The white guest bathroom was spacious, its granite counter formerly unused, its expensive surface now marred with a clutter of brightly labeled plastic bottles, a pair of gold earrings, a long gold chain and a neatly folded black silk dress. The cheap off-white underwear had been dropped on the floor, forming stepping stones on the way to the thick glass wall that dominated one side of the room. Behind the glass was thick steam, the hiss of water, and the shape of a woman leaning forward against the wall, her breath echoing in the room.
Sura had managed to finish all her chores. Just. She'd thought the mystery erection would go away, but it resolutely had not. The tight silk dress tugging on her served as a constant reminder as Sura tried to concentrate on feeding and pruning and watering, biting her lip every so often and groaning at every sudden movement. But she'd finished, and now the rest of the day belonged to her - or, it seemed, to her cock. She could still see it standing boldly between her legs, clearly visible between her hands covering the pronounced curves of her breasts, her palms moving over the wet skin, pressing inwards firmly.
"Aaaaaa," she moaned. Why did this feel so good? She'd planned on washing first, if only to draw out the anticipation a few moments longer now there was an end in sight. But then moments had become minutes, glistening suds hanging off her arms and shoulders and descending no lower than her breasts, from which her hands refused to leave. She often enjoyed starting there, building her interest until she was ready to move one hand lower. Well she was most definitely interested, but... her palms slid back towards her sides, fingertips collecting on her nipples, squeezing.
"Fuuuck!"
Her back arched as she heard her own voice echoing off the walls. It felt like she'd never done this before, the sensations so new and intense, like every nerve was heightened with inexperience and every touch was a first intoxicating taste of adulthood. And if her breasts felt this good... finally, and with a few false starts, she managed to drag her right hand from her breast, leaving a trail of shining bodywash behind as her fingers slid down her stomach, dipping into the groove of her hips, fingertips shaking as she reached inwards.
This time there was no sound. Her throat was frozen tensed with the rest of her, an absence of sound squeezed out of her open mouth. And she couldn't stop it, her hand continued to slide all the way up her shaking length, a gasp strangled out as her fingertips passed her head, and finally released her. Her entire body sagged, heaving with her breaths.
"Aaa, aaa, haaa, what the fuck!"
It felt like, fuck! Like she hadn't touched herself in weeks, months, all the time thinking about it, looking forward to it, and now she could and it was incredible!
She was still tensing in the aftershocks of that first stroke, just the memory of it making her hips buck and shudder unconsciously. She wanted to keep going, God she wanted to, but her hand kept hesitating, her brain apparently unsure if the intensity she had felt had been a bad thing, making her muscles resistant to starting again. Come on, she could do this, she just had to force herself to start, give up control....
She closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, Desyre stood before her, smiling cheekily. Sura felt herself blush automatically. She found herself trying to look down, even though she was already hunched towards the wall. But then, that meant Desyre wasn’t in front of her - Sura imagination adjusted, and now Desyre was kneeling before Sura, her roomate's pale skin glistening in the shower and in the pale the light of her tattoos. White lines curled around her pale shoulders, two narrow bands of white whose subtle glow could only really shine in the dark. The two lines spaced out wider as they curled around lean muscles of Desyre’s shoulders, flowing together again over the straight lines of her collarbones. That part must have hurt. But maybe not as much as when the curving lines were drawn curving down, circling out again under her small, pale breasts. One of each pair of lines descended lower, the other spiralling up and in once towards her the rounded pink shapes of her nipples, the middle part dimpled inwards to leave the shape rounded and mostly smooth. Her ‘little secrets’, she'd called them, as only one who went looking could find them.
Was it normal for roommates to talk about their nipples? Was it normal to have seen her roommates nipples? It was enough of a shock the first time Desyre whipped off her shirt to show Sura the first session of her tattoos, the lines still a little red over her collarbones, and she'd been wearing a bra then. She hadn't the next time.
Sura had wanted to be supportive, and did honestly agree with her roommate about how good the tattoos looked, how the white lines emphasised the curves of her perky breasts, how the final ring around her nipples was indeed perfectly circular and she could tell without getting closer thank you. But Sura had been blushing so hard the whole time, and then she'd had to make a feeble excuse and leave before her erection became all too obvious.
Now Desyre kneeled before her in the shower, Sura's erection very noticeable there. But Desyre was still smiling, unfazed, still wearing that cheeky, lovely smile of hers. Her smiling, pink lips were at the level of Sura's chest, her own breasts much larger than her roommate's, not as perky, her nipples much less secret especially given how hard they were right now. Desyre leaned in closer, Sura's fingers retreating from her breast, reaching out to wet two fingers in the warm shower water. Desyre's mouth moved in closer, her eyes closed, the glistening tip of her tongue extended to make the first touch.
"Naaa," Sura moaned, and again as the tongue circled her hard nipple, flicked once over it, sending a shudder down her spine. Desyre's lips closed in and sucked. Sura buckled forward, her free hand catching herself on the wall, her other hand still squeezing her nipple. "Oh, Desy” she moaned, imaging her roommates mouth there instead, "more please!"
She was answered by another long suck that drew her voice out of her between heavy breaths, "Aaa, maa, aai, want, more, please," her voice embarrassingly high as she let go of the wall, her back shaking the whole time.
She was rewarded with the feeling of Desyre's fingertips shivering down the underside of her shaft. Her voice was still high as it came shivering out of her mouth, all the way down her length as those fingertips travelled to her base, then circled up. Fingers holding, palm cradling her, the hand moved up again, and again, no sooner started than it was thrusting over her.
"Aaaa, aai, aaa, fuck!" She swore, as her nipple was sucked again, "God please more!"
Desyre’s mouth popped free with a final lick, leaving her smiling that cheeky, warm smile up as Sura, as between their breasts was the sight of Desyre hand thrusting on Sura cock. "I'd love to," Desyre smiled, her other hand reaching up to envelop Sura's balls.
"Oh, oh fuck!" she moaned, her back arching in time with the rhythmic pressing against her balls, leaving her hips thrust forward with both her hands touching herself. But it was Desyre’s hands she felt, thrusting her shaft, cupping her balls and pressing just enough pressure to send spasms of joy up her spine, two fingers reaching just a little lower to where Sura’s skin became pink, the fingertips sliding her hood over her aching clitoris, all of it just as she liked it.
"Oh, oh fuck, oh Desy," she moaned, feeling pressure building and churning in her abdomen, building to something imminent. "Oh, God, oh Desy."
"Yes, Sue?"
"Oh, ohs, say you like my cock."
"I love you cock, Sue."
"Say you still like me."
"I love you, my Sue."
"Oh, oh, fu…."
Her breath exploded out of her, her entire body clenching all at once as her orgasm erupted in time with her voice, once, twice, thrice, a fourth spasm lurching her forwards, leaving her hanging with both hands off the wall. Her whole body moved with her breaths, shuddering rhythmically with the aftershocks, still trying to clench more joy out of her.
"Huh, hu, fuck!" It was the only way she could describe it. Her cock was still half hard, but she didn't dare touch it, or do anything but just stare at nothing, trying to comprehend what she'd just felt.
"That was, fuck!" She waited for Desyre to make some comment about her lack of originality.
But Desyre wasn't there.
An insistent vibration came from Sura's wristcomp on the counter. Sura turned to the shower door, took a first unsteady step, took a moment to right herself before walking mostly steadily to the wristcomp. Her wet arm lifted it up to see who was calling.
It was Desyre.
Sura watched the blinking words, and kept watching them all the way until the ringing stopped.
No comments:
Post a Comment