She Laid

She laid, heart beat ringing in her ears, breaths long and slowing, blissful, replete.

He lay beside her, trembling, still feeling the shock waves of their orgasm as they shot through him.

They had battled hard and lost. Will power drained by their combined sexual energy, they had given in to the pangs of passion that had divided them.

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She saw him first on her morning journey to work. They nodded, as if they were old friends, each one feeling the heat behind the others eyes. Even on this first encounter she knew. She felt beyond doubt that they would be more than travellers sharing the same space. So much more.

She watched him as their journey wound its way along. The hands – heavy, dark hands that looked as though they would hold her full body with care, his fingers long and deft as they turned the pages of his book. She wondered if he could feel her gaze as she watched him and decided that maybe not, not yet anyhow. Her eyes scanned his face every line in an effort to read its secrets. Their eyes met briefly again, like darts shot through the air their gaze met, and quickly moved away.

Her tongue traced her own lips as she watched him drinking his coffee. Deep in her breast the smallest murmur of arousal stirred and she quickly dropped her eyes back down to her own book.

The train slowed, her heart jumped a beat. As she stood to disembark he also stood. With his back to her in the queue she could smell him, her senses jangling at the closeness of his body. It was exquisite agony, to stand there, drawing in his aroma with every breath, being so near to him. His broad back a hairs breadth away from her breast, her nipples could stand no more and hardened, showing for all her arousal.

She instinctively drew her jacket around her, knowing that her secret was visible. His shoulders somehow seemed so much wider as he stood close, strong and capable. In her minds eye she saw him leaning over her, carrying his weight on those shoulders, kissing her. The train jerked to a halt, and shot her mind back to the queue in front of her, now once again caught in the bustle of her journey she saw him disappear into the distance, his long stride carrying him swiftly away from her.

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She rose and performed her ablutions with care. Another day, much like all the others as she made ready for work, ate here breakfast in haste and ran to catch her train.

Her heart quickened again, would he be there this morning, would here senses receive the treat they had the previous day? She boarded the train with some trepidation, and sat in the same place as she had done every morning for the last nine months.

His stop.

He was there.

She gasped quietly as she cast her eyes over his body. It would be a good day today she decided and settled into the seat. He sat down in the seat in front of her. Oh lord, her nostrils filled with his scent, scrambling her emotions and her senses again. Had he noticed her she wondered?

As the thought formed in her mind it was almost as if he had heard it – he turned and looked into her eyes, a deep lingering look. She sat transfixed in the spell of the moment, drinking into his soul, as he bared it in his eyes. Neither one spoke, it wasn’t needed. They both felt the effect of that look. Both felt the stirring in their bodies as the chemistry began to work its forbidden magic. In that moment he knew it too. He knew that he wanted this woman, and he wanted her now. He wanted to feel her smooth skin against his face, her flesh under his hand. They sat, locked in each others eyes, until the train jolted them back to reality as it stopped.

Their eyes parted, the moment gone. They both rose to get out of the train, and as they moved, their hands touched - electric! The shock ripped through them both, shaking them visibly. Both wondered if the other had felt it too, but in their eyes they found the reply – they drank in the feeling of somehow knowing what they were about to do and communicating it without words.

He took her hand, gently in his, and kissed it, softly, lingering more than a gentleman should, but not more than she wanted him to. He led her from the train, and turned to face her again. As they stood there on the platform they were oblivious to the milling of the other travellers. They knew only one another.

She was gasping for breath, feeling overcome by the tenderness of his touch, knowing that she wanted so much more! Her breast rising and falling in time with his breath, knowing that if he held her for much longer, she would have no control over her desires, she could feel her body giving in, offering her up to him, the petals of her lips pursed to receive his, ohhh, how she held back her whimper as he took her lips and made them his. He kissed her long, slowly and with great mastery. He was an artisan.

She didn’t know how long they had been in that embrace. As they drew away from each other the brand of electricity between them hit again, as their eyes found their targets again. Locked in, held so tightly in his eyes, her every cell alert and wanting him to kiss her again. He took her hand again, this time leading her out of the station.

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They walked into the reception area where he spoke quietly to the booking clerk. A key was handed over and he led her to the room.

He threw his bag onto the floor and took her by the waist, holding her gently. Standing a little apart from her he slipped her jacket from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor behind her. She looked into the pools of his eyes, they were dark now, filled with aching want, and commanding her breath to quicken. He stepped closer to her and softly lifted her chin to meet him. He took her lips again, this time more slowly, and she yielded, bit by bit into his arms again. Softly and carefully he kissed her, finding her tongue and entwining it with his. It was more than he could bear. His passion was about to erupt and he needed her. She was drowning in his touch, every inch of her skin was burning, with rivulets of perspiration running down her back, and her cleavage. She wanted him to take her, to invade her very being, to plunder.

