Sensually Sinful
Story Codes: M/F, Consensual, Exhibitionism

Sensually Sinful
by Joel Lightman

Their eyes met across the room. Though neither would dare voice it, there was a crackle, a
sparkle, a momentary pause of breath as they drank each other in. The bar was busy, and only
afforded them snatched glances, stolen through the melee of people, drinks and revelry.

What to say? Which words would do? Should they speak in platitudes, and swim in the subtext?
Perhaps words were unnecessary, and they could bathe in the glory of sensation – sight, taste
and touch? He wanted to breathe her in, immerse himself in that smile, those gentle eyes, the
lilt in her voice that carried him away from here, high above the noise and the crowd.

Fate intervened. They found themselves face to face, drinks in hand and hearts in mouths.
They spoke, stutteringly at first and then easing into free flow, the bar’s cacophony made dim
by their fascination, their proximity and the first shimmerings of a deep desire. He reached out,
hands finding her shoulder, fingers surprised by the electricity in the touch. He lingered longer
than he intended, stunned by the exquisite tenderness in her eyes, gilted with a hunger –
irrepressible and undeniable.

The evening becomes a blur, attentions too focused for the vagaries of time. They step closer
to one another, then closer still, their eyes anticipating their next move, stomachs invaded by
butterflies. It happens without thought, one moment they are laughing, the next their lips are
locked in the most tender embrace. Their gaze never falters, even as their tongues intertwine,
desire welling up inside them both, heating the air into a passionate aura, faded reds and
heated oranges dappling the darkness of the bar.

They leave early, unable to wait. They walk slowly from the bar, enjoying the play of the cool
night air over the heat of their skin. Their fingers interleave, bodies craving intimacy and the
privacy of home. Both of them shiver in the breeze, but temperature is far from the cause. Both
are nervous, neither was prepared for the somersaults their stomachs were taking.

It takes an age to get behind closed doors, but the click of the latch comes eventually, like the
snap of a starting pistol. Hands find bodies, lips meet lips and both struggle to absorb as much
of the other as possible. Within minutes, clothes lie on the floor, and they push against the
wall,  the suppleness of her white skin contrasting against the darker of his. His hands explore
her body, finding her breasts, circling her nipples, gently at first, then harder as they grind
against each other in mesmeric rhythm. He falls into the sound of her breathing, floating on the
shallow gasps of her pleasure. Fingers find the hem of panties and slowly draw them down,
completing her nakedness before him.

He lays her down, her body beautiful against the pale sheets. He can see the want in her eyes,
she can feel the reciprocation from his. His mouth trails over her shoulder, gentle nibbles and
tentative licks marking his route down across her chest. He rests a moment over her stomach,
enjoying the rise and fall of her breathing. He runs his fingers gently across her hips, before
arcing downward with his tongue, teasing, tasting, wanting her.

She gasps as he makes contact. The long, languid circles sending electric rivulets up her
spine. His hands draw her legs further apart, wanting her vulnerable to his tongue, her
pleasure at his mercy. His tongue matches the rhythm of her hips, undulating between fast and
slow, controlling the rise and fall of her passion. Drawing her to the edge, and holding back,
drawing her back again and once again pulling her back, teasing her with her own orgasm.
Eventually, she cannot hold back, and he guides her past the point of no return, relishing the
writhing under his tongue, pushing back against the bucking of her hips, his ears full of her
cries, moans and entreaties. She stiffens and the relaxes completely, body limp against the
bed, breath coming in small gasps.

She reaches down and takes him by the wrists, pulling him towards her, wanting to feel him
inside her, wanting to be filled with him.. Their eyes meet again, and he sees how hers widen
as she feels him press intimately against her, slowly sliding himself into her, gentle pressure
giving way to her innermost embrace, wet around him, holding him tightly. They kiss eagerly as
he begins to slide himself in and out of her in the slowest and gentlemost rhythm.  She coils her
legs around him, drawing him deeper, whispering to him how he feels as he presses himself
against her.

They shudder together, in reciprocated pleasure, their rolling rhythm increasing apace. Their
gentle desire has been replaced by a visceral, passionate hunger, both needing to experience
the other completely, to coalesce and climax against the friction. Their bodies become slick with
sweat, their fingernails leaving pale red traces down the other as they leave their inhibitions
behind, burying themselves wanton desire, fire aflame in their bellies, and passion screaming
from their coupling.

There is nothing but rhythm now, 2 bodies locked in a sexual tango, rise but no fall, urging
each other on, pushing at the boundaries of their endurance, using every reserve of strength
as they approach their imminent release. He whispers to her, tells her he can’t hold on any
longer. His voice triggers her orgasm, and her gasps trigger his, simultaneously erupting in
paroxysms of pure pleasure, unbound by inhibition, absolute pleasure delivered direct to the
blood stream. They are left shaken, surprised by the heights they have reached.

They lie, side by side now, bathed in a gentle glow, sharing a film of sweat. Her head lies on his
shoulder, his arm across her chest. They are peaceful, talking as if they have known each
other for years. Through the window, the moon keeps a watchful eye on the two lovers, casting
a pale glow over their dalliance, willing them to be more than a moment, more than a snatched
memory. As they sleep, it continues to watch, showering hope amongst the coiled limbs.

Copyright© 2009 Joel Lightman

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