Night of Passion

Night Of Passion

Your eye centers on the bedside clock. Its green numbers are staring into the night as I slowly come back into focus, bright green blurs in a room of ghostly shadows cast by the full moon outside.

Your body is still pressed against my Chantal Rose, as you remember the passions of a few scant hours ago. You feel my hair on your face, smell my scent of rose and vanilla and the earthier scent of our lovemaking. Gently squeezing my breast you roll away from me and out from under the sheets and walk across the room to shut off the dim room lights. With the lights off, you can see the faint line of my body composed on the glass of the window. The out line of my cheek, the points of my nipples on the glass, the globes of my breasts around them, faint ghostly shadows reflected into the room by the moonlight.

You pad across the room, walking into the chair with a thump on your way to the closet. You rummage around in the bottom of the open suitcase as it sits on the luggage stand, until you find the small bottle that you’re searching for. The full moon outside fills the room with ghostly shadows that contrast with the green glow of the alarm clock….... 12:08 a.m.

You return to the bed and slip back under the sheets, back into the warmth of our bed, out of the coolness of the room.

Snuggling down under the blankets and sheets, you spoon up to me again and I wiggle away slightly from your now cooler body. My breathing is slow and shallow. You try to spoon again, pressing yourself against me, wrapping your arms around me and I sigh gently and push back into you. You cup a breast, nibble my neck. You try to hold back a sneeze as my hair tickles your nose.

A soft sigh escapes from my lips as I roll onto my tummy, the bed sheets slipping down my shoulders. You prop yourself up on one elbow and massage my neck, the ball of your thumb resting on the nape of my neck. You take long strokes along the top of my shoulders, dragging your fingernails across my soft skin, working your way downward. One slow motion pulls the sheets down to my waist. You trace a light touch down my back, along my spine, making a long slow lazy trail over my skin, just brushing the top of the bed sheets as they sit bunched up on the small of my back.

A final slow trail down my back, you take the sheets in your hand, toss them from my body. The moonlight illuminates curvy legs, topped with a luscious bum. A darker shadow rests between the cleft of my cheeks. You stroke the top of my legs along the crease where my legs join my body. I rock my hips and you know I’m opening my legs slightly. You trace your finger between the cheeks, feeling my warmth, smooth, except where you find the tight little pucker. A soft moan escapes my lips.
You take the bottle of oil that you had just retrieved from our luggage and pop the top open, drizzle a little of the oil between the cheeks of my bum. You take your fingertip, trace between the cleft, top to bottom, then along my pussy lips. The warmth of the oil encourages me to open my legs a little more.

You re-trace an oiled finger between the cheeks again and hesitate at the tiny pucker. I respond by wiggling my bum for you and I sigh softly. You reach out and take one of the bed pillows, and slide it under my hips, lifting my bum into the cooler night air. You spread my legs a little bit further apart as I lower my hips and nestle against the pillow, slipping your hand between my thighs you lay a finger along my pink slit, your palm on my button.

You take the oil bottle; drizzle a little more at the top of the cleft of my bum, letting it run down between the cheeks over my most private spot. You fingertip parts my cheeks, finds my rosebud, circles around it. You can feel it relax and then tighten under your touch, as I’m not sure, wanting, but reluctant.

You get behind my, straddle my legs.....pull me up and back so I’m on my knees, my face pressed against the bed sheets, your hand staying between my thighs. My pussy lips draped over your single finger. My button is a hot nubbin on the palm of your hand. My full breasts hang heavy and move in time with my fast breaths. Each inhale and exhale causing my nipples to brush over the sheets, teasing them to become long, hotter, and puffier.

You part my cheeks, your cock, straight out; throbbing, bouncing in time to your heartbeat, nudge my darker rosebud with the swollen crown of your cock.

Feel me resist…You pause, circle me with a fingertip, feeling me slowly relax under your touch. You take your cock in your hand, hold it to me.

I relax and you push gently.

I close my eyes, gasp.

You enter me.

More oil and I yield slightly and you hear me gasp again, as your cock pushes its way in, feeling me clinch and relax as you start to take me, fulfilling me most intimate of desires.

More oil, some going around your cock, allowing you to slip even deeper into me as you thrust. A small trail of oil flowing past, downwards, past my rosebud, onto my pussy lips, as they are split by your finger, running down the inside of my inner thigh, onto the bed sheets leaving small damp patches.
You hear soft moans of desire coming from deep in my throat and I lower myself back onto the bed, my hips on the pillow beneath. This drives your hand tight against my swollen button, forcing your finger deeper into my pussy. My wetness spreads over my pussy lips, onto your fingers, onto the cotton pillow sham.

Suddenly, my body tightens, my breath stops, and I shudder, releasing a deep moan from deep in my throat, my eyes close as I climax.

I have you trapped, held tight in me, unable to move and yet so close to your own release. I finally relax and you pull out of me, slip your cock head along my pussy lips, and stroke your cock and you cum, spurting over my pussy lips, rubbing your finger over my button.

The sensation of your hot cum, sticky on me, in me, over me as you circle my swollen, tender button with a finger covered in cum, makes me climax again. A softer, gentler orgasm but at the same time, more pleasurable as a second wave washes over me, making me sigh deep in my throat, making me shudder again, my breasts pressed hard against the bed sheets, nipples engorged and hot against my skin. A long drawn out throaty exhale with your name,” Mmmm Jarrod”

I purr.

I turn to you, my hands in your hair and kiss you on the lips. You lean down, kiss my nipples, diminished, soft and pink, surrounded by the other little bumps around the outside of my areola.

My lips brush against your ear, “C’est bon, mon amour” and you whisper back, “Oui, C’est bon, mon Chantal Rose”.