Flight 606 …Part10

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Have you ever seen time drag? Like the time between that vase is on the table and then in the air, and then just before it crashes to the ground time just slows down. It doesn’t still, just slows down, till the first fragment splinters away from the vase.

“Oyin… Wait…”

She stops and looks at my hand on her arm.

“See…” I start to say something. It’s something really important that is supposed to salvage this situation somewhat. But I can’t seem to remember. It’s that look in her eyes. It’s the heat on her lips that are glowing red, the though of how they match the red of her bra. It’s the wonder as to whether they would match her panties as well. One second, I am desperately trying to from the words and connections in my brain but it seems the blood supply is rushing somewhere else.

“Stay” I say, knowing I sound very lame. But I’m looking into her eyes, deep. There is no where else to look and it seems my arousal is mirrored in them. There’s no space between us now. It quickly hits me that we’re still out in the corridor. Anyone could be passing. Not breaking the gaze and the small distance between us, I pull her with me into the suite. Her breath comes in short gasps. As she asks, “What do you  want with me?” her voice sounds like she’s in pain and her face mirrors this as well. I pull her even closer.

She groans from deep in her throat as she feels my arousal. She looks away, and I can’t bear that break in contact, so I lift her chin and claim her lips with mine.  It’s the last drop of water that breaks the dam because her arms soon fly around my neck and our kiss is a bedouin’s respite. With her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist, we beeline for the bedroom. I’ll never know how we didn’t bump into something on the way.

Her clothes come flying off through shared effort. I had to let her down when we got to the bed. I stand and count the seconds as it takes forever to let her zip down and then slide the skirt of her bum.

Yes, the bra matches her panties.  

The urgency between us is too much for me to savor the curves on her, or how she had my favorite in lingerie – lace. It’s like every second we aren’t kissing, or kneading each other is a moment too long.

Laying her gently down, seems to be the only moment of tenderness. Usually, I’d favor more foreplay, but I wasn’t trying to combust spontaneously or get myself killed either. Every kiss, every little circle drawn by our fingertips, every nipple pinch is natural.

I pause as I am about to enter. To savor it maybe, or maybe I felt like I was going to literally explode into a million particles of pure pleasure. But I paused, her wetness urging me in. She groaned and opened her eyes about to ask what was holding me back, then I slid in. No, it wasn’t a slide, it was a triumphal entry. Head to hilt in one stroke. Her nails dug into my back. I stayed still as she thrashed and shuddered, her muscles squeezing every inch of me that she had and asking for more. I tethered on the edge of control. My implosion ending. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, like a sun about to go Supernova.

Her clenching was like a warm velvet glove around me, coaxing and caressing the pleasure out. She drawn blood with her nails. I could feel it, but it seemed to add to the heady ambrosia that her body gave me. Her legs around my butt urged me further in so I began to slowly pull out ready for the steady strokes.

F*#k me, she groaned in my ear.

It was the last key that broke away the cave man in me. In that moment, the night only just begun, and it would never end



Happy child, Sexy nerd, budgetista, intense narccisist, slightly histrionic, Self acclaimed minister for YOLO affairs, ...I deal in words.


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