Manzana

Manzana

Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance

Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance

Summary

A sexual vignette of a woman who finds herself wanting something a little more delicious than the apple postre she's making....

Summary

A sexual vignette of a woman who finds herself wanting something a little more delicious than the apple postre she's making....

Content

Submitted: November 12, 2017

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: November 12, 2017

A A A

A A A


She was slicing apples when he came and enfolded his arms around her. Cutting them into meticulous little wedges, the blade parting the fruit with a ker-thunk as it struck the plate she’d set the apple on. “Delicious…” he whispered with his lips touching the lobe of her ear. “Delicious…” And he planted a kiss on her neck, just behind her jaw. She felt his lips soften, then press into her skin as he suckled there for a moment. With a burst of laughter and feigned reluctance, “Stop!” she cried, and reached up with her hand, stretching back and encircling the back of his head with her arm. Drawing him closer. He moved down lower on her neck. “I’m gonna have a string of hickeys all the way down to my neck line if you don’t stop…” she whispered, and there was a playfulness in her voice that indicated just how willing she really was to have those hickeys all the way down to her neck line. In fact, it didn’t bother her at all. He hadn’t so much as left a single hickey since high school, and that was ten years ago. It delighted her that he was wanting to do so, now.

The winter chill and the night’s previous dewfall had left frost on the windowpane of the kitchen. A light dusting of snow had heaped itself on the grass outside and aggregated around the northern bases of the trees. She cast a sideways glance out the window to the world outside and a wave of sexual arousal washed over. She shifted her hips, wiggled her ass a bit as he pressed against her. She felt constrained—but constrained in the way that lovers want to be constrained—as he placed his arms on either side of her, gripping the countertop. He nudged the back of her head with his nose, inhaled deeply, came around the other side of her neck to kiss and suckle there. She cleared her throat. “Suck like that on my tits and maybe you’ll get a good splashing of my wetness all over you…” she told him. Nothing feels more cozy, more home-like, than making love in the wintertime… Her apple-wedges forgotten, the pie-crust neglected by the stove top, the oven ticking as it was preheating, she turned to him and laid both of her hands on either side of his face. She slid them upwards, ruffling his hair, dragging her fingernails across his scalp. The gesture pleased him, and he pulled at his shirt to untuck it while she worked at unbuttoning the top buttons. Now that his arms had moved, her sexual arousal moved to motion—and she darted to her right and towards the hallway leading to the bedroom. She heard him laugh, heard his footfalls as he gave chase. Her heart now pounding with the exertion of her sprint, she felt herself becoming increasingly excited. She cut hard right on the linoleum, rounding the corner, her heels gripping the slick surface as she struggled to keep her balance. I want him, but I want him to catch me, too. Some animal part of her loved the chase. Loved the avidity with which he would take her, push her down. A prize gained. A body dominated. And she would not tell him that it was actually her who was gaining a prize. It was his body she was dominating. She wouldn’t tell him because he knew. It was in the unspoken way in which he looked down to her whenever they made love after this little forays. It was in the way that he allowed her to get ahead of him just so he could watch her ass move, her breasts bounce with every footstep, with every lunge forward. She pulled her shirt up and over as she ran, throwing it back over her shoulder like a declaration of defiance. She turned around and saw him grinning as the shirt fell by the wayside. And now, she worked at her bra. But, undoing the clasps threw her off balance and she stumbled. She pulled it off over her head, never slowing. He’d gained a little on her and now her breasts were bared to the air and they bounced in glorious, titillating little shudders that excited her. Ripples of motion tickled the point of each nipple. The shock of running had made the wetness of her lips even more apparent—she could feel it running down her thighs. She knew that if she took her pants off right now, there’d be a wet stain where she’d been aroused. In all of this thinking, all of these considerations—thoughts of just how fucking horny she was and just how much she longed for him to fill her up—she had let her attention lapse. And so as she rounded the corner going into the living room, she was met with him blocking her way. He came around, arms outstretched. She slowed just short of stopping and came up against his body. He swept her up, embracing her and tossing her body upwards. She wrapped her legs around him and he looked down to her naked breasts, almost eye-level to him. He buried his face in them, brought one of his hands around and hefted them up so that he could suck at the nipples. “There. That’s better…” she told him, still heaving.

