“Shut up…we’re by no means setting a precedent.” He was quiet…and not merely because he was used to obeying that voice implicitly. He was being peeled, slowly, like a delicate fruit, in time to some far off pagan rhythm and he found his logical mind was swathed in a white mist of sensual well-being. Gentle hands spread warm oil slowly, in ever-widening circles over his chest. Tantalizingly, teasing fingers ran over each nipple, flicking the tip lightly. A slow, deliberate tongue reached out to each erect button. He shivered, then squirmed; surprising himself. A sleek, well-oiled torso slid over his chest down to his navel. Tiny shivers accompanied the soft nips at his abdomen. Warm oil was dribbled over lower areas; then a ravaging (?) finger made him glisten. Even his thighs were being massaged…the pressure was…delicious. Well-skilled hands made long, swooping strokes from his knee up the inside of his leg to the upper thighs. Now, he could not prevent this, any more than he could stop a solar eclipse…even if he’s really desired to. It had been building all these years…no one set of circumstances was the cause…now, it seemed it had been inevitable from the outset.
He felt a tightening as he contracted a little when pubic hair was brushed slightly. The weight on his legs and the sensuous stretching of the gliding above him made his pulse race. A strong pair of hands turned him onto his stomach. A river of heated oil etched a blazing trail down his spine; light, feathery fingers sent the trail into the very core of his being. His buttocks were being massaged…slowly at first; then the tempo gradually increased, until two hands were counter-rotating…each squeezing alternately. Then, abruptly, it stopped. “No!!…Do not stop!” he hissed.
The other smiled and then ran expert hands once more over the surface and then between the legs, spreading them effortlessly. Careful palms cradled a very sensitive area that had just been exposed. Then the area was being stroked as a tongue flicked. Swiftly, he was on his back again and a [?] head and darting tongue were busy. His eyes were tight shut, tears squeezing from the corners. A hand began to pump, as if to milk. He felt he’d go mad! He was being oiled again, his groin massaged, then gently stroked. A flush had crept from the base of his skull to his groin. He yearned, he ached; wished he never were. Weight was upon him and his legs invaded. A shock wave swept through him for a second, only to be replaced by pleasure; as an easy pressure gyrated smoothly, exquisitely within him. …vibration..teasingly delicious vibration. How uniquely wonderful…the feeling at the base..there.. A circle of thumb and forefinger was working, too,…pulling slowly up and squeezing. The rhythm increasing, the grip tightening. A stray finger, circling the tip, pressed. Fire! fire; lips on lips…depths..spirals..colours, tensing…reaching..climbing..flying..soaring..darkness that is light..the explosion..the NOVA. Tomorrow..tomorrow will tell…Sleep. “Sleep.”
dailybridgerton
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tangentwithtanner
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