8: The Vacation Fling(2)

The first brush of his fingertips against her wet folds made her gasp, her back arching off the bed.

“Beautiful, you’re so wet for me,” he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her.

She whimpered as his fingers parted her, sliding through her slickness, teasing her entrance before circling her clit in slow, maddening strokes. Her hips bucked, her body desperate for more, but he kept his touch light, drawing out her pleasure until she was trembling beneath him.

Then his mouth was on her, his tongue replacing his fingers as he dragged it through her folds, tasting her with a groan of approval. She cried out, her hands flying to his hair, gripping tightly as his tongue delved inside her, fucking her with deep, relentless strokes.

His beard scratched at her inner thighs, the sensation only heightening the overwhelming pleasure building inside her. His fingers pressed into the soft flesh of her ass, holding her still as his mouth worked her, his tongue swirling around her clit before flicking it in quick, punishing motions.

She could feel the orgasm coiling tight in her belly, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her moans growing louder, more desperate. Just as she teetered on the edge, he pulled back, his breath hot against her throbbing pussy. “Not yet beautiful,” he whispered. “I want to make you remember me every time you close your eyes.”

She whined in protest, her body aching for release, but he only chuckled darkly, the sound sending another wave of heat through her.

He stood, his movements quick as he shed his pants, his thick manhood springing free, already glistening with pre-cum.

She bit her lip at the sight of him, long, veined, the head swollen and dark with need. She reached for him, her hand wrapping around his manhood, stroking him slowly from base to tip. His breath hitched, his hips jerking forward slightly as she swirled her thumb over the slick crown, spreading the moisture before gripping him tighter.

“Fuck, you have no idea what you are doing to me.” he groaned, his hand covering hers, guiding her strokes faster, his manhood throbbing in her grip. She could feel the pulse of his heartbeat against her palm, the heat of him searing her skin.

“Come here… I need to feel you,” he growled, his voice a guttural snarl. He pushed her back onto the bed, positioning himself between her thighs, the head of his manhood pressing against her entrance.

She held her breath as he thrust inside her in one slow, deliberate motion, filling her completely. The stretch burned, but it was a delicious ache, her body welcoming him, her walls clenching around his thickness.

He groaned, his forehead dropping to hers as he gave her a moment to adjust, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Then he began to move, his hips snapping forward, his manhood pounding into her with deep, punishing strokes. The bed creaked beneath them, the sound mixing with the wet slap of skin and their shared moans.

“You feel so good… so sweet… so warm…” he panted, his voice hoarse with effort. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels digging into the small of his back as she met his thrusts, her nails raking down his sweat-slicked skin.

He thrusts her harder, the force of his movements driving the breath from her lungs, each snap of his hips sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her core.

She could feel his balls slapping against her ass with every thrust, the obscene sound of their bodies coming together filling the room.

His mouth found hers again, his kiss bruising as his tongue mimicked the rhythm of his manhood, fucking her mouth in time with his relentless pace.

“Cum for me,” he demanded, his voice a raw command. His hand slid between their bodies, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing it in quick, firm circles.

The added stimulation sent her spiraling, She felt her orgasm building, a coil of pleasure tightening in her core, her body on the edge of release. “Yes…Yes… Yes… just like that, don’t stop,” she demanded, her voice raw, her body desperate for more. She screamed his name, her back arching off the bed as her pussy clenched around his manhood, her juices flooding around him.

The sensation pushed him over the edge. With a guttural roar, his body stiffened, his manhood pulsing deep inside her as he came, his cum shooting into her in hot, thick bursts. She could feel every spurt, the warmth of him filling her, marking her in a way that went beyond the physical.

They collapsed together, a tangle of limbs and ragged breaths, the sheets damp beneath them. He rolled onto his side, pulling her against him, his lips pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. His touch was surprisingly gentle now, a stark contrast to the raw intensity of moments before.

The air in the room was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, the musk of their combined arousal clinging to their skin. Outside, the distant sound of the sea lapping against the shore drifted through the open window, a soothing counterpoint to the storm they’d just weathered together. She traced idle patterns on his chest, her fingers following the lines of his tattoos, faded ink that told stories she didn’t know but suddenly wanted to.

In the dim light of his flat, with the weight of his arm draped over her and the ghost of his touch still lingering on her skin, she knew this night would stay with her. Not just as a memory, but as something deeper, a symbol of beauty and freedom, of desire unshackled and pleasure unapologetic.

She never saw him again after that week. No phone numbers, no promises, no regrets. Just a memory etched into her skin, a reminder that sometimes life gives you one perfect night, and that is enough.

….

Chloe closed the diary gently, almost as if she didn’t want to break the spell.

This one was different. Softer. Not reckless or guilty, not forbidden or dangerous, just… beautiful.

She leaned her head back against the wall, the hum of the empty house echoing around her. Four stories now. Four women. Four truths.

And still, pages waiting.

She turned to the next entry.