1.

                                    

                                          
(Song: Older~ Isabel LaRosa) 
"Does it feel good?"
"It does."
"Tell me. What do you like about it?"
"I—I like how you move your fingers over my skin. I like how your lips brush my shoulder. I love how I feel your breath on my bare skin."
"What more, darling?" His lips brushed her neck again. 
"I like how you hold me."
She sat in his lap, her bare back pressed against his chest. His lips brushed over her neck, while his fingers traced small lines on her stomach. 

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
"What would you like?" His raspy voice sounded like waves crashing on the shore. Millions of water-pearls flying in the air, dampening the skin and making it stick with salt and sand. 
"Nothing more than you. And nothing less," she said. Her voice sounded as fluid as rivers and as clear as bells. 
"Then I shall obey," he said and his fingers wandered up to her throat, fingers brushing slightly over her neck.

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
"Your skin is so warm," he whispered and traced the curve of her breasts. 
Like rivers flowing on her skin, his fingers left traces of cold sensations burning like pleasant fires of hell. 
She let her head fall down on his shoulder, her thick hair curling slightly. 
And he continued his sensual touches. 
"Be good for me," he said and his fingers brushed over her nipples softly. 
Such a swift movement, but so full of calculus. 
And she began to shiver under his touch. 
There was not much he needed to do, other than teasing her skin slowly, other than gliding down ever so slightly before moving up again, never touching her crotch fully. 
His other hand traced lines on her thighs. 
Fingers brushing the insides of her thighs, coming higher, his pinky voluntarily touching her labia softly, before he pulled back, leaving Aresu yearning for more. 
Her breath became shallow, her skin more sensitive to his touch as she grew more and more desperate.
"I ask again: what do you want?"
"You."
She felt him smiling right before his lips found hers. 
His fingers gripped her waist and pulled her closer, both bodies uniting like a flame. 
Firstly two candles lit independently now becoming one huge flame, dancing in unity, passionately kissing and feasting at the other's light.
Light from thousands of stars not bright enough to compare with their flames. 
And those flames licked at the covers, at all the shadows, embracing them in everlasting passion. 

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
"Rafe," she whispered, her voice sounding like rain droplets on a glassy roof. 
"Mmh?" He asked, his fingers moving up to her throat. 
And their eyes met passionately. Half-lidded, covered in lust and desire and yearning for more. 
"I shall deliver," he said, his finger sliding between her thighs, moving swiftly over her crotch before his finger slipped in between her labia. 
She was already moisty from his touch and when his fingers moved over her soft and silky skin, her legs began to shiver softly. 
"Shh, you have to wait, baby."
His tongue glided over her neck again, tingles erupting under her skin.
"Be a good girl for me."
Aresu shivered again, her hands kept in place by his strong grip. Her back was still leaned  against his chest. 
She felt vulnerable, not being able to kiss him, being pressed against him like that. 
His fingers moved faster, the steady rhythm gone, his movement making her open her legs even wider. 
Cold air glid in between her thighs, sending a wave of embarrassment and joy into her veins. 
She closed her eyes in pleasure, her head still resting on his neck. 
"That's it baby. That's it."
His fingers pushed down deeply into her and she felt herself twitching involuntarily. 
She just came. 


For akleoo I quote: 
Lust. Passion. Strawberries. :) 
If you know you know hehe
For everyone else who's reading: 
We had a very ✨wild✨ English teacher who loved to analyze Desdemona's handkerchief with the strawberries on it. (Othello)
Her facial expression while showing how to eat a strawberry lustfully were... quite extraordinary. 
That's it. 
That's the story. 
And none of us will ever forget that moment... and her facial expression.
Byeee