Free the sex

Posts Tagged ‘breasts’

The female witch had spent the long cold winter alone in a stone cottage at the edge of the forest preparing herself for spring when she knew he would arrive. As the warm winds began to blow the ice and snow from the forest she moved outdoors to the place she had selected for this joining. It was a clearing ringed closely with huge old trees and a circle of standing stones. At one end of the clearing was a raised platform covered with luxurious furs and pillows. In the center of the clearing a large fire had been laid but not yet lit. There was still much to do before his arrival.

As she laid out the wine and cakes and fruit for their refreshment later, she thought about the impending encounter. She lit the incense and adjusted the furs on the huge bed. She had felt him approaching for several days now and her excitement had been mounting. On this final day she had bathed in a clear cool lake that had not been able to quench the heat building in her body. As she anointed herself with delicately perfumed oils the passion in response to his approach continued uncontrollably.

The light of day was fading and with an effort she rose and lit the great fire. As she moved through the clearing the aroma from the oils mingled with the scent from her steaming cunt and he was close enough now for it to cause him to quicken his pace. She returned to her bed of furs and began a low moaning and her body moved sensuously as she ran her hands over it in anticipation of his touch. Her cunt was swollen and very wet and her nipples hard and throbbing.

These last few days while she could feel him approaching – finding his way through a deep forest to a place he had never been before – her mind and body burned inside and out with a writhing wanton need that had to be satisfied. She was the goddess of the empty vessel and only this mating with the great beast would make her spirit whole. Her hands continued to move over her hot silky skin raising the agony of wanting and needing to a fever pitch.

Suddenly the great stag broke through into the circle. His huge shadow played on the trees as he moved quickly and purposefully toward the platform where he stood at his full height looking down at her writhing form. She could feel the heat from his great body and she opened her legs wider and reached for him with her hands.

Her cunt was unbearably hot and flowing as he lowered his face to it and used his strong tongue to increase the raging fever in her past imagining. She reached her hands between her legs, one feeling his velvet horns, the other grasping his powerful neck as he fondled her huge ripe breasts. He raised his magnificent head from between her legs, licking his lips and searching her face with his intense eyes.

She pulled firmly on his shoulders and he moved his body so she could reach his huge stiff cock. It was hot and pulsating, the skin firm and supple, the head of a softer texture and glistening with a few drops of fragrant moisture. She lowered her head to it and it filled and heated her mouth, the moisture tasting like nectar from the gods. She held it firmly and moved the skin on the swollen shaft vigorously while he drove her to an increased frenzy with his powerful hand.

He growled low in his throat and while she continued to suck on his huge organ he pulled her roughly to the edge of the platform. Her hips writhed and she opened her legs even wider to receive him, her nostrils filled with the earthy scent of him.

His eyes were soft and glowing as his swollen organ sank to the hilt within her and wave after wave of heat flowed through her reaching to her swollen hardened nipples from the great fullness she felt inside her. He roared and snorted and thrusted deep within her with more and more urgency. She wrapped her legs around him and held him to her as closely as she could feeling the tremors moving back and forth between her body and his.

They shuddered and shouted, her head shaking from side to side, her auburn hair flying. They were both out of control and reaching for something no mortal had ever experienced. The pressure continued to build until the great explosion rocked the circle and reverberated against the night sky. If there had been those to see they would have thought that the great couple had disappeared from view. But their wavering forms could be seen against the fire light and they gradually solidified. They lay close together his head pillowed on her breasts, his arms wrapped protectively around her and rested.

Some time later, after the moon had cleared the treetops, he raised his head from her breast and looked searchingly into her eyes. He smiled and his eyes softened and half closed as he moved his strong hand to open her legs again. He moved his great body to lower his face to her moist warm cunt and she grasped his penis firmly and sucked on him eagerly, feeling him grow bigger within her mouth. They played with increasing intensity until suddenly he swung off the platform and lifting her to him placed her face down on the ground with her rear in the air. She could feel the heat from his body as he moved forward to cover her and reached to grasp her breasts.

Her nostrils filled with the strong scent of the fresh spring earth and of him as he adjusted his body so his powerful swollen organ entered to the hilt her steaming yearning cunt. The weight of him on her back added to the excitement of the fullness within her and as he began thrusting enthusiastically she felt his taut heavy balls slapping against her clitoris. The sensation was almost unbearable and she felt waves of pleasure encompassing her. He roared with pleasure and exploded within her pumping her to an indescribable orgasm.

