Another section of the first in the series, as originally written. Ten disagrees with the original aim; she wants the stories to be 'proper' thrillers, but with the erotica left in. Will it work? Should I remove it? Should I write an 'improper' series too? Or should I just do the smut? Opinions?
So where were we? Ah yes, about to start shagging in the sunshine in the kitchen of Ten’s penthouse flat in London overlooking the Thames.
You may think sitting stark naked in front of the window right in the heart or the metropolis as being a bit out there, but we weren’t being particularly exhibitionist. We may be a bit free and easy at times but I assure you that doing it in the public gaze holds little appeal for either of us. No, despite the floor length windows its pretty private up here on the eighth floor; The penthouse is set back so the angle is all wrong for anyone on the street below to see what is going on, then the flat overlooks Middle Temple Park, then the Victoria Embankment, then the Thames, so the nearest windows facing are right over the other side of the river.
We’re far enough downstream from the London Eye that the angle is all wrong from there too, ditto The Shard, though it’s a fair bit further away so they’d need binoculars. Besides anyone renting the ludicrously priced office space in that monstrosity is going to be far too up themselves to have any interest in what we are getting up to.
No, about the only building in with an outside chance, and equipped with the telescopes and polarizers necessary to cut through the sky image reflected in the slightly silvered glass, is going to be the big white MI6 mausoleum across the river. So much of their task has to be depressing and thankless that we don’t overly mind if they occasionally brighten their dull days with the odd peek. Go ahead Q, grab yourself an eyeful! Just no little drones popping over for a closer look OK.
Oh, and there are the helicopters too of course. They have a good angle usually, slightly above our level, and they appear without warning at odd times of day. I guess the businessmen and politicians riding in them have nothing better to do than stare out of the windows, but one hopes the pilots are looking where they are going and not scanning the banks for titillation. Yes, yes, I know what you are thinking, but that wasn’t us. Honest. It was a fair bit upriver towards Battersea and foggy as hell that day anyhow.
Right at that moment I wouldn’t have cared if a Chinook full of marines with binoculars had turned up and hovered outside. To be honest I probably wouldn’t have even noticed.
No, nothing concentrates my mind on the one thing in front of me more than finding said one thing is Tennyson Viterbi. Add to that the effect of her lips embracing mine, her tongue sliding tonsilward between my teeth and her arms pulling my chest against her heaving 38Cs and I’m sure you’d agree that I could be forgiven for tuning to that one channel only and chucking the remote control down the back of the sofa, as it were.
I got down from my barstool. It was that or fall off, wouldn’t have been the first time. Ten spun her stool by a hundred and eighty degrees, pushed her hips against mine and leaned back against the breakfast bar. Strong arms around me ensured I moved with her. Legs spread wide, and feet grasping my buttocks left no doubt of what was required of my nether regions.
Warm dampness surrounded me. The soft and gentle grip around my penis went a good way towards easing the discomfort of internal pressure, the glorious wet sensation of penetration did the rest, and the spiking levels of serotonin ensured I lost track not only of the Thames, the Chinook and the flat around us, but also of all the parts of my body not in intimate contact with Ten at the time.
These are the moments that truly make life worth living, when the world goes away for a while and the sphere of consciousness shrinks right down to the here and now.
There is no day or night there, no hot or cold, no sight or hearing. Just lips on lips, chest on chest, hands on whatever flesh they can find, and dick and fanny doing exactly what they were designed for.
We started slowly. All the way in, then pause, no rush. Then all the way out, lay glans against clitoris and rub together. Ten gasped, and pulled hard with her feet to force me back inside. I wouldn’t, but rubbed the length of my shaft up and down again, and again, and again. She heaved with her hips, this time I gave in and pushed back inside. She was tightening perceptibly, but plenty of time to go and I was in no rush. All the way in and hold, hold, hold, then out and back in. Hold again, and again, then out and in again.
She let go of my lips, laid her head back to the surface, arched her back, and moaned.
