“Killing me softly with her song, killing me softly…” the soft, raspy voice of Rod Stewart drifted sexily on the warm current of air as the fire crackled and popped in the upstairs living room. A rosy golden glow suffused the room, stopping short at the heavy drapes holding out the darkness. Shadows danced on walls and ceiling lending the room a certain life of its own, while two naked figures lay on the thick ruddy fur in front of the fire.
“Mmmmm … god, Em, you sure know how to push a woman’s buttons. Ahhhhh…” Mac’s stretching was so feline that Em could almost hear a purr in her friend’s soft voice.
“I aim to please, hun,” she breathed into a dainty ear, blowing wisps of hair clear as she continued to tease the folds and channels with the tip of her wine-moistened tongue. Her hand resting on Mac’s alabaster cone of a breast felt a shiver ripple through the blonde’s body. The nipple stiffened to attention. Em smiled to herself as her fingertips felt the movement, then concentrated their endeavors on that point.
Mac’s body squirmed with wanton delight at the touches assaulting her body and senses. Her skin took on the likeness of white molten liquid in the light of the fire. She luxuriated in its warmth. Disrupting the spell for a brief moment, Em reached for a small long-necked ceramic bottle nearby.
Feeling it to be warm enough, she held it some distance above her lover’s glowing skin and began to slowly pour the contents in a trickle over the conical breasts, making a particular point to include the stiffened nipples. The viscous stream trailed down to the flat stomach, pooling in the depression of the belly button. Em placed the bottle back where the fire would keep it warmed then, resting on one elbow, gazed for a few seconds along the length of Mac’s supine body.
She was the quintessential goddess from the pages of ancient Rome or Greece—smooth flowing lines, flawless, breathtakingly beautiful. Golden tresses spread around her head like a glowing aura. Soft, moist, rose-petal lips parted slightly, bespeaking untold pleasures. The neck sweeping from a classic jawline down onto the gently undulating chest with its twin conical peaks swelling high and smooth, with each topped by its lonely stiff sentinel, dropping away from these twin mounts to the smooth, flat plain of the stomach with its slight curves and lines.
Beyond this plain the glowing fire followed the gentle slope down below the belly to the solitary low hill—the mons, covered with soft golden-white curls, through which Em could get a glimpse of the secret cleft dropping out of sight behind the far side of the mons. The legs, like two exquisitely smooth rounded lines of hills, drifted away from the magic cleft. Em drank in this vision of splendor with held breath, such was her friend’s beauty. Eyes fluttered open and Em found herself drowning in pools of deep rich blue. She bowed her head and kissed the parted rosy lips.
The chocolate syrup had run its course, from nipple-tipped breasts to the pool nestled on the plain between breasts and mons. Mac’s skin glistened in the fire’s glow and Em began to use her fingers to gently spread and massage the silky fluid over the smooth skin. As she tongued Mac’s mouth, Em’s fingers glided around and over slick breasts.
She teased the nipples, softly squeezing, twisting and pulling them, feeling the mewing sounds throbbing from Mac’s throat and resonating in their tongues. Her hand wrapped itself one breast and felt the gorgeous bulk under her palm and fingers, like clutching an syrupy balloon. Em massaged it, increasing the pressure as her ardor grew; she sensed a fiery warmth welling between her own legs.
Em’s hand pressed down over the stomach, massaging the chocolate in, then easing off and allowing just her fingertips to skim across the ultra-fine hair covering her lover’s body. She withdrew her hand from its southern movement and caressed the curve of breast, neck, and shoulder, grasping golden tresses tight as she kissed deeper, stronger, forcing her tongue to explore every reach of Mac’s mouth, sucking, nipping, pulling her wet lips.
With a final sweep of the lips with her tongue, Em moved her mouth to Mac’s breast, taking a mouthful of spongy flesh and hard nipple—drew it in deep, teased the tip rus escort of the nipple with her tongue, rasping back and forth and around the nodule. Mac groaned and arched her back, grabbing a handful of Em’s long, dark hair, then reaching between their bodies, groping for a full pendulous breast. Em groaned in response.
Letting go Mac’s hair, Em trailed her hand down the side of the woman’s face, tracing the jaw with her thumb, paid homage to the other breast standing unattended, then edged slowly southward over the slickened stomach and stopped, fingertips to silken curls.
Mac’s hips squirmed with anticipation. A deep guttural groan rose from her lips as she forced her head back, offering her neck to Em’s nibbles. The hand disappeared from the upper slope of Mac’s mons, but returned seconds later. She felt the exquisite sensation of warm chocolate flowing onto her mons, soaking her tight curls there, seeping slowly into the folds of her pussy lips. She spread her legs wider so that the thick liquid penetrated her cunt and overflowed, down between her butt cheeks.
Em eased her fingers through the thickened pubic curls till her palm rested on the mound. She excruciatingly dipped her fingers into the damp slit, gently slipping her fingers between the labia. Taking her middle finger, Em rested it full-length along Mac’s pussy, left it there for a few minutes while toying with the pussy lips on either side with her remaining fingers.