And the night was not yet over…

I take this slowly, at first; as I know that even if he’s familiar with the idea, he isn’t yet comfortable with it. I would have liked to break the ice with a few videos, but circumstances didn’t permit. I settle for some Kahlua and hardcopy of some erotica I’d written (not actually with him in mind, but recent circumstances had encouraged a tend towards genericity…). The apartment is warm; not too hot, but as it’s freezing outside, it’s a welcome contrast. Cosy.

I wouldn’t have taken it this far, except that he’d confessed (to our mutual friend) that he’d wondered what it would be like, to have me up his ass (although, at the moment, that isn’t what I have in mind…). I suspected that he was trying to impress her… I guess I’m about to find out.

…and, no matter how I look at this, strategically, there’s going to be one point where I make a move that he’s going to regard as `the turning point’. I may be regarding this too analytically… still, supposing that I’m right, I then decide to make that first move a bold one, as a sort of `I’m serious here!’ gesture; I move close to him, practically sitting in his lap, and place my hands between his legs. Our eyes meet; we stare at each other, unblinking, for perhaps ten seconds; I sense that, maybe, he’s going to withdraw, so I move my hand against his crotch, sort of cupping it around his balls (which I can feel through the material of his jeans) and put my arm around his shoulders.

Well! He doesn’t run screaming from the room… on the contrary, he closes his eyes and sinks back into the couch… and, yes, I believe he has the start of an erection. Which is a relief, as I don’t think I could go any further if he didn’t. I press myself against him, my head resting on the front of his shoulder; I move my hand again, the palm against his stomach, my fingers pressing into the bulge of his erection, moving it slowly from side to side.

She enters, dressed in her usual jeans and pink floyd T-shirt. I pause to admire the way the psychedelic design curves around her breasts, aware that my companion is doing the same thing. She sits down on the couch next to him, puts her arms around his shoulders (over mine) and kisses him. He rises to the occasion (so to speak ), pressing his mouth eagerly to hers, and yet he doesn’t appear to have forgotten me, as he moves his crotch forward, pressing against my hand. We sit there, the three of us, slowly shifting back and forth, until it proves too much for him and he tries to push her away.

She makes that snarling sound which I’ve always translated as `Oh, no you don’t – *I* make the rules around here!’ and shoves him over sideways so that he’s forced over the arm of the chair with her practically lying on top of him, mouths still joined in a kiss. I scoot around to his front and position myself between his legs, thinking that she’s a tactical genius.
He’s still pushing back as I press harder against the front of his jeans… he moans quietly as the heel of my hand rubs the base of his penis, and suddenly he’s trying to undo his jeans with his one free hand. I help him, unzipping the fly and tugging at his denims as he lifts his hips (as much as he can with her holding him down).

His erection had almost escaped the narrow confines of his underpants, so I help it, tugging the waistband down … I’m impressed! Either the head isn’t noticeably wider than the shaft, or that it’s unusually thick (well, noticeably larger than mine… :-\). I carefully take it in my hand, squeezing gently, feeling its warmth as it swells even larger.

This is getting a tad intimidating… as she pushes him further back over the arm of the chair in what must be a rather uncomfortable position, his groin is thrust out towards me. I can’t resist the temptation to touch the end of his penis with my tongue; holding it steady with one hand (my fingers barely wrap all the way around), I slowly, tentatively lick the underside of the head, my tongue travelling around the end, eventually arriving at the tip. I taste the faint salt tang of the droplet of clear fluid that my tongue encounters there; it sets off something inside me, and I have to restrain myself. I want to be close to him, closer than just hugging him; I want him inside me. Yes.

This is something that I envy my female companion. She’s experienced this; I’d seen her tease him for hours on end, bringing him close to the edge and then withholding herself from him, pushing him until he’d grown impatient with her games and had taken her, brutally, as I wished he’d been able to take me. I think of her, pressed underneath him, both her hands held above her in one of his, her head thrown back in sensuous ecstasy, his hips forcing her legs apart, his other hand darting below to stroke her, to fold her open. I couldn’t help but feel jealous. Simultaneously, I’d wanted to be him, and I’d wanted to be her.

I wanted to be below him, to feel his weight pressing me back into the bed… to tense my muscles against his, to feel his hot breath against my neck, but, yes, I wanted to be held down and fucked by him. I wanted to feel his cock slide into me, feel the head pressing apart lips I’d never possessed and had only vaguely dreamed of possessing. I wanted to wrap my legs around his waist and feel him fucking me, slamming into me, his hips against mine. Shaking my head, I return to the task at hand -

I manage to suppress the fact that this is the first time I’ve even touched another guy’s erection (thinking, if I’m going to be a cocksucker, I’ll be a good one!) as my tongue makes a few more circuits, my lips touching him, my head making slight forward- and backward motions as I combine slow hand-massage and kissing. My lips settle around the end of the head, and I tease the underside again with my tongue. I gather from the sounds he’s making, slightly muffled by our mutual friend’s attentions, that he doesn’t object to what I’m doing.