Deprived of their amusement my lips had nothing to do for a moment, but as we slid together, her arms still pulling me powerfully down, her breasts came within their sphere of influence. I licked her cleavage, then looped my tongue around the underside of her right breast and captured the whole thing in my mouth, nipple towards the back of my throat. Suck, gentle but firm. Another moan, hands now at the back of my head pulling me down onto the breast. I thrust again, paused, then again, and again, sucking gentle to hard in time. Another moan, a little higher pitched this time, and by now her breathing was deep and fast. I licked upwards across her nipple, hard as a pencil rubber now, using my whole tongue from base to tip, then sucked the whole breast in to reset and repeat, and again, and again. Each time I thrust with my hips in time. Another moan, higher again.
Not wanting it to feel left out I moved over to the left breast and gave it pretty much the same treatment, thrusting in time again, now holding the right nipple between thumb and forefinger and rubbing and squeezing that in time too.
Down below Ten was tightening more now, though still quite a way from orgasm by the feel of it. Good; she’d kept me on the boil for ages, time to repay like for like.
A last long lick around the undersides of both breasts, then tongue moving down, and down. I pulled out slowly, then rubbing my whole body over her groin as I moved, down and down again.
I reached her belly button and inserted my tongue briefly. She wriggled and squeaked a bit, I think it tickled more than anything else so I didn’t repeat it. Back to the downward motion again.
Now she was rising up to meet me. I placed my palms against her inner thighs and pressed firmly up and out. Kneeling on the floor now I regarded her wet pussy with interest and considered my next move.
Lick, or suck?
I plumped for a bit of both, and inserted my tongue as far as it would go into her gaping vagina. Another moan, higher again, ‘squeal’ might be a better word. Lick, lick, lick. Then emerge and lick upwards to the clitoris nestling in its folds of skin and lick, lick, then suck, drawing it into my mouth.
Definitely ‘squeal’ this time, and Ten’s breathing had become fast enough to count as panting.
I decided to stick with this for a bit, and opening my mouth as wide as I could without breaking the suction I drew her clitoris in as deep as I could, then draw, release, draw, release.
Taking control of her legs, Ten wrapped her arms behind her knees and pulled then up and out harder than I had dared. This usefully freed my hands, and I seized the opportunity to slide my right up past my chin and insert one, then two then three fingers as deep as they would go.
Squeal, bordering on ‘scream’ this time.
I kept at it, working my fingers in time with my mouth. I could feel her vagina tightening strongly now, and the three fingers in line were forced together into a triangle. Draw, release, draw, release, faster now, every other set eliciting another scream, higher and higher. It was getting pretty tight for the fingers now, but I kept them there.
Reaching down with my left I grasped my own sexual organ for once and, in time with my other activity, made sure it was up to speed, hard as need, and ‘au point’ as the French say. Nothing lacking there, I was pretty much fit to burst already.
Coming up off my knees I got ready to move again. I crouched there for another minute or so of suck and thrust, waiting as Ten’s screams became longer and longer until they threatened to join together, separated now only by the brief moment of time needed at the end of one to draw in enough breath to make the next.
Removing my fingers I gave a last long lick encompassing vagina to clitoris, then rose to my feet and pushed my member into place.
Yell, top of her lungs.
I thrust home hard and fast, again, again, again and again.
Her vagina grasping harder and harder she strained her legs back and apart harder still. I was right on the edge now too, and no more able to stop than she. The yells had become a high pitched squeak now, Ten was hardly breathing as every muscle in both our bodied strained towards the same goal. I could feel it as I passed the tipping point, still a little way to go but orgasm was now inevitable and only seconds away. Suddenly a burst of wetness from Ten announced hers was starting. She let out a lung-deep groan and I felt her convulse around me, triggering my response at the same time. I thrust into her as she grabbed and pulled at me again, and again, and again, and again. Then slowing and losing strength bit, by bit, by bit.
Eventually we were done and slowed to a standstill, still breathing hard. Ten pulled my head down and kissed me once more, wrapping her legs around me to keep me in place.
© Marcus Brook 2015