The fall downwards onto the couch excited her. She struggled for a moment to breathe as the force of the landing had left her reeling. He loomed over her, unbuttoning his shirt then moving down to his belt buckle where his fingers worked to get it undone. “We’re gonna do it right here…” he told her, and she shook her head and put on an expression of discontentment. “But I’ll get the cushions all wet with my cum…” she said, expressing false concern. “Don’t worry about it, doll. Don’t worry about it…”

He pulled down his pants and his cock, turgid from his erection, came down in a kind of halting flop. She spread her legs instinctively, her body language betraying what she wanted most. His head bobbed there, jutting out from the bush of his pubic hair. “Fuck me, then. Go on. It’s what you want…” she teased. And she saw that his tip was glistening with those precursors to orgasm—his pre-cum. Already his balls were pulled up close his body, as they usually were whenever ejaculation was imminent. “Fuck me till you squirt, and then you can cum…” she said. It came out as an admonishment and she clucked her tongue. “Don’t wanna suck you today…just fuck me. If I suck you, I’ll choke on that hot sperm, there’ll be so much of it…” He obliged by reaching down, hooking his fingers into her waistband and pulling her pants—panties and all—down and over her knees. She let her legs spread even wider, and caught a glimpse of her panties before he tossed them aside. Indeed, there was a dark wet spot where she’d been so aroused from before. She reached down, felt her vaginal lips, slipped her fingers inside where the warmth was and moaned. She had to feel of it before he slipped inside of her. This palpable manifestation of that lust that he’d lit inside of her.

He climbed onto the couch, reached under her knees and lifted her ass up. His penis was at just the right angle to slip inside of her, unimpeded. She felt like her entire bottom half—ass, pussy and all—was swelling up as he filled her. “Finger me in my ass, baby…” she said, because her pussy was pouring out all over her, his cock displacing most of her wetness so that it trickled over her perineum. He obliged and now she felt as though she were being fucked in both places at the same time. Not that she’d ever been fucked by two different people simultaneously, but a fantasy of hers had always been to have him fuck her in both places, somehow, at the same time. She thought of him having two huge cocks and chuckled at the notion. “You laughing little slut…” he said while he grinned broadly, and pulled himself out for the first thrust. Her laughter subsided as he slid deep. And then she groaned—a guttural sound of raw animal pleasure, not having anything to do with pretenses or poise. She was bared to him more than just bodily—tracers of intense sensation were working their way up over her lower abdomen, spreading upwards to her breasts and benumbing her to the bites marks he was leaving across both of her shoulders as he bent down and began to nibble at her. Each time he moved in to slide into her, his hands—still grasping her legs—would move forward, as well, and lift her up higher. This increased angle of penetration made her squeal and her pelvic muscles tense. She tried to tighten herself down around his cock, her muscles clenching and unclenching. With every clench, he hissed and breathed deep and with every release he collapsed a little. She was pulling every droplet of pre-cum from his cock to help lube her. Her breasts she squeezed between both her arms, bringing her arms together so that he could ogle their girth. And he did so, searching her chest, his eyes roving over her nakedness with a hunger that she could only equate to the first time they’d ever fucked. He worked her—worked her hard—moving so that his body slid across hers. He groped her breasts, squeezing them almost to the point of pain. But he knew the threshold, he knew at what point it began to be uncomfortable and so his gropes and squeezes only elicited more sensations of pleasure and she was wracked with her orgasm. He lay across her so that he could continue penetrating her in both places—she could feel his finger pressing upwards into her pussy where it made his shaft seem all the larger—and as some of her poured out of her, it dribbled down her ass and across his hand. He kissed her—he loved kissing her after the climax—and she could feel the heat in his lips drawn into hers. And in her fevered throes, she happened upon an idea both deviant and different. “Go get an apple,” she commanded, and he smiled, pulled out—a trail of her cum and his pre-cum drizzling out onto the couch cushion—and stood by while his cock pulsed in time to his heartbeat, slathered in their sexual moistness. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. And did as he was told. And when he came back with it, she placed it between her breasts and told him, “Now…I wanna taste you on this. You know how I love salty and sweet…”

He fingered her while she stroked his cock and when he came, he came in hot splattering jets that landed on her breasts and shot across the apple where it trickled down the sides like a glaze.

To his delight and to the sexual satisfaction of that animalistic, sexually savage part of herself, she bit down on the cum-glazed apple and ate it. “Yes…” she said in between bites, “Yes…just as delicious as I’d imagined…”

 


© Copyright 2018 Aurora M. Soleado. All rights reserved.

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