Better Than Caviar

This is a purely erotic fantasy story (18+ only please!)
         Please review if you can. It will be much appreciated. Thanks!
         Christine L.

BETTER THAN CAVIAR

by

C. Laverty

She spotted him, finally.

He was far across the room and yet she could feel his strong presence from where she stood. She was rooted to the floor, visibly shaking from the raw, anxious desire she felt suddenly coursing through her entire body, and she glanced around nervously to see if anyone seemed to notice. She didn’t see any indication that anyone had so she once again turned her full attention to the man across the room.

Sherry ran the palm of her right hand across one side of her neck and slid it slowly back toward the nape and under her long, strawberry tresses. She grasped her soft, warm skin and then ran her hand back down almost teasingly to the top of her silky blouse, caressing the soft spot between the tops of her small, pert breasts with the tips of her index and second fingers, breathing in sharply and shakily as she observed the warm, needy sensations below. Her lower body convulsed ever so slightly, constricting and expanding with yearning. Slightly dampening her black silk panties, Sherry squirmed and kneaded her lithe legs against one another, her mind awash with imaginings of his soft, full lips lingering against hers, his tongue teasing hers...their breaths mingling, becoming one immense hurricane of hunger they shared equally...

Two glasses clinked musically somewhere behind her and she was swiftly brought back to reality. She took a deep breath and mentally pulled herself together, noticing with a start that he was no longer standing within her view. Her long hair danced over her bare shoulders as she swung her head around, searching the room for his presence.

Her trembling lips formed a sweet and lustful smile as her fiery blue eyes found him once again. He was sipping from a glass of red wine and smiling, apparently in response to something one of the men gathered around him was saying.

His perfectly tailored black suit with crisp, white shirt and purple tie stood out against the warm, coppery, marbleized background of the walls directly behind him and his smile was amiable and genuine, traveling directly to his blue eyes and making them sparkle. The intelligence in them shone, and he again aroused in her the aching she’d only just begun to get under control. She had to turn away abruptly in order to gain control over herself; tremors of pure sexual exigence rocked her body from head to toe and she wanted to drop to the floor and melt from the power of it.

Instead, she took a long, deep breath and a sip from the glass of Pinot noir she held very gingerly in her left hand, afraid she might squeeze it too hard and cause it to shatter, shards of broken glass deeply embedding themselves in the soft, moist flesh of her.

Maybe that would be preferable to this intense, sweet agony of a thirst which could not be quenched with all the wine in the world.

Sherry had come alone to this event; she wanted no witnesses to what might be nothing more than an extremely embarrassing moment in her life---the attempt at the seduction of this man she could not get out of her head.

She wasn’t sure just when the attraction had become palpable but she’d been dreaming of him lately, and when she awoke she was most definitely sexually stirred; the excitement of the dreams seemed to stay with her even though she had no idea from where these feelings had stemmed.

She'd been feeling this way for a number of months now and she presently felt an undeniable enchantment and frequently became flushed with the memories of her dreams of this man. Her urges seemed to come from that place deep within which she had carefully hidden away and disabled---that place in which her basest instincts have sovereignty over all else. Having hidden it away in order to function in society, Sherry was uneasy with it sneaking up on her now, allowing her to feel things she’d never expected to feel, much less act upon.

Yet here she stood poised and ready to pounce on her prey, to give in to her baser instincts for the first time she could recall in her true adulthood. She was so drawn to him and so ready to act on this urgent need for him, it was as if she were another woman entirely. This was so unlike her---to not only contemplate, but to pursue a sexual situation with a man other than her long-time boyfriend---that she nearly turned and ran from it all.

But she didn’t; the insistence was too great.

Holding back actually felt wrong somehow.

So she let it happen within. She allowed herself to feel the longing in its purity with the absence of internal judgment or censoring, guilt or consequences.

She felt the difference immediately: her profound arousal now became not only welcome to her, but it was lending her a sense of confidence she generally did not possess, along with a sense of prurient power she found intriguing and extremely stimulating. Sherry drained her glass of wine---which had been nearly full---in a matter of seconds and began to slowly and purposefully make her way toward where this man stood unaware of her imminent advance.