He began to undo her blouse, treating each of the small pearl buttons with reverence. She had expected him to rip it from her body but instead he was gentle and deliberate, taking his time, enjoying every moment. As her top fell down to the floor, she let a moan loose, a sweet low sound, that made every hair on his back stand on end.

He knew she wanted him, but he was going to make it last. It might never happen again, and he was damned if he would let one moment of it be wasted. He ran his hands along her collarbone, barely touching her, teasing the minute hairs of her skin with his delicate touch. She pulled her head back, raising her chin high, extending her throat up to him. It was a divine sight, one he could not resist. He bent his head to her and kissed her neck to the tune of her groan, from the tip of her chin down to her breast.

He tasted the salty sweat on her skin, lapping it as he moved ever closer to her nipples. His quick hand moved behind her and released her breasts from their lace captors, throwing her bra away with one slick action. His prize was there. Her nipples hard and urging him to suckle at their glory. She gasped as he cupped her breast with his large, firm hand and placed his lips around the jewel at their tip. He suckled at her nipples each one tasting as sweetly as the other, each one sending shock waves thought her body and into her mind, as he fondled the delightful hardness of them in his mouth.

His attention turned to her waistband, where he quickly found the catch, and released it letting her skirt fall the way of her other garments. This time it was for him to let out a deep moan as his hands felt the top of her stocking. Her thighs were throbbing in anticipation of his touch. He searched for the strip of fabric at the waist of her panties, fingers probing, but finding none. Realisation came to him in the haze of his mind – Lord help him, she wasn’t wearing any!

He stepped back, holding her hands almost afraid to let go of them, he surveyed the fruits of his labours – she was more beautiful than he could have ever predicted. She stood, knowing that every inch of her was driving him crazy. It was evident in the bulge of his manhood, straining at his fly to be unleashed.

Her full pendulous breasts were sparkling with perspiration, the soft mound of her stomach heaving with the passion of the moment. Her long legs and thighs wrapped in the silk of her stockings, surpassed only by the sight of her carefully trimmed mons.

She moved towards him, breaking his stare. It was her turn now to remove each of his garments, peeling away the cloth that was attempting to contain his ardour. His jacket shrugged swiftly from his broad shoulders landed with a bump on the floor behind him. She fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, unable to co-ordinate her fingers to negotiate them. His hands, strong and sure, took over for her and released the ones remaining. Her hands slid inside the shirt, finding his chest rising heavily with every breath, sweating. She could feel the beat of his heart quicken as she touched his flesh. Quickly she pushed the thin covering off his body. A buckle – yet another obstacle for her now clumsy fingers to negotiate. Sensing her frustration, he tugged it loose for her, allowing her to take charge of his zipper and to drop his trousers to his feet. He kicked them away impatiently.

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The bedclothes, clean and crisp were pulled back to rest at the foot of the bed.

Once again, he took her hand and led her forward to the bedside. He pulled her close, kissing her, teasing her to the core of her emotions with his tongue on hers. He was strong, yet so gentle with her. She felt safe and protected in his embrace. Their bodies were both almost overcome with the depth of the passions within them, but on another level, she felt peaceful, almost serene. She knew that the inevitable was going to happen, they would make the most wonderful union as he took her tenderly down onto the bed.

He was a considerate lover. He stroked her body, long, slow strokes from her breast to the top of her thighs and then out to her sides and back to the point where he began. This he did, gathering momentum after several strokes. Now each movement held a little more urgency, was a little deeper. Soon he could do no more. She knew it and was powerless to defend herself against invasion even if she had wanted to.

His manhood found its goal with certainty, cleaving his way into her, he kissed her more as his lust took full form inside her. The rhythm of their bodies joined was musical, flowing full of desire.

She wanted him so much now, her breast heavy and aching for fulfilment. She had been with other lovers of course, but never before had a man taken her so robustly, with such fervent passion in every sinew. Never before had she felt that her head might swoon under the pressure of her own desires. Her heart was pounding in every part of her. Her nerve ending sensitised to every thrust, every plunge into her.





She didn’t know how long they made love for, only that when he climaxed, her own orgasm was with such force that she did indeed feel as though she would loose consciousness. Her body and mind were wracked with convulsions as they reached heights that most only dream of reaching. They clung to one another as shock after shock tore through them.

He dropped to her side, panting and moaning, his manhood wet from their combined juices. She felt them trickle from her pussy, hot and flowing from her.