm over his knuckles, onto the floor when he turned on the light and closed the bathroom door.

Thiado detected Xylona's scent clinging to his body as he washed his hands and cleaned off his emissions. He opened the door long enough to discern how Xylona was arranged on the bed, and turned off the light . A new message from Magdalina awaited on his phone, wanting him to stop by the cafe later, he used the light from the phone's screen to scrawl what he heard phonetically.

Thiado eased under Xylona's arm, pulling the sheet up before she spooned him, murmuring. He filled the time speculating about her life, who or what angered her, when her hands slowly bestirred on his chest and a kiss was planted on the nape of his neck.

"So nice, you're still here. We were fucking in my dream."

"I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye."

"You are very kind, Thiado. Can you stay longer with me? Have dinner?" Xylona's hands traversed his body again, one examined his flaccid, unresponsive cock, grasping gently.

"Yes, I'll text Magdalina. What does 'too moo-knee-moo ah-stah-neh-te ka-la?' mean?"

"It means I talk in my sleep. You are a good listener," she giggled, nuzzling his ear with the tip of her nose purring, "My pussy feels good. Polý kalá, very good." Xylona enjoyed the swell of her breasts pressing them into his back while securing him in her arms, and drifted back to sleep.