When she was still about ten or twelve feet away from him he slowly turned his head in her direction and his eyes found hers. She nearly froze as a jolt shot through her body, but she quickly recovered. He smiled at her. It was an easy smile, borne of confidence.

Sherry smiled back with a sensuality she now knew had to be in utter evidence and his eyes lingered for a moment on hers. In that moment she saw his recognition of her desire and her eyes said nothing in denial of this.

Her hands were now absently stroking her empty wine glass and she noticed his eyes drop to this subconscious come-on she was perpetrating.

He looked away for a second and she looked down at her hands, smiling to herself, feeling naughty and more excited than she had in years and then he turned back toward her again just as she looked up. He tilted his head, a half-smile playing on his face as he winked and gestured toward the men with whom he’d been conversing and shrugged his shoulders.

Initially, she didn’t understand what he was trying to say, but then her brain again registered sight of the men assembled near him, all of them desperately vying for his attention, and she nodded and smiled with understanding, not showing it, but feeling penetrating disappointment.

Whether he had been merely trying to let her down easily or was being genuinely apologetic regarding his current entanglement with his colleagues he had, in essence, said no to her. She felt a sudden emptiness set in and she looked away before it could show, pretending to suddenly realize that her glass was empty, and turned sharply to her right, heading straight for the bar.

Sherry ordered another glass of Pinot noir and when it arrived in front of her she ambled toward it with her hands, noticing she was actually enjoying the anticipation of that first sip: the first time it hit the back of her tongue, the first time it flowed down her throat with that sensation of warmth she so loved. It occurred to her that she might be sublimating just a bit and she smiled, feeling better.

Her newfound confidence found her once again and she dipped her right forefinger into her wine, swirling it around thoughtfully in the cool, potent liquid for a few seconds before placing the tip on her lips and with her tongue, licking the libation away. The night was yet young.

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She knew he had been separated from his wife for a mere two months and was reportedly only beginning to see other women. This was the perfect time to pounce. Pounce. She laughed to herself. It sounded so animal.

She wasn’t going to let one admittedly unclear and by no means definitive gesture on his part deter her. Perhaps he just needed a bit more prodding. There was only one way to find out.

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As Sherry sat and sipped her wine, lost in thought, the music became louder and less subdued. She’d had two more glasses of Pinot noir in the last hour while she bided her time, all the while keeping watch on him, and if she hadn’t eaten just before the party she’d most likely be too intoxicated for much of anything right now.

In truth, she felt giddy and a bit lightheaded, but in no way incapacitated, nor unready. The music was erotic and cunningly carnal (or perhaps it was just her current state), and as she rubbed her upper thighs together under her long red skirt she felt herself becoming more and more moist. She couldn’t help squirming about on her seat, imagining his head between her legs, his mouth and tongue freely exploring her there, and her breathing became labored as she inwardly moaned with the ecstacy of anticipation.

Sherry licked her lips, bit the lower and let out a frenzied breath ripe with the desperate longing she had finally grown to accept. She ached with it. She so ached with it. Satiate me, she thought. Just take me tonight—just tonight. I won’t want or ask anything beyond that. Just one night of sheer pleasure for us both. Just one, long night...

A sudden shiver ran through her and her body shook with the force of it. He was near; she could actually feel his presence now. She turned her head nonchalantly to her left and there he was.

He was speaking somewhat intimately with a woman who was quite lovely and around her age. The music covered their words, yet Sherry was instantly envious of this woman. Biting her lip, she turned petulantly away from the sordid scene at hand and back to her glass. It was still half full and she began to swirl the deep reddish liquid around and around with one hand as the other descended to her lap and she began to not-quite-unconsciously stroke herself high on her inner thighs through the slit of her skirt, venturing dangerously close to the tropical rainforest between them.

She couldn't help herself; he was so near.

After a moment or two, she decided it might be best if she stood up for a while so she didn’t soak through the back of her skirt, and as she did so she turned again to her left---and he was looking directly at her.

