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Summer Heat – Part Five

22 September, 2012

I’ve kept you waiting long enough – here is the latest instalment of Summer Heat. Click here to read Jessica and Toby’s story so far.

Summer Heat – Part Five


He stepped back from her, and reached for her hands. She released her grip on his satisfied and withdrawing shaft, and stood. His eyes roamed across her, captivated by her slender body, the shining evidence of his climax across her rounded breasts, her nipples teased to hard peaks. His eyes ventured lower to where her keen hands had tugged open the button of jeans. “Bedroom,” he said in a husky whisper and, picking up his phone from the worktop and leading her along the hallway.

The bedroom was dominated by his double bed, the duvet she recognised from his pictures was rucked, dishevelled from his stimulating photo shoot. They stood at the side of the bed, he kissed her hungrily before guiding her to sit. He lifted his phone, directing towards her. “Can I have a picture now?” he asked. At the word picture, her mind filled with images of him posing for his own pictures, his cock rising, that same hard length she had brought to release with her mouth. She felt a jolt of passion, her thighs clenching as more of that slick, sweet honey flowed from inside her, moistened her thighs, her jeans, still more. She slid a finger into her mouth, sucked at it coquettishly as she smiled an innocent but cheeky grin. “That’s so hot,” he told her, his camera flashing. She changed hands, changed position, smiled more for him as the camera captured more images of her.

“Now touch yourself,” he instructed, and her hands found their way to her cum-covered breasts, grabbing, squeezing, playing, caressing. The flashes continued, and Jessica was back outside now, feeling the electricity of the storm spark through her once more. The thrill of the moment overtook her, she was only distantly aware of his begged instructions to watch her undress, but she followed them, lay down on the bed, slid her zip down, tugged the denim open, shuffled her hips and thighs as he helped her jeans to her feet, to the floor.

At his whispered insistence, her fingers found their way down her body and rested between her thighs where her dripping arousal awaited them. The first touch on her firm, desperate clit brought a gasp of passion from her, a gasp which elongated into a cry as she drew light circles with her fingers, their movement becoming faster, stronger, harder. “That’s right,” she heard a far off voice whisper, and she dipped inside her slick channel, each thrust of her hand replied by a tightening grip of her muscles. Her back arched, and she sensed that the flashes of light had become a constant gleam. She opened her eyes, and his smirk answered her. He was recording video now, but her gaze was taken not by the light on his phone, but by his taught body which she imagined on her, in her. She watched his lightly-defined abs as they rippled with each breath, saw his hand was stroking at his cock, enticing it to erection once more.

She spread her legs, easing her lips wide with one hand as the fingers of the other delved inside her again, stroking the velvet softness of her core, exploring with an intensity she had never felt before. He climbed onto the bed in front of her, and as she let a moan fall from her, tossed her head to one side, closed her eyes as the desperation for her impending release gathered, he brought the camera close to her hands, to her glistening lips, before swooping along the length of her naked, arching body to rest on her mouth, her teeth biting at her lip.

“Come for me, beautiful,” he begged. As if she needed to be asked. Her frantic fingers pumped harder, each pleading thrust inching her closer to the climax she ached for. She felt his hand on her thigh, touching and stroking, the passionate heat which had been pinpointed on her straining clit was now spreading wider as his fingers massaged her with increasing strength. She could feel his quickening breaths through clenched teeth, knew that he was stroking himself with the same intensity he was bringing to her, and her eyes flashed open to see the longing in his eyes.

“Fuck me,” she pleaded, her desperate tone revealing her ache to be taken by the muscular body luxuriating in her arousal. Her ache to feel the warm hardness of manhood inside her after so long knowing only her own fingers. The camera phone was dropped, ignored, on the bed as he gently pulled her legs further open and lay between them. Her hand ceased its exploration to take his now solid shaft and guide him easily into her.

She ran her hands across his chest above her, supported by his strong arms, and as his hips bucked in frantic thrusts, she stroked his nipples, his abs, his navel, brushed her fingers through his neatly clipped curls, before resting on her clit once more, pleading at it agonisingly for the release she knew was so close now.

The climax his mouth had drawn from was so recent she could still feel it, still smell it on her, but such was the passion she aroused in him, his cries quickly grew higher, more imploring, and he paused, he tensed as he arrived at the crest of his climax, at the very cliff edge. She felt the force of her own release building before the waves of pleasure, the electric shocks of carnal satisfaction engulfed her. And as she called out with the relief of sated passion, she felt the bursts of his orgasm, the force of his cum inside her.

He dropped down from his arms, and she felt the full weight of him, the wonderful strength of him on her as they kissed passionately, deeply, warmly, before holding each other in welcoming, trusting arms.

  1. TheOthers1 permalink

    Honey. That has to be my favorite thing to call female arousal. Does it end here or will there be more?

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