Monday, September 3, 2012

Marc makes short work of the covers on Rowan's bed, throwing them back with one sweep of his arm. Mon Dieu! With everything else she does, she has time to make up the bed? He climbs in on top of cool cotton sheets and moves toward the center of the bed.

Rowan bites her lip as she slides into bed and moves toward Marc. A ceiling fan overhead makes slow lazy turns, keeping the air in the room cool. The couple seems unaware that their faces are mirrors of each other; hungry, devouring their partner's body with their eyes.

Marc has wanted to see Rowan this way for a long time now, and he's not disappointed. Her body is slender but soft; strong, but without strongly defined muscles. He's had enough of female bodybuilders in the Unformed Plane; having sex with them is like crashing your body against a brick wall, over and over.

Rowan looks at Marc and some of her doubts come flooding back. Goddess, he looks like he belongs in a boy-band or something! Her eyes betray her, feasting on his body greedily; the strong chest, muscular arms and narrow waist. His cock is long, thick and hard, hard with wanting her. She bites her lip again. If he wants me, I'm not going to question why. 

They meet in the middle of the bed and instinctively cling together, wanting to feel everything. The kisses are hot and hungry, hands moving where they will, no more holding back. He takes a hard nipple in his mouth, licking and sucking; she curls her fingers around his throbbing shaft, stroking. He bites down, tugging at her nipple and she groans, dripping wet now, aching for the feel of him inside her. Her skin feels too hot, too tight. Their mouths come back together; too long denied, they feast on the others' mouth, grinding hard into each other. "Gods, Marc, do it now, don't make me wait...." He kneels above her, his curved shaft ready; she spreads her legs, feet flat on the bed. He takes her hips in his big hands and thrusts deep; she moans and her legs come up to lock about his hips, draw him in deeper. She's wet as the Atlantic and he'd slide in easily, but she's still very tight; so he has to force himself into her, fighting for each inch. She revels in it, taking every inch, every hard thrust greedily, aching for more and yet more. "Mon Dieu, Rowan, Mon Dieu... " His cock scrapes against her g-spot, bowing her back and he writhes, feeling her grip him so tightly, squeezing like a velvet vise... "Goddess, Marc, fuck me, I want you, all of you... " He thrusts hard, deep, feeling her surrender. Her legs jerk, keeping him inside her, pulling him back in with every thrust. "Gods, Rowan, I'm not going to last like this...."

"It doesn't matter, neither am I... oh my goddess, yes, Marc, yes, don't stop!" The long muscles in his thighs flex and he's on the edge and then he's over the edge, he can feel her cumming beneath him and he cums hard, fountaining into her... They fall into a frenzy of thrusting and cumming, thrusting and cumming... It's too much; restraint vanishes utterly, two splendid animals caught in endless rut....

Her eyes are wet but she's smiling when he can focus again. "Oh goddess, Marc, thank you, I needed that...." He shushes her with a finger to the lips. "No more than I needed you, Rowan. Thank you, you were incredible, amazing... there are no words, mon cher...."

Her eyes are wide. She wants to believe him, but - "I would not ruin your reputation, cher, but may I stay here tonight? Once, I think, will not be enough" - he grins slyly - "if an 'old lady' has the stamina to keep up...." She grins so widely her face hurts. "Old lady, huh? I think I'm going to take that as a challenge...."

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