Mac squirmed under her hand, but Em kept a steady pressure on her friend’s slick, silky cunt. Mac’s breathing had increased a little; Em could hear her heart pounding between her breasts. Once again, Em pushed her tongue into Mac’s mouth, drawing and coaxing the other’s tongue into her own. She pushed her middle finger deeper between the labia; it submerged from sight like a submarine slipping below the glistening surface of the ocean.
Mac gasped at the pressure of Em’s finger sinking into her very being. She felt her pussy lips part, making way for the long digit. Ohhhhh, merde! A roaring filled Mac’s head as a volcanic pressure welled up from deep between her legs and filled her body. Her blood felt afire. A tingle teased her to the roots of her hair, as her head rolled side to side now that Em’s mouth had returned to her breast. Aaahhhh!
Instinctively, Mac’s back arched, pressing her mons and cunt hard up against Em’s hand and fingers. She couldn’t tell if there were two fingers or more now exploring her inside. She felt them pushing, rubbing, slipping over the walls of her wet love cave, pressing the curves and ridges inside. The fingers pushed up into her, deeper, then slipped back—almost out of her—then up into her again, and again. The rubbing, pushing in and out, went on for what felt like ages. Mac could feel her juices filling her cunt, seeping out between Em’s pumping fingers, and wetting her pussy, quivering under Em’s palm.
“Ohhhhhhh! Mmmmmmm! … YES!” A galaxy of stars exploded behind her closed eyes. A rushing wind, or her blood, roared in her ears … and an electrifying jolt shot through her body, from toes to scalp. Em’s thumb was rubbing her hard clit while her fingers explored the region of her G-spot.
Mac’s torso almost leapt off the fur rug, her back arched to the point she felt it might break. She worked her hips against Em’s hand, forcing the pressure on her clit and inside her cunt to a point beyond bearable. She couldn’t get enough pleasure, had to have it … had to have more … MORE! Her hips rotated, pushed … fingers drummed her G-spot … her clit was a buzzer, shooting heavy jolts of shock up into her brain at every touch.
Mac’s head thrashed side to side, unable to cope with the waves of exquisite pleasure assaulting her brain. She felt her blood was on fire. A pressure was building deep, deep inside her, down low. A tidal wave of ecstasy was rushing forward. She could feel it. All her senses directed their total focus on one single point … her belly. Then the dam burst!
“AHHHHHH! OH … MY … GOD!” The orgasm was her own personal tsunami. It swept through her entire being, cleansed it of every single sensation, leaving in its phenomenal wake nothing but euphoria. The power of the rush reeked beautiful havoc yenimahalle escort in her mind. A blinding white light flashed behind her eyes. Her muscles convulsed as another wave followed close behind the first … then another.
Behind the horizon of her sea of pleasure, Mac could sense a deep, deep throbbing. Her blood? Her pulse? Her mind tried to seek out the source. This is where her ecstasy originated … from this point … somewhere.
“Mmmmmm … yessss!” Her horizon blurred as another wave of pleasure rose up and crashed on the shores of her mind. The throbbing continued.
Em’s face radiated with a beatific glow as she watched her lover in the throes of orgasmic delight. Em continued to pump her fingers in and out of Mac’s cunt. Her fingers … her entire hand was covered in the creamy juices that flooded from between Mac’s legs. Beads of perspiration dripped from the tip of Em’s nose, her chin, into her eyes as she feverishly rubbed and teased the hard knob of Mac’s clit with her thumb.
Four of her fingers were buried inside the sopping pussy. And all the while Mac thrashed and bounced with every wave of her incredible orgasm. Em felt the comfortable weight of her own heavy, full breasts swaying as she bent over Mac’s hips. Occasionally her own stiffened nipples would brush her friend’s hot skin and sharp electric jolts would snap in her brain. She could feel a delicious warmth deep in her own belly, and a wetness between her legs.
Mac’s breathing was ragged. Muscles twitched, and shivers rippled through her frame in the aftermath of her orgasmic tidal wave. Her whole body had a golden sheen of perspiration and, as Em moved to kneel between Mac’s legs, she could see Mac throw an arm across her eyes and lick her feverish lips.
Sensing an impending change, Mac glanced from under her arm and saw Em’s head bow in homage to a spot between her legs. Despite her tiredness, Mac couldn’t stop her leg muscles from growing taut. She held her breath … waited.
A coolness played over Mac’s damp pussy. Nerves down her legs resonated like piano wires as Em’s warm breath blew through damp curls, and onto the glistening folds of Mac’s labia. Her skin, still hypersensitive from multiple orgasms, sent a screaming message into her brain from a million nerve endings as Em’s lips and tongue touched the inside of one leg just above the knee. As Em moved ever-so-slowly upwards, Mac felt as if Em were branding her with a wet flame.
Mac’s pulse quickened; her blood began rushing in her ears and her breathing grew faster. She gasped aloud when the tongue reached the junction of her legs and skipped from one to the other, brushing over her pussy lips in the process. The fire continued down the inside of her other thigh, leaving a tortured trail of pleasure in its wake. Suddenly, it ceased. Every nerve in Mac’s body quivered with anticipation. Her breathing was now a series of short, sharp gasps. She was panting.
