Fever of Desire

Sumptuous curves under gossamer cotton. A breeze fighting oppressive Carolina heat. A fever of desire. Standing at the foot of your bed, I tremble with anticipation.

The flight from Boston was a study in self-control. Waiting to see you. The ride from the airport was agonizing. Wanting to touch you. Silently opening the door and climbing the stairs to your room. Fighting to breathe, adrenaline pumping.

Finally, there you are. I watch you sleep. Observe the gentle rise and fall of your breasts as you breathe. Your eyes closed peacefully as my desire for you rages like an inferno. Sweat soaks my french-cuffed shirt under an ill-advised wool suit jacket.

When you turn over on your side, I see my chance.

Silently walking to your bed, I kneel beside you. Slowly, I reach out with my right hand and cover your mouth. Drawing close to your right ear, I whisper hoarsely, "Sweet girl, it's Daddy." Your eyes spring open, clouded with sleep.

Your body tenses and you reflexively hyperventilate. "Shhhhhh... quiet, baby. No noise." Looking into my eyes, you nod with recognition and I feel your muscles relax. Just a bit, and just enough. I slide my hand to the back of your head and press my lips to yours. With a moment's hesitation, you yield to me and slide your tongue into my mouth. I suck your moans into my lungs like oxygen feeding my burning desire to touch you.

Without disturbing the sheet covering your body, I slide my hand down your warm form. Your curves intoxicate me. The scent of your sweat fills up my senses: sweet with a subtle undertone. Animal desire. And before my fingers pass your hips, I smell your sex. Clean, salty, and drug-like in its effect. Blood drains from my brain and floods my cock. Unconscious want clouds my senses, and I pull the sheet back revealing your masterpiece of a body glowing alabaster in the moonlight.

But you are not stone; you are also flesh and blood and desire and need. My need is to drink your cum. To bathe my face and beard in the sweet liquor your desire distills. To hear that crescendo of voice and cry and moan and scream mixed into a harmonious, raucous symphony of release and renewed want. The music continues until we both say it stops.

Your legs are closed tightly; such a shy, good girl. And with some effort, I open your thighs to reveal the object of my hunger. You are engorged and red with the blood that has likewise departed your brain. A hint of creamy fluid drips from the bottom of your pussy down your perineum to your other secret place. And I tilt my head to kiss your kitty deeply. Like I kissed your mouth, but with more gentle pressure at your entrance. Opening you with my lips. Tasting you with my tongue.

Fucking you with my tongue.

Your hands grab my head and pull me into you. Your hips undulate to force my cock-like tongue deeper and deeper. Your climax flows like the rushing rapids of a mountain river, and I lap your cream with a powerful thirst. The skin of your lips is irritated by my scratchy beard. You feel the prickly burn as I clean more and more girlcum off your thighs.

"Fuck me, Daddy," you say breathlessly. The bed is now sodden with sweat and desire. "Watch me, sweet girl," I say quietly. Slowly I stand before you, my clothes soaked with perspiration, your wetness, and my own excitement. First comes the suit jacket. Then, after lowering my suspenders, the French cuff shirt. I hold out my hand for you to undo the cufflinks. "Slower, baby," I purr. You smile, and your graceful fingers carefully unfasten the little figures from my cuffs-the devil on my left hand, an angel on my right-and place them on the bedside table. You kneel on the bed to unbutton my shirt and as you straighten your back, I lift your sodden nightshirt revealing your irresistible body. Skin soft, breasts with large puckered nipples perfectly luminous in the light, curves wrapping your hips and exquisite bottom, hiding your most secret place.

You unfasten my pants, which drop to a puddle on the floor, and you cup the outside of my tight boxers to feel the agonizing state of my cock. Your touch burns and soothes, enrages and calms. We are finally here together, and yet we have lost ourselves to desire. Your hands trace the muscles of my legs to ease the socks from my calves. You inhale quickly as you feel my calves flex and tighten, and you lean forward to place lips on the swelling between my thighs.

"Daddy, please," you coo, and I cannot resist your gaze up at me. "Yes, sweet girl. Please suck me." And with long, graceful fingers you free my cock from the saturated fabric-a mix of copious sweat and a river of precum-and slide it into your mouth. I swoon. Your mouth is heaven: sucking, licking, nursing with puckered lips to drain me of precum, salty and clean and slippery. Excess oozes from the corners of your mouth, adding a silvery glisten to the beads of sweat gathering on your face. Much more of this and I will flood your mouth with more than precum.

"Sweet girl, it's time," I say and lift your face gently by your chin to meet my eyes. "Oh Daddy, I want it, but I'm frightened," you plead, a slight wobble in your voice. "I will take care of you, sweet girl. Don't be afraid." And you smile and nod for me, truly the best, sweetest mountain-born girl this city-bred daddy could wish for.

In the moonlight, you turn your body slowly and present me with the gorgeous globes of your ass. I am speechless on sight of the perfect curves and sensual cleft that gently blends downward to meet the creamy entrance to your kitty. I have dreamed of this moment. I have fantasized about this moment. I have tried to prepare myself for this moment, but I am still overwhelmed by desire and appreciation. Finally, we are here. And finally, I get to help you feel what you have desired for so long but have confided to only me.

"Spread your bottom, baby," I say. And with those lithe fingers, you gently pull your bottom apart to reveal a tiny pucker. I see the streams of girlcum on your legs much like the stream of precum dripping from my cock. And your bottom hole is covered with a thick glaze of girlcum waiting to be tasted.

Hungrily I press my face between your cheeks and lap at the tiny knot. You groan. As I get bolder, I press the tip of my tongue into your pulsating tightness until I feel the muscles part. I am inside your bottom ever so slightly. Your voice pitches higher and a strangled cry of pleasure escapes your throat. Without removing my tongue, I slide two fingers into your tight pussy and massage the soft tissue just inside. My tongue senses the massive orgasm gathering deep in you: your brain, nerves, flesh, heart, blood signal climax, setting the tiny ring of muscle fluttering and pulsating around my tongue.

"Oh fuck, Daddy, I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"

This is the moment. In an instant, I stand and position the head of my precum drenched cock at the entrance to your bottom. Another wave of climax drives your face into the bed, opening your bottom just a little more. You are ready. And with gentle pressure, I push inside you.

The velvet smoothness of your ass is bliss. All of the moments that led to this one replay inside my closed eyelids. Eyelids closed because sight would diminish the feeling. And nothing has a right to feel this good. Nothing has ever felt this good. Your rippling wave of climax after climax has never sounded this good.

Your ass is milking the cum out of my cock. And I cannot stop myself.

You feel the bloom of warmth inside you before I can catch my breath to make a sound. Then I suck in oxygen and expel a roar, "Oh fuck, baby! Oh fuck, OH FUCK!" I scream. The windows are open and no doubt the whole neighborhood can hear us. "FUCK, BABY, FUCK, I CAN"T STOP!" And you crest a final wave of climax that pulsates the last drops of cum from me.

We are both drenched with sweat and reek of sex. The scent hangs like magnolia blossoming in humid Carolina summer air. I am wobbly on my feet as the endorphins crest and fade. My brain collapses a split second before my body does behind yours, my cock tucked into the cleft of your soaked and slippery bottom. We have finally marked each other.

In the still air and moonlight we lay panting and slippery. Tangled in gossamer cotton. I'm stroking your sumptuous curves with my back to the door and your head resting on my right arm. The fever of desire broken.

For now.