Fevered Touch Under Moonlight

The door was a struggle – too many drinks, her hands teasing me through my jeans. We laughed as I finally got it open, tumbling inside.

Our mouths collided, tongues dancing with reckless need. We hit the bed in a heap, my body over hers, hands greedy for her curves. Her breasts were full, straining against her dress, and I couldn’t get enough.

Clothes vanished in a blur – her dress, my shirt, until we were down to the essentials. Her bra was black lace, barely containing her. I unhooked it, marveling at her, each breast heavy and perfect, her nipples dark and taut.

I grabbed the coconut oil from my suitcase, a beach essential, and drizzled it over her chest. She gasped at the coolness, then moaned as I worked it in, my hands gliding over her slick skin, thumbs circling her nipples. They hardened further, and I lowered my mouth, tasting the faint sweetness of the oil mixed with her. I alternated between them, sucking gently, then firmer, her back arching as she whispered my name.

Lily tugged at my boxers, freeing me. Her grip was confident, her lips closing around me with a skill that sent my head spinning. She moved with purpose, tongue teasing, taking me deep. The intensity was almost too much, and I eased her back, not ready to lose control.

I peeled off her panties, a scrap of lace that hid nothing. She was bare, her arousal evident. My fingers explored, parting her, finding her most sensitive spot. She trembled, her breaths shallow. I kissed my way down – collarbone, stomach, hips – until my mouth found her center. My tongue traced her folds, slow at first, savoring her taste, then faster, focusing on her clit. Her hips bucked, hands fisting the sheets, and within moments, she shattered, her cries sharp and raw.

I gave her a moment, but I was far from done. I positioned myself, entering her slowly, letting her adjust. Her warmth enveloped me, and soon she was moving with me, her moans building again. I kept a steady rhythm, her nails digging into my back. As I neared my peak, she stopped me, her eyes glinting. “Not yet,” she murmured.

She pushed me onto my back, her mouth reclaiming me. Her lips and tongue worked in perfect sync, one hand stroking, the other cupping me. When I couldn’t hold back, I warned her, but she didn’t pull away, taking every pulse, her eyes locked on mine as she swallowed, a faint smirk playing on her lips.
We collapsed, breathless, tangled in the sheets. Morning brought more, slower and softer, before we parted ways. But that’s another chapter.

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