I’d formed a vague sort of list of things to remember; try to keep my teeth out of the way, things that turned me on when she was doing this for me. It all vanished in the face of this, this object – his erection – it was getting bigger as I applied suction to the head. I closed my eyes and, for a moment, I submerged myself in the feeling of complete submission, a sense of being reduced to nothing except that which gives him pleasure.

I had no idea as to what to do next; he solved this problem (or, perhaps, our mutual friend’s attentions compelled him) by thrusting forward. The motion was slight, a matter of a few inches, but it forced the trunk of his erection past my lips, the head pushing my tongue flat against the bottom of my mouth. The section just behind the head is now -much- wider than before, and I’m glad I’d taken a deep breath just before he pushed.

Coordination! I squeeze as hard as I can with my lips and slide back, trapping the head and sucking; with the fingers of my right hand encircling the base, I can feel the blood rushing into him as I suck. With thumb and forefinger, I tighten my grip gently and draw upwards as my lips move down again. Prepared, this time, I manage to comfortably encompass the first three inches (my best guess), my lips sealed tight around the middle, my tongue tracing the bulging, pulsing veins, flicking over the channel that runs along the underside, pressing the head against the roof of my mouth.

After experimenting with a few different motions, I settle on a combination of squeezing the base, my hand moving slowly up and down, with my lips moving over the end, my saliva lubricating the head (which has grown to the size of a large egg), quickly sweeping down, taking in as much as I can before fastening my lips and slowly drawing back. From the sounds he’s making, I can tell this is going to work.

My other hand pushes his underpants back further and I reach down to hesitantly touch his scrotum. In the warmth of the room (and, most likely due to the ministrations of our mutual friend and, of course, my performance!) his balls move loosely within their skin. The tips of my fingers trace their outline, divide them, gently squeeze them; while my hand- and mouth-motions continue (increasing only slightly in pace), I ever-so-carefully encircle the scrotum with my other hand, his balls held firmly in my grip. I tug downward; he moans and bucks his hips with renewed enthusiasm. The edges of my mouth, straining around the wrist-sized circumference of his cock, twitch momentarily in a smile. Holding his balls in my left hand, I extend my index finger and press the tip into his perineum. This is where his penis joins his body; I can feel its base, and (this is quite a complicated manoeuvre, in retrospect) I’m sucking on the head, massaging the middle and rubbing the base, all just enough out of synchronisation so that he doesn’t feel obliged to come.

I can’t tell what our mutual friend is doing, but she must have done something; he arches his back and lets out a muffled groan. I draw back with his motion, then I shove my head forward, my lips meeting my hand as I take (I’m guessing again, but at least) five inches of his cock in my mouth.

I relinquish my grip on his scrotum, both hands joined around the base of his penis, pressing together and pushing; moving my head from side to side with a sinuous motion, I work my lips even further down, the head pushing towards the opening of my throat (my gag reflex was there, but not so insistent that I couldn’t ignore it), the sides rubbing against my teeth despite my jaw being open as far as possible, my lips closing eagerly around the exposed section of the base above my hands.

I close my eyes and suck, my tongue flattened along the underside, the insides of my cheeks pressing in against him, feeling him swell even larger than before; then, I move my thumbs underneath his balls and press them into his perineum as hard as I can. His cries are muffled, but his reaction is immediate; his hips buck involuntarily, his cock jerks within my mouth, and he comes. In a moment of serene detachment, I can feel the hot fluid coursing down the channel; carefully, I open my jaws just a bit wider, clamp down harder with my lips and, ignoring the rapidly growing collection of semen at the back of my mouth, slowly, sensuously, draw my head back, my lips caressing each contour, each raised ridge and vein along the way, the bulge behind the head squeezing its way out, the clearly-defined edges of the head trapped behind my lips. I can taste him now; slightly bitter, salty, and hot. My hands press into him and surprisingly, he jerks and comes again, a drawn-out, straining climax that floods my mouth with warmth. I drink it all down, my tongue massaging the head, darting out of my mouth to lick the underside again.

I encircle the base of his penis with my right hand and slowly, carefully milk the last drops from him. He’s slumped back in the chair after his second climax, our mutual friend kissing and licking sweat from his face. I glance up at her and she winks back at me. The end of his penis, still rigidly erect, slips from between my lips and I bury my nose in the wiry pubic hair, nuzzling him, relishing his scent, his warmth. I feel his erection pulse against my cheek, and I smile. I think he’s probably ready for some more…