House of Feathers Ch. 03: A Contest

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Tantric theory has it that sex can allow men and women to unite not only their bodies, but also their minds, in a total union on the path to Oneness. One’s partner becomes an extension of oneself as physical boundaries become irrelevant. In the end, for a truly loving couple, where does one end and the other begin?

With that in mind, this is an experiment, trying something not normally recommended for writers. Let me know what you think.

“So you think so?” he smiled. “Well then, how about a contest? First to have an orgasm forfeits.”

“Forfeits what? A week’s KP? A foot rub? What?”

“Let the winner decide afterwards,” he said.

“That could be pretty high stakes.”

“It could. Are you in?”

“Maybe,” I said. “Toys?”

“Nada,” he said. “Straight stud poker – and may the best hand win.”

I groaned at the triple pun. “Not even the feather?”

“Nope.”

“Toad – I like the feather. Do you get to play with my boobs?”

“How else?” he replied, grinning.

A gentleman.

“Deal,” I said. We shook hands on it very formally, then broke into laughter at the incongruity. With constant warmth and total privacy at our villa, clothing was pointless and neither of us had worn a stitch of clothing since our village shopping trip days ago.

The night was warm and scented with the sea and tropical flowers. I spread large cotton towels on the soft beach and brought down a pair of wedge pillows. We lay down under the night stars, facing in opposite directions. The villa lights had been turned off and all light was coming from the near-full moon, the southern stars and one candle lantern. He brought an ice bucket with glasses and white wine.

Lying down, I reached over and pulled on his still-flaccid penis, stretching it and pulling it out from his body. “Seems like there’s something defective here,” I teased.

“Customer interface problem,” he retorted. “Have you experimented with the controls?”

In answer, she sat up, reached for my wrists and pulled my hands towards her breasts. I sat up, too, rolled over to kneel facing her, cupped them in my hands, lifting and massaging them. She smiled that special smile, the one she knew was guaranteed to inflame me. My cock started to stiffen.

I continued to fondle one perfect breast with one hand. With the other, I began stroking her soft inner arm, slowly running fingertips from elbow to wrist, down to the palm and trailing off the ends of her fingertips. I felt her nipple stiffen under my other hand.

“Why does that, my arm, feel so sexy?” she wondered aloud.

“They say the skin is the body’s largest sex organ.”

I took his half-erect cock in one hand and rubbed its head slowly against the palm of the other, as if I were polishing off a smudge on a glass Christmas tree ornament. It rapidly hardened and I switched to a gentle fondling of its whole length, occasionally ticking his sack with my nails.

I love how my man’s body changes as he gets excited. As his meat thickens and stands up to present its blind eye to the sky, his scrotum rises too, pulling its precious pair upwards. The skin darkens, the wrinkles deepen and the testicles swell. It’s an artistic performance using flesh; I love it, knowing that I’m responsible, that I made this happen!

Much as I love being a woman, there are times I wish my body could do something like this. I could feel my nipples flushing and bahis firmaları becoming erect under his hands, but it wasn’t one tenth of the visual spectacle my lover was giving me. Maybe that’s why God gave women boobs, something for men to admire?

I continue to stroke and tickle his parts, occasionally making a cage of my nails and running it lightly up and down his rigid weight.

I switched my caresses from her arm to her belly and flanks, terminating each stroke just above the end of her perfectly-trimmed landing strip. I could see her yoga-toned stomach muscles tense. Her not-quite-hidden labia beckoned for attention.

With the palm of one hand, I pressed down on her mound of Venus. I massaged the flesh up and down, from side to side.

Its movements tugged directly on my labia and the hood over my clitoris. They were dragged by the motion of his hand and I could feel my excitement grow.

Spreading my fingertips under his erect length, I bounced them up and down, as if playing the piano. His erection was so stiff that he barely moved.

I moved my caressing fingers to her inner thighs. Gently, gently, I stroked from inside her knees until I was almost touching her sweet lips. They swelled and I could sense the first drops of dew appear below her pleasure bud.