“Aaahhhhh!” The cry was inhaled with an excited gasp. Mac first felt the blunt tip of Em’s tongue sweep up the lips of her pussy, catching her breath as the tongue flattened and rasped up and down her cleft a few tantalizing times. Her outer folds were pulled aside gently and the tip of the tongue was back—this time teasing her engorged clit.
Mac’s hips struggled to lift off the rug but were held fast by Em’s head pushing hard between her legs and her arms pushing Mac’s legs apart while fingers focused on her cunt. Wet muffled sounds emanated from below as Mac lifted her head to watch Em work on her clit.
As Em sucked, kissed, licked and toyed with the ultra-sensitive bud, Mac gasped and moaned. She could feel the onrush of another orgasm. The tongue suddenly pushed pass the outer folds and dove deep inside her, lapping her juices and reaching around the walls of her pussy.
Mac collapsed back and grabbed handfuls of her own hair as another tsunami of erotic pleasure loomed on the horizon in her mind. Her entire body shook as waves of ecstasy electrified every single nerve. She felt as if her mind would explode with sensual overload, her throat wouldn’t—couldn’t—work; her mouth opened and closed silently, her cries of passion screamed only inside her head.
Em sensed the build-up in her friend’s body—she clamped her mouth down tighter on Mac’s pussy and sucked and probed with more energy, more passion. Em reached between her own legs and fingered her hot clit—inserted two long fingers inside her own dripping cunt. The two women were nearing the summit; Em couldn’t stop now even if she wanted to—and she sure as hell didn’t want to! Then they were there, at the summit! Glorious bursts of light poured over them. They were towering above the whole world, floating over a raging sea of erotic pleasure.
Wave after orgasmic wave crashed in their minds. Up here the air was so rarefied they both had to gasp, scream for every ounce of breath their lungs could suck in. They felt the blistering heat of pleasure roar through them followed closely by crackling sparks as erotic energy charged their neural system.
Time stood still; the women rode high on the crest of mindless pleasure … then the seas subsided into rolling, billowing blissful clouds. They relaxed and gave themselves up to euphoric exhaustion. Their world was silent but for the merriment of the warm fire, their sole audience, which popped and clapped.
**********
The world outside was greyish-white and diffused—insubstantial—a realm populated with ghostly, shifting shapes. The floodlights spread their muzzy glow a few pitiful yards into the foggy gloom, leaving huge areas of darkness scattered throughout the resort grounds. A grey specter slipped deftly from one dark pool to another; swirls of fog trailed the shadowy figure as it slid silently through spectral trees and shrubbery. Approaching one of the two-storey lodges, the figure melted into the deep shadows and vanished.
**********
A solid rubber grapple materialized out of the mist and caught the top rail of the balcony with a dull thunk. A heavy knotted cord trailed from the hook down into the depths of fog and shadow; it drew taut as someone pulled on it, testing the grapple’s anchorage. Apparently satisfied with its stability, the hook and line twitched slightly with the movement of a body climbing hand-over-hand.
Seconds later the sea of fog parted and a black figure emerged; attaining the balcony, the figure hoisted itself over the railing and alighted silently on the timber decking. The cord was hauled up, carefully coiled, and both the grapple and cord placed gently in one darkened corner of the balcony. The figure stood still for a few seconds as the head turned this way and that checking for noises, then on rubberized boots it approached the glass sliders leading off the balcony.
The heavy drapes had been pulled across the glass doors, effectively barricading the upstairs living area from the night, but a thin gap at the junction of the two drapes allowed inquisitive eyes insight to the room beyond.
Immediately inside the doors and a little to the left stood a large, expensive silk palm, its dark green fronds fanned out and reaching to about seven feet. Beyond the artificial potted tree and again off to the left was the open fireplace. Flames danced among the diminishing small pile of logs held in place by a rough wrought-iron grate. The sole source of light in the large comfortable living room was the fire, and a warm glow radiated out to all points, throwing dark moving silhouettes and shadows onto walls and ceiling.
Several feet from, and facing the rock-lined fireplace, squatted an over-stuffed, over-large, luxurious leather lounge of russet tones, upon which were scattered several cushions sporting wildlife woven designs. Large heavy wooden end tables trapped each end of the lounge. Partially hidden in darkness cast by the lounge, a cozy dining set for four could be discerned in the center of the room, while off to the right was a small, but well-equipped kitchenette and a fully-stocked bar. The melodic strains of a British singer crooning, “I’ll be seeing you…” a popular song from the forties, filled the room with mellow sound.
Flames flickered, danced on dark brown irises as eyes drifted slowly back towards the fire. Closer scrutiny discerned edges of a thick fur rug, the golden sheen of damp skin set aglow by the firelight—part of a face turned aside; rounded shoulders; the luscious curve of a hip. Gloved fingers adroitly removed a small leather pouch, opened it and selected the appropriate lock pick. Seconds later gloved hands gripped either slider and applied gentle pressure—no movement; resistance. Then a rubber seal sighed and the doors slid apart, sliding silently in well-kept tracks.