She flushed and smiled a bit self-consciously, swallowed hard, and turned back to her drink sitting on the bar. She nervously grabbed for it, nearly knocking it over and steadied her hand before bringing the glass to her lips, which, she realized she was biting again.

The music faded between songs for a moment and Sherry could hear a few words of his conversation with the young woman, or at least the ending of it. He was saying how nice it was that she had come, and something about having lunch next week sometime to talk over the plans. Out of the corner of her eye Sherry could see him lean in to kiss her on the cheek, and then she felt him advancing toward her...

Oh my God, she thought, what on earth do I say? I’m not ready!
Wait... yes... she was ready. She just needed to breathe---deep breath, deep breath, deep breath---and take a long sip of wine and compose herself.

She again felt the power derived from her intense yearning for him and daringly turned to face him head-on, her heart pounding and her inhalations and exhalations becoming visibly as well as audibly labored.

He looked directly into her eyes with a bemused, yet beguiling expression upon his face, his allure only growing, and Sherry seductively sipped her Pinot noir, licking her lips and feeling the magnetism more absolutely and unmistakably than ever. She quivered and could feel every nerve ending in her body on edge, at attention.

He stepped closer to her and she blushed, not with embarrassment or trepidation, but with expectancy: now that he was this close to her she felt more tense with rapture than with any question about whether or not she would have him if he wanted her, too.

She wondered if he could detect the musky fragrance of her wanting him, if he could feel the live and tangible craving she felt, if he could sense it surrounding her body like a heat shimmer covering a hot road on a sweltering summer day.

Had this chance been created for her? If so, then she dare not mess with fate. It might come back to bite her in the ass if she did, and if she didn’t, then, well... he might. She smiled at the thought.

He was so close now and the scent of his cologne made her feel even more giddy . It seemed to match the muskiness of hers; the only difference was his most likely came out of a bottle and hers...well, it was a little more... natural.

His hand reached one of hers and startled her slightly; it was very warm and surprisingly soft, yet she could feel the firmness of its grasp and it brought her even closer to the edge of ecstacy.

Sherry smiled at him and he let go of her hand. She wasn’t sure what he was doing until he took the glass of wine out of her other hand and put it aside; he then signaled the bartender and ordered two cognacs, first glancing back at her for approval---she nodded yes---and the bartender began pouring.

"You seem like the persistent type. Should I just surrender right now?" he asked, grinning at her, making her wet yet again.

Sherry merely smiled, physically unable to do anything else.

"So, what’s on the table?" he asked, looking at her directly.

"Just tonight," she answered.

He nodded and took a sip of his cognac.

"Why just tonight... if you don’t mind my asking?"

She took a matching sip and responded after a moment, a smile pulling at her lips as she did so.

"Well... frankly, regarding yourself... I don’t believe you truly want any more than that just now."

He seemed just the slightest bit taken aback, but bounced back quickly, laughing, and said, "Well, actually, you may be right about me, but..." There was a minor pause, as if perhaps he was debating whether or not to ask again. Then he spoke, his eyes intent upon hers.

"What about you?"

"What about me?" Sherry asked.

"Why only one night for you?"

Sherry now felt much more courageous and self-assured; she was utterly prepared for his body to be intent upon hers, for his supple lips to be pressed hungrily against hers.

She was in no mood for more talk, so she turned toward the bar and sipped her drink, taking a deep, readying breath and then turned back toward him, her small breasts heaving and falling again beneath her silky blouse. She watched him notice this and then his eyes again met hers. They were saying what she was feeling so she decided against answering and instead, took his hand in hers and with her other, she gently pushed away their two glasses.

Sherry felt more than an increasing anticipation right now; she felt the incredibly urgent and real surging power of wanting him---now---and the whole of her body was crying out for the bittersweet release of this gripping need that had permeated her---mind, body and spirit.

His lopsided, but sexy, boyish grin and returning grasp of her hand suggested he had absorbed and accepted this and, with her eyes, she gestured upward. He took the hint and gripped her hand more forcefully, pulling her arm---along with the rest of her aching body---with him, onward and upward to where she really wanted to be--- alone in a room, inside his arms, with him inside her.

