The following story was submitted in our recent Sensual Story Writing contest
“Sensual Stories to Turn On To”
For your reading pleasure, we present the 3rd runner up:
It wasn’t always her feeling that prompted her response to him as he looked across the room with the promise of something-something-what was it-ah, the promise of knowing her. Seeing her movement towards him and welcoming it as if she was both unexpected, and quiet at home with his gaze and his arm as he stretched out to touch her.
The date had been planned; they were to meet at this hour at this inn by the ocean even on this rainy spring day. Thunder rolled rousing but not threatening anything other than the promise of more rain in its tender drops that lit up the grass as light came through the clouds. Rolling in the grass was a fleeting thought she had but then, now he was taking her to a soft leather divan in the back of the reception area lit well showing the heavy and dark oak that filled the room. She heard that Eleanor and Franklin had come down to this Inn in North Carolina in their day, and also F Scott Fitzgerald in his waning post-publication stage. The luscious mountain hills visible from all the huge windows that surrounded the Inn seemed to fill her chest pushing out breath in a squeeze of delight. She moved her body closer to his – noting that that contact filled her eyes and her heart with the sensation that came when they first brought their bodies together a decade ago.
He leaned in closer and passed a crystal glass full of rich satin red liquid, then brought his glass to hers:
Each laugh released and yet increased the sensation of wanting to be closer, even as she felt his cool hand on her inside thigh just above her knee. Her skin meeting his spread the warm sensation up her thigh and a rush of heat filled her. They spoke now of the room upstairs waiting for them. #203-the room they first experienced the hours of making love time without end it seemed at the time. The rush into each other’s arms that time had led to a place always available for exploration between them. They didn’t quite know each time they met how it would be where they would take each other in rapture and delight, just that they would.
He had ordered ahead and soon a table prepared for them would welcome them. He took note of the fact that they had both arrived two hours earlier than expected, so they decided to have their order brought to their room. Oysters, a variety of cheeses, olives would hold them over they decided until hours later. After. After time upstairs when they could relish in delight, find the home they shared in bed, and begin again to find their way to each other, knowing trusting they would meet.
#203’s room door opened to a patio facing the patio where sometimes there was dancing, but now the sun was retreating even as it had spread light just before disappearing again into the night sky disappearing surrounding hills and mountains. Moving across the room, their bags left at the door, they sat seeing and feeling the tension between them as an exotic fruit-to be taken and explored, tasted and consumed. The kiss that brought for her the bright lights behind the darkness of her lids, the stirring of her want, her desire that now she experienced in the weight of her breasts, and the juiciness of her lips of her pussy.
Her skirt had come up to reveal the red panties, his hands were engaged in finding the skin beneath the panties now moist and warm and receptive to him.
Her hands touched the back of his neck above his shirt collar, somehow so tender, so vulnerable, so exposed even as she felt the power of his body pressing her down. His sweater easily came over his head then as she wanted to feel his chest on hers-feeling like this abandonment first experienced so long ago to all that filled all of her body with anticipation. Having removed the red panties, now he let her feel his warm and full cock on her thigh as he took pleasure in feeling the lips of her labia, pressing the lips to expose her crown, her clitoris ready for him, as if he had never left. It was as if, each stroke filled her whole body filling it with light, and joy and pleasure.
Her hand reached for his cock feeling now the demand of her touch on him by the reception she received in her stroking up,
feeling in the palm of her hand, the silk, and the power as he moved and thrust himself leading her hand to the head of his cock. His moans, her moans became a chorus, a song that had a sense of going somewhere even as this moment was not be forgotten ever. To feel both in surrender and engaged in this exploration of letting the body lead, the clitoris endlessly bringing waves of pleasure in harmony with the gratification of feeling her effect on him, on his hard and full cock.
At this point, he reached for water-gave her a sip, took one himself, then reached again for the delightful exchange they had begun. Where they would end was nowhere in sight, and that made it all the more the gift from God orgasm always seemed to be for her. That point where every cell is renewed as sensation breaks and takes you further and wider – as one response to all that we leave behind in the state of orgasming – no body, no form, no time, neither future or past. Orgasm just IS and totally fills completely and absolutely all that you are. She felt it already, she saw it in his eyes and felt it in his back as she pressed his flesh.
That would be where they would go, but there was no rush. Later, there were miles and miles to go – each place a stop in which they brought more of themselves to each other. They would cruise together finding new places, new sensations, new joy that would be theirs forever. This was their time.