The Touch of Bliss — A Sensual Reckoning (Muse of Shadow) (6 page)

“Teach me… give it… please more…” It was all I could say.
Fragmentary words to sum up a lifetime’s hunger.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Lori.” She was working me gently with
a subtle motion of her hips, slipping in the head and the first few inches of her
chocolate monster. But I could feel the tremble where she switched from nails
to fingers, her hands tracing out the curve of my hips. I could feel how she
wanted this as much as I did.

This is you. This is where it begins, the first time. Thinking
all your life about how much you wish you could go back again, and here you are.

“I want to hurt…” I whispered the words, pleading, begging with
them. “I want to feel, I want to be yours, be your virgin, be your first.
You’re my first, baby… Oh please, let me hurt for you…”

I felt her groan as much as I heard it. When she grabbed onto my hips,
her hands were shaking. I felt the pressure of the dong’s thick head shift inside
me as she changed her angle.

I felt a storm of pain and pleasure twist through me. It started deep
within my sex, then pushed out in every possible direction as Serina buried every
long, thick inch of that incredible dong inside me.

Each time she hit bottom, I could feel the buzz of the butterfly
against my butt. My clitty was on fire, my hand still thrust between my legs to
flick it furiously. Stretching out my fingers, I could feel the lube-slicked
wetness of that shaft pumping me, matching the view in the mirror. Serina’s
tits were bouncing, her hands spanking my butt now as she rammed me hard and
fast, hard and fast, harder, harder, still harder.

We climaxed together in a wave of pleasure that had no end. She
had her hand around her shaft at the end, pushing it into me and back into her
at the same time. Her eyes were closed, mouth open wide and gasping to show the
intensity of those vibrations against her clitty.

I was soaking wet, aching, shaking as she pulled out and I rolled
away from her. She collapsed against me, still thrusting her hips by reflex.
Her big, beautiful penis was hard between us. I stroked it with one hand,
twisting it so that the butterfly shifted against her, making her gasp.

We kissed for a long while.

We fell asleep together.

I woke up and we were under the covers, Serina tight against me.
She’d somehow gotten her dong disassembled and had maneuvered me into bed
without me waking up. That’s how tired I was.

Not tired. Exhausted. Sore. Aching, hungry, satiated, thirsty,
drowning.

I slid down just a bit, so that I could rest my head against
Serina’s breasts. I felt their incredible warmth, their softness, the faint trace
of sweat that clung to her.

I felt her heart beating against me.

This is what it means to feel alive.

It was all I could think about as I fell into the most beautiful
sleep.

While I slept, I dreamed.

The dream is a good one. You can taste her even through your tears,
which are because everything changed last night.

When I woke, I remembered. I breathed. I felt the touch of an
absolute bliss.

“Are you okay?”

I twisted around to see Serina on her side, her dark eyes on me.
She looked as though she’d been awake for a while. Watching me with that shy
smile.

“Yes.”

Yes, oh yes.

“Do you want to talk?”

“That would be good. Yes.”

Yes, oh yes.

Her smile turned from shy to sly, like it did. “Do you want to do
something else first?” she said.

I smiled back.

She’s lifting me and I’m pliant in her hands, soft and
shapeable and responding instinctively to her touch as she pushes me back on
the bed. She embraces my sex with her mouth and I can feel all the uncertainty drained
from me. Her tongue is long and light, tasting me with a trembling hunger that
I can feel as sharply as I feel it greet my clitty with its wetness. Her sex is
dark and pink, chocolate and cherry, and sweet beneath my tongue.

We’re groaning, thrusting against each other, trembling with
each slow caress. Like we do each and every day and night since those
incredible days and nights that we met. I feel her break away, her tongue
tracing the edges of my swollen nether lips. Her breath is cool against me,
ragged and fast like mine. Both of us whispering each others’ names so that she
knows how much I love her, I know how much she loves me…

“Lori? You okay?”

“Yes.”

Yes, oh yes…

“You look like you went away for a second there.”

Last night, I dreamed the future.

“Yes.”

I felt the tears, which were because everything changed last
night.

Yes, oh yes oh yes yes yes…

“Don’t cry, baby. Please. Just tell me what you want.”

This. Just this…

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Caelyn Alba
is a pseudonym responsible for the
writing of erotic fiction and memoirs, much of it in conjunction with husband
Sean Gerard Leah. In real life (when she can figure out what that is), she
teaches humanities in the Pacific Northwest.

EROTICA FROM
MUSE OF SHADOW

EIGHT
DAYS — An Erotic Odyssey

EXTRA
CREDIT — A Master Class in Summer Swinging

THE
NIGHT I LOVED YOU — An Erotic Awakening

PLAY
FOR ME — A Sexual Concerto

TEN
YEARS GONE — An Erotic Reunion

The TOUCH OF BLISS
— A Sensual Reckoning