He had already been inside her mind, her dreams, her fantasies; now she wanted him inside her body.

Time was playing tricks on her mind, or was it the other way around? One minute she felt like she was in a movie playing on slow-mo, and the next it was playing on fast-forward and someone else had control of the remote.

Something else was different, too: she was usually so caught up in thinking the life out of things that she often missed the present happenings, the 'now' of events in her life. But despite the time-flow strangeness, she was feeling everything; nothing, not even the slightest detail, was escaping her and it felt wonderful. Now she knew what living in the moment felt like and she wasn’t sure she could ever go back to the way she had been before.

When they reached the elevator doors he pressed the button and then dropped her hand slowly and turned to face her, not saying a word, his eyes relating to her all he wanted to do to her. Sherry returned his gaze, her intentions as clear as his, and they remained this way until the elevator doors opened wide for them.

Once inside, doors closed only a second, he seized her by her shoulders in a forceful, yet sensuous grip and propelled her to the wall. He pressed up against her so that she could feel all of him. And it was so good, feeling all of him. He was stone hard and she could feel his insistence matching hers.

His lips found hers and he kissed her softly at first, but she could sense the hunger building in him. His lips were as supple and silky, and yet as powerful as she’d imagined and he knew how to use them, teasing and pleasing and easing her on until she was both weak and strong with desire. And then, as suddenly as he had pinned her to the wall, he had her own soft lips parted and their tongues entwined in a sultry dance of rapture, and their eager hands exploring each others’ bodies with the intensity of a house on fire.

Sherry heard a small whooshing sound and felt a tiny jolt as the elevator doors glided open again, and they slowly disentangled themselves and gazed dazedly through the portal. The red and gold door across the hall beckoned to them with the promise of passion beyond any she’d ever known.

His hand materialized on the small of her back and they drifted forward toward the place behind this door in which she would discover untapped emotions and desires that lay staid inside her; she would, effectively, be opening her own Pandora’s box of sexual fantasies and desires, unknowing of their power, nor of the consequences they might yield.

Opening the door, he gently guided her inside, closing the door again behind them and leaving the lights off. Then, still standing behind her, he pulled her back against him, hard, and held her tightly. She flushed and moaned just a little as she felt his hand slide from her lower waist around to the front of her body and then move toward the erupting volcano between her legs. Deftly finding the high front slit in her skirt, he eased his hand beneath the soft fabric and taunted her with his fingers playing on the insides of her thighs.

Throwing her head back against his shoulder, Sherry thrust her hips in short little bursts against his hand, begging it without shame to touch her.

When his fingers finally found her, her panties soaked through now, she moaned louder and breathed in sharply, pressing hard against him as he fondled her and quickly discovered her sweet state. He groaned and murmured in her ear and she felt him, solid as stone, on her lower back, responding instinctively to her obvious readiness for him.

Almost immediately, his fingers found their way back to the top of her panties and then he thrust his hand beneath them. Sherry had never felt more alive.

In a second he was plunging his fingers deep inside her and at the same time, pushing the heel of his hand against her pubic bone as he explored the sweet silky wetness of her. Her entire body vibrated and convulsed and her breathing was becoming increasingly shallow; she had never been more intensely excited and electrified in her life than she was right now and she unabashedly reached around behind her back to grasp and stroke the part of him that told her how much he wanted her, too.

He groaned with pleasure and maybe a bit of surprise and before she knew it, he had her turned toward him, her back up to the wall again, and he was kissing her with a fervor she couldn’t have fought even if she had been so inclined. Wedged tightly between his hungry, insistent form and the hard wall, Sherry eagerly returned his ardor, now kissing the side of his face as his lips and tongue caressed her long, taut neck.

At once, he took a deep breath inward and grasped her around the waist, pulling her with him down a short hall toward what she hoped was the bedroom.

It was, and at the threshold he pulled her roughly to him, kissing her softly and sweetly until she was aflame with yearning, and then just as suddenly, he let her go and entered the dark room ahead of her, whispering for her to wait there.

