Sunlight, Raspberries and Seeds
by A.J. Heard

Sleepily she raised her head and surveyed the long length of him, under the sheets. His cock clearly visible in the buttery morning light, rigid in it's usual morning waking ritual. Her soft lips and hot mouth engulfed him, making him moan in his groggy, unwakened state.

She loves the taste and smell of him. Sometimes of cigarettes and beer. Other times, a clean smell, like Castile soap, with an undertone of wood and forest. She loves the way his hard, velvet textured staff feels against the softness of her lips. Just thinking about it could cause her to get moist, her breath to quicken. The way he would awake and tangle his fingers in her hair as she fucks him with her mouth, till he comes with an explosion of sound. Harsh guttural cries, telling of his reluctance to come so soon, his inability to withstand the tender tortures of her tongue and lips.

Or the mornings, like this one, when he'd stop her before he came in her mouth (which she loved) and pushing her to her back, he'd plunge into her, taking her, pillaging her like some pirate Prince, before Women's Liberation and equal rights. One hand holds her wrists captive over her head, while the other defines the shape and pitch of her hunger. One of her favourite things was to resist all urges to react to his stroking of her tender lips. Each slippery stroke makes her more aware of her swollen bud, hiding within the chocolate covered, creamed, raspberry folds. Until with body trembling she cries out and pleads for him to touch her, there, just once, and of course he won't. Making her writhe and whimper till she cries in her burning frustration. Begging him, "Please" . . .

Pausing, they search each others eyes, on the edge of eternity. He's pleased and amazed by her ability to respond to his caress, knowing it is all for him. She's gratified by his want, to bring her to this place, all sweltering passion, compelling need, ready to erupt at his touch. Knowing by her complete openness to him, she could create a like rejoinder for his fulfilment.

Not incline just yet to answer her pleas, he watches her body's response to his strokes. His eyes read her as his fingers paint passion across her skin. Dark chocolate dipped aureoles with nipples, peaked and swollen, filled with longing to be touched. To feel the raspy caress of his rough tongue. Suction from his hot, wet mouth creating a storm of desire between her thighs, moist with her own rain.

She watches his face, as his hands play her like some fine instrument, her whimpers and moans the music he solicits, while her undulating and flexing hips, performing a belly dance only for his eyes, her thighs parting, a sanction and a sanctuary. Her copious juices a benediction and a prayer.

Now she cries out for him to enter her, take her, brand her with his seed. And he watches, as she writhes accompanied by wanton whimpers, and tear tracks glisten on her flushed cheeks. He can't get over her responsiveness, the passion of her spilling out like scorching lava over his soul, and it is all for him she feels and responds. He feels as if he could just watch her for hours, days, as she gets more agitated, drenched. He can smell her excitement, making him ache to plant deep his marble like length into her burning, saturated, raspberry centre.

"I want you, now," she tells him, but he resists the impulse to take her at the sound of her voice, roughened by passion, making her demand felt as well as heard. His hardened member pulses and twitches with his accelerating heat and as much as he loves the heady feeling he gets from the heights he is able to stir in her, he knows he can't hold out much longer and must surrender himself to the fires of his inevitability and craving.

Bending his head forward, his tongue stretching out till just the hard tip barely grazes the distended nipple. Her eyes close as she shivers and a loud moan is drawn from her lips. He watches as she trembles, her hips bucking and one lone wanton tear courses down her cheek. Now, wanting to feel all that passion centred on his seat of desire, no longer able to deny his own silken urges, he pushes her thighs farther apart with his knees.

In the morning light he looks his fill at her. Her heart pounding so hard he can see it in the slight quiver of her breasts. His hand strokes down her abdomen, then kneads lightly causing her hips to raise hopefully as more of her hot juices gather between her sensitive lips and slowly dribble out like the sweet juice from a ripe plum.

Unable to resist he bends forward once more but farther down and tastes her bounteous elixir. The smell of her, the taste and feel is like heady redemption to him. He can feel she is teetering on the edge, and stops. He wants to come inside her, to be enfolded in those silken walls and loose himself in their voluptuous milking. Drawing all from him only to return it tenfold in her response to his lustful adoration of her body.

Now giving in to those fleshy urges he settles himself between her wide spread thighs, and places the red bulbous tip gently against her, slipping smoothly back and forth in the heated wet there, sweet friction against the hard sentinel hidden in the satiny folds, tight and full with need. He stops for a moment, head down regaining control over his rampant urges as she sings her sirens song of desire. He frees her hands, he quickly fondles a full breast as he moves them down and caresses her waist and hips, then slowly enters . . . all the way. Feeling the resistance of her as he parts her inner walls like a plow in the new spring earth. Her moans low and throaty now, as her hips, abdomen and vulva dance ancient invitation for him. Invitation, plea, command for him to let her release in the feel of his ejaculatory planting of his seed deep within her. And at last he succumbs to her, and himself and their cries of triumph ring over the sunlit bedroom. And he holds her tightly to him like something precious and she holds him tightly to her like something holy.

Snuggled drowsily together, she looks under the sheet down the long length of him, one more time, at his sleeping cock. Then with a slight smile on her face settles into his arms and back to sleep.