Peak of Desire

Still, quiet dark.

The scarlet digits of the bedside clock hold midnight at bay by thirty minutes. He stifles a yawn, hears her do the same. The bed and the pillow are so soft, so welcoming. The gentle slope downwards to oblivion beckons.

And then she presses her naked buttocks back against his loins, wriggling seductively. “Mmm,” she breathes, barely audible, but the sound travels along his spine at the speed of light. She wriggles again, undoubtedly able to feel his cock beginning to swell against her arse. With the slightest shift of his hips, his growing erection aligns itself with the tight valley between her full cheeks. He thrusts gently, and this time her murmur is fuller, more pronounced.

Within a few delicious seconds, he has been drawn back from the verge of sleep, transformed from entirely flaccid to totally unyielding. He slips a hand beneath her buttocks, fingers questing between her thighs. The lips of her sex are already inflamed, ripe for pleasure. He parts them with his middle finger, finds that her secret flesh is warm and wet. His fingertip glides upwards, locating the hard nub of her clitoris. She groans as he circles it, pressing her buttocks back to meet his hard shaft.

He could finger her to orgasm, or slip down the bed, part her thighs and flick his tongue across her clitoris until she clutches at his head and screams in completion.

But the press of her buttocks is wanton, insistent.

He deciphers the unspoken message.

He licks his fingertips, then smears saliva over his glans, along his shaft, until he’s sure that his flesh gleams wetly in the dark. His hardness slips between her thighs, his shaft lying along the cleft of her labia, his glans against her clitoris. He thrusts slowly, the corniced corona of his cockhead pressing against her clit, fucking her peak of desire. She casts one leg across both of his, opening herself entirely to his thrusts. He can sense how the soft folds of her sex have bloomed just beneath his cockhead. It would be so easy to slip inside her now. His cock craves submergence, cries out for it, and he suspects that she would not be entirely opposed to feeling his hard flesh opening her, filling her.

But there is deliciousness to this delay, for both of them. She’s being carried along the upslope of the parabola, her muted cries of delight fusing together, becoming one continuous exhalation of pleasure, and he glows arrogantly with the knowledge that he can fuck her to orgasm without ever entering her. And though there is a sense of frustration for him, it is a delicious one, and he savours the tension building within himself, as he relishes the sounds of her bliss, the way her body ripples against his.

Now she licks her own fingers, transferring more moisture to her clitoris, to his cockhead. She cups the underside of his shaft, holding his glans hard against her. He quickens his pace, focusing the epicentre of his thrusts upon her clitoris. And now there’s an urgency to her gasps, an insistency in the way she’s clutching him to her, in the way that she’s rolling her hips. Her cries become ragged, a staccato exclamation of gratification as her orgasm flows through her, over her.

He’s close himself, and he continues to thrust against her clitoris, thinking that this is what she wants, to feel the hot pulses of his seed coating her sex, her fingers. But her fingertips press down against his shaft, deflecting his cockhead until he’s thrusting his way between her swollen labia, gliding deep within her molten sex.

He knows that if this is to last, he has to slow, now, almost to a stop. But her body is so alive to his, thrumming with the electricity generated by her climax

“Don’t stop,” she gasps, as though she’s read his thoughts.

So he holds the pace of his thrusts, increases them, seduced by the liquid clasp of her flesh. He feels himself on the brink, feels her body begin to tremble as her second orgasm overcomes her, and he lets go in a shuddering release, pouring himself into her.

And as suddenly as it began, it is over.

She undrapes her leg from his, rolling back onto her side. He pulls her tight to him, his cock still embedded within her flesh. She wriggles contentedly against him. He can hear her breathing settling, gradually becoming deeper.

The bed and the pillow are so soft, so welcoming. The gentle slope downwards to oblivion beckons. Spent and gratified, he surrenders to time, and slips into darkness.