She threw her head back and closed her eyes, her long hair falling lazily down her back, and stood still, obeying him, breathing in the moments as they came, awash in the sensations surrounding her.

She heard some rustling and then the soothing sounds of the blues washed over her. Her body began to sway with the subtle, sensual rhythm and Sherry actually became lost in the moment, her mind and libido on autopilot, running only on instinct. She remained this way for an unknown measure of time, simply taking it all in, making all of it hers.

She opened her eyes and saw with delight the room now aglow with the tiny flames of candles carefully placed throughout the room; they flickered and danced, mirroring her own heated agitation, throwing shadows and soft, warm light over the room and over the both of them. She could clearly detect the scents of musk and jasmine and something else she couldn’t name, but was all the same pleasingly familiar, flowing in the warm air everywhere around them.

Sherry closed her eyes again as he made his way over to where she stood; she was helpless with her need for him now, indulging her revelry in the ambience he had so deftly created for them. It made her want him even more, if that was possible.

He was upon her, his mouth, his hands, his body, and Sherry relented and gave in completely to her deepest needs and nature; if she had been holding back at all before, she wasn’t anymore.

He was nuzzling her neck now, and she was lost in him. Her eyes were closed, her head tossed to one side as he began to move his hands over her body and she felt his mouth steadily descending toward her taut pink nipples as he unbuttoned her blouse with a taunting, tantalizing leisure. She could sense he knew what it was doing to her and he reveled in that power. She wasn’t bothered by it; on the contrary, she was enjoying the exchange of power between them. It was exciting and new and she had never felt anything like it.

His tongue was now warm and wet on the waiting flesh of her breasts, working its way inward now on her right breast, his tongue finding her rock-hard nipple, flicking it, circling it until she thought she would lose her composure entirely. Suck on it, she said inside herself, and he did.

She plunged her body against his, her hands cradling his head, pressing it into her breasts with a violence which almost scared her... but not enough.

Gently, he bit and suckled and teased, his warm wet tongue tracing little circles on her breasts until she was raging with the desperate need to have his tongue defiling her elsewhere.

She grasped his back beneath his jacket with both hands, squeezing and kneading and pleading for his mouth to continue its travel to the tropical Zion below where she was throbbing and swollen and freshly saturating her panties for him. She couldn't remember ever wanting and needing like this in her life; her body was betraying everything she was feeling---and she didn't care. The only thing she cared about was having him exactly where she wanted---no, needed---him at this moment. She was no longer thinking; she was feeling.

The language of her writhing body was clear and he began to take his kisses in the direction she’d divined. Sherry allowed this movement of his body to drift down through her hands now as he descended toward the heart of her trembling body. As he fell to her lower belly, licking and nipping at her, she found her hands now grasping his head even more tightly, stroking him and guiding him ever lower.

His hands held tight the cheeks of her firm ass, and now he moved one of them around her body to the front of her skirt, feverishly finding the slit again and reaching beneath to fondle her from the outside of her soaking panties. This mere feathering touch brought her nearly to orgasm and she thrust hard against him, unable to control in any way the instinctual answer to his questing caress of her.

She wasn’t sure she had the strength to stand much longer, yet she longed for his head between her legs like lungs long for oxygen, and she pressed herself against him as long, insistent moans escaped her.

She felt a slight tugging and then her skirt was falling to her feet. She shuddered at its wake and at the wantonness of herself as the silky soft fabric grazed her long, quivering legs and languished around her ankles, ever more heightening her agitated, animalistic state.

Her eyes closed, Sherry felt his hands coaxing her legs apart and then ripping her panties from her body in one swift movement. And then, finally, one shuddering breath later, his mouth was upon her, its warmth and wetness matching and mingling with hers.

Her body pulsed and moved with the seductive sounds of the music and the sweetness of him gripping, touching, licking and kissing her. She was aroused in a way she had never been before; he was bringing out tendencies in her she had only before let out in the safe, private recesses of her imagination. She purred and murmured, swayed and quivered, and the very last of any reservations she might have had quietly crept away, leaving her as a wild as a cat in heat.

