Advance apologies for the next three prompts. I fell behind so needed to write four today and it just turned out that they all kind worked for sexy times… so an extended sex scene it is. This one is a direct continuation of yesterday’s.
Write about high tide
Connor stepped across the threshold into the pleasure suite as self-conscious as a gangly teenaged boy. Stella sensing his awkwardness, went straight to the built in liquor cabinet and poured three fingers of scotch into a tumbler. She handed the amber elixir to him and turned to fill her own glass.
She had brought him to the aboriginal suite. Just had decorated this one with furs, and fertility statues, and dangling charms designed to influence the course of pleasure. Instead of a bed there was a platform layered in mink and sable. The chairs were rustic carved wood. The lamps held amber glass, tinting the room with soft golden light. On cold nights, a fire would burn in a circular enclosure in the floor, safely kept behind glass, providing the perfect ambiance. There was no need for a fire this afternoon, however.
“Slainte!” Stella said calling his attention back to her. She lifted her glass in salute and then lowered it to her lips. Her throat flexed as she swallowed and Connor’s eyes followed the movement downward until they rested on her full breasts.
Quickly swallowing his own scotch, Connor set the glass aside and reached to pull the girl against his chest. Indecision melted away under the thrust of his desire and the knowledge that Stella wanted him as much if not more.
Once he admitted his desire, the tide rose to an incredible pitch. His erection strained against the buttons of his fly, eager to be loosed. He buried his hands in her luxurious hair, wrapping his fingers around her skull and turning her head to lower his mouth on hers. She tasted of scotch and caramel as she returned his kiss, flicking her tongue across his lips to gently meet his own.
Connor groaned into her. He had been unaware how much he needed this contact; sealed off from his own desire. When Kitten had been on board, he had outlets to pour his energies. Ways of releasing or sublimating his physical needs so that he could ignore the calls of the flesh and concentrate his attentions on his daughter. That had been well and good, but since he had sent her to boarding school, fatherly duties no longer stood between the man and his carnal desires.
Stella’s hands were at work on the buttons of his shirt. She undid the last one and pulled the shirttails free, sliding the sweat-soaked cloth off his shoulders to land in a heap at their feet. The cool softness of her hands on his chest sent stabs of electric energy radiating up and down his torso. He disentangled his hands from the thicket of her curls and took hold of the collar of her shift, resting between her shoulder blades. The fabric tore easily, opening up along her spine and cascading to join his shirt at their feet. He swept her into his arms and took the three steps necessary to mount the platform and lay her onto the furs.
She reclined in comfort, letting his gaze rove freely over her body. Every hair on her body was blonde, and in the amber light glowed like molten gold.
To be cont…