All at once he began to move his lips upward toward her breasts again and then he stood before her, disheveled, panting, and as unwilling and unable as she to hide the incredible desire now fully swelling within. The power of him and of the need she had for him overwhelmed her and she found her hungry mouth lunging for his in a fevered, frenzied fog of pure lust.

He responded in kind and began to pull her backwards to the looming and ready bed behind them, his mouth working hers roughly and deeply until their entwined bodies hit the edge of the bed and the immutable laws of motion and gravity worked their magic.

Falling onto the large bed, they both quickly realized that their clothing was impeding their impending coupling, and, kneeling on the bed, they took turns relieving each other of their garments, all the while telling each other with eyes alone of all the pleasures they would soon prove together...

Now nude, bathed in flickering, honeyed candlelight and embraced by the sensuous, savory aromas and the sultry, mellifluous music all around them, they fell again onto the bed together, becoming once more unchastely entangled.

His full lips were again upon hers. They felt warm and wet and inflamed. Sherry lightly licked them, bit them. He kissed and nibbled at hers, and at the corners of her mouth, at her cheek, at her neck. Then she felt his fiery breath at her ear, while at the same moment she felt his hand first caressing, then stroking her breast, pinching her nipple, massaging the willing flesh with a ferocity and yet, a gentleness which sent new, raw electrical currents coursing through her body.

She reached for him between the heated, moist skin of their clinging bodies and found him blazing and throbbing and so hard she actually swooned, losing her bearings momentarily, and would have once more soaked her panties entirely had she still been wearing them. He groaned at her touch and seemed to sense the sudden newly warm wetness between her legs; his body moved over hers to lay at her left side and his hand traveled intently from her breasts down to her exposed and waiting nave.

His thumb expertly kneaded wide circles in the flesh over her pubis while his fingers explored and implored inside her, luxuriating in her juices, whispering in her ear of his appreciation. He was breathing heavier and more deeply and he began to thrust his fingers inside her, at first somewhat tentatively, slowly, and then gradually he began to increase in speed and force, sending Sherry into spasms of sweet satisfaction. She matched his every thrust with her hips, moaning aloud and unselfconsciously, allowing instinct to take her over entirely. She had never felt both so oppressed and so freed by passion, and suddenly all she wanted was to have him hard and deep inside her, fucking her soundly while she fucked him soundly back, their sweat-covered bodies slamming together in the timeless rhythm of the ages.

"I have to... fuck you... now," he breathed in her ear.

"Yes... take me... have me...now..." she responded in a hoarse whisper.

Almost before she had spoken the words, he was inside her, pressing into her with an urgency and vulnerability she found as exhilarating and exciting as the power and control he publicly exuded.

She had him inside her, deep inside her, and he was plunging into her now, faster and faster, and they were locked together in the desperate throes of their ecstacy, gripping and scratching, clawing and squeezing, biting and licking, each allowing nothing but these sensations to penetrate the carnal cocoon in which they had become voluntarily bound.

After some time, Sherry sensed a change in his rhythm and breathing and knew he was nearly ready to come---so was she, but she held back---and she dug her nails into his lower back and whispered seductively to him that she wanted him to come all over her tummy and breasts so she could revel in his juices the way he had in hers.

Her revelation put him over the edge and he groaned and pulled out of her, holding himself and pressing against her as he spurted all over her in hot, wet, sticky strands. They convulsed almost as one, their bodies insistent on connecting, sharing every pleasure mutually and completely through a sort of sensual osmosis Sherry had only begun to realize existed. They clung together as if for life and Sherry wanted to cry from the wellspring of sexual emotions this elicited in her; she hadn’t wanted and needed---or been wanted and needed---so primally and instinctually and all-fired fully ever before in her life and she reeled with the heaviness of what she was feeling, knowing that it was merely temporary and that she wouldn’t walk this particular path again after this night. Not that she had any regrets or illusions; she simply wanted this night to go on forever... at least in her imagination...

He was again at her neck, his lips feathering, tongue tracing, breath warming. Sherry turned her head to taste his lips, lingering for a moment, gently biting, inviting, and then brought her mouth to his ear, tickling and nibbling, tongue probing and suggesting.

He got it. They were fully in tune with each other.

As his body moved down hers, his mouth licking and nipping at her all along the way, she shuddered and held his head as it steadily approached her nirvana, encouraging but not forcing him down... down... down...

She felt his hot breath and the stubble of his newly growing beard against the insides of her thighs as he finally brought his tongue to her swollen, saturated, satiny lips.

At first touch, she shuddered again as he began to taste her fully, sucking and stroking her with his knowing tongue and manipulating her with his fingers. She began to notice little tendrils of pleasure gathering themselves together deep inside her, mounting in intensity and focus, rendering her wholly unable to feel anything else in her body. The sensation intensified and expanded inside her as he essentially fucked her with his mouth and fingers and as she let her hand join him in this, feeling the pressure of his against hers, feeling the warm silken moisture they’d together created, their fingers working her in tandem, and she began to let herself go...

She was just about to break...

Yet she pulled back within, letting the pressure run and be reigned, ebb and flow, nearly be released then be constrained, until she was no longer able to dam it.

She came hard, bucking at every wave, crying out and holding his face against her as he rode the waves with her, his tongue still playing her as she bathed him in the near torrential rainstorm flowing from within her.

As this most exquisite, blissful pleasure began to mellow in her, Sherry slowly opened her eyes, reluctant to be released from the state in which she was now residing yet knowing it had to end sooner or later, no matter how amazing it may have been to be there...

He was still between her legs, his head still buried in her, his mouth yet searching her out, lapping up every drop of her juices and hungrily thirsting for more. She watched him for a moment and found herself beginning to move and sway, her hips lifting and her muscles contracting. Her breathing, which had begun to return to a normal rate, was again becoming agitated and labored, and she lay back on the pillow and closed her eyes.

He, responding to the changes in her movements and knowing he was going to make her come again, began to finger her once more, his lips and tongue more and more insistent upon her as his fingers moved inside her, pulling her, coaxing her, demanding from her another sweet release he knew she wouldn’t be able to deny herself, nor him, for very long...

Sherry began to push herself hard against him again, violent little thrusts rocking her entire body as swells of blue fire danced and flowed inside her, rolling and building within her until she knew she couldn’t hold them back anymore.

"Oh... my god," Sherry cried out, her voice a breathy, guttural, animal sound she barely recognized as her own. She pressed her thighs together around his head as she came again, those waves of unimaginable pleasure and indulgence rising high, dancing in the air, and then crashing down toward the shore once more until she was spent beyond spent and shaking throughout.

Moaning and purring, he cleaned her like a cat and then began to move upward toward her, slowly licking and gently biting her warm, moist flesh all along her body until he reached her lips. He kissed her softly, teasingly, his heated breath musky with her, and she could taste herself on his lips. Biting his lower lip, Sherry pressed her lips against his and their mouths and bodies melded together in a raging, fiery embrace.

After a few moments, he pulled away from her lips and began to kiss her tenderly about the face, moving to her neck and then to her ear, nibbling and caressing and whispering, over and over again, "Better than caviar... you taste better than caviar..." and soon their bodies were one again, moving in time, giving and taking, each still hungry for more...

**********************

Awakening, eyes still closed, Sherry rolled over in bed and began to recall the events of the previous night. Smiling to herself, she casually reached over to the other side of the bed...

It was empty. He was gone.

Just another dream, Sherry thought, and sighed, her eyes closing again.

Her eyes flew open again. She looked around.

This was not her bedroom. This was a hotel room.

The hotel room. It had actually happened!
Her eyes turned to the pillow next to hers. There was a note lying on it. She picked it up and read it aloud.

"...Better than caviar... R"

Sherry smiled, allowing her mind to linger for a moment, and then showered and dressed, her mind already formulating her little white lie as to where she had been all night long...

~THE END~

approx. 6200 word count