I was, as always, amazed at how quickly he could turn me on. I had often wondered where he’d learned to be such a fabulous lover. I was torn between profound gratitude and green-eyed jealousy for the unknown women who had taught him what he now used for my pleasure.

I firmed up my strokes up and down his stiffness, feeling the softest skin on his body slide smoothly under my hand over the iron within. What a treasure, I thought. What a beautiful, fascinating thing!

My pulse quickened as she shifted her grip, beginning to pound with the surf just yards away. My tool grew still harder, more expectant, more demanding. My tight sack pressed my balls tight against my abdomen and I could feel a growing, glowing pressure behind them.

My fingers began going further on their voyage, briefly and lightly stroking the outer edges of her labia at the top of each stroke before recommencing down near her knees. The first time I did, she sucked in her breath.

“Oh, yes,” I whispered as his fingertips at last reached my pussy. I started lightly pumping his warm shaft in a fast one-two-three rhythm, pausing after each three strokes. One-two-three. Pause. One-two-three.

The helmeted head on his penis pulsed and grew under my fingers. I quickened my pumping speed and watched it turn purple under my loving fingers. One-two-three. One-two-three. A drop of pre-cum emerged like a liquid jewel.

His expert fingers – finally – slipped between my labia and lovingly stroked the wet, warm, waiting entrance to my womanhood. They moved up and down along the opening. My inner lips delighted in his touch and my outer lips swelled in approval.

One finger, then two, slipped inside her honeyed haven. I curled them up against the rougher tissue of her G-spot and then slowly slid them out, trailing them lightly over her clitoris as they emerged. Her hips started pumping in response.

Repeat. Listen to breath hissing in and out.

Reaching down, I started rolling his hardness between my hands, shifting my hands up and down his shaft as they rolled back and forth, quicker and quicker. He gasped in pleasure kaçak iddaa as my hands moved up over his head. And again. Faster.

My fingers twisted in her pussy, stretching it in new ways. She gave a shill cry and pushed herself against my fist. When I returned to stroking out from her G-spot, her head dropped to my shoulder, breathing fast.

I could feel her sweet juices on my hand. Her pumping sped up and I felt a weight like a hot rock building just forward of my anus. I continued to stroke her slit, but softer, slower, gentler.

The new sensations caught me by surprise, but I should have expected it. He was a talented and considerate lover, wise in the ways of my body. Men cum from hard, fast fingers, but women often need slow and gentle. I felt my pearl retract, hiding under its hood, readying it for orgasm. My heart was hammering and I could feel initial contractions deep inside me. His other hand returned to fondling hard nipples, switching back and forth.

I palmed one of her hard little mountains and gently squeezed the whole tanned globe below it. She moaned in appreciation. I switched boobs. She had superlative breasts, I thought – not too large, not too small, firm yet soft, shapely, with enchanting nipples. I loved them. Even clothed, they fascinated me. I wish I had something she found as amazing.

We were both very close to orgasm.

“This is very good, but there’s no hurry. Would you like an intermission? How about some wine?”

“Yes. Yes, please.”

One last firm, stroking squeeze and we rolled over and clung to each other. Perspiration shone on our bodies. My genitals pulsed with each heartbeat. It was hard to breath.

After pouring the wine, we lay back to the watch the stars move in their majesty above us. My thrilling frustration pounded with my blood. I longed ever so much to roll over on top of the flawless body next to me and end it.

I smiled, knowing that the pause would make the end better. Settle down and start again.

“Look,” they said, pointing at a shooting star overhead.

“An omen,” I replied and they grinned.

Fingers moved gently along my leg and I squeezed a hand in return.

His cock was still hard; I could see it silhouetted against the stars near the horizon. I reached over and ran my fingertip along it. It was time.

I began gently stroking his length again, my other hand gently but firmly stretching his nutsack away from his body. My hand ran lightly over its suede sheath, back and forth, without making the skin shift over the engorged core.

The sensation was wonderful. Resting had not lowered my desire, but had given me a chance to catch my second wind, so to speak. We would both last longer as a result, being able to enjoy the other’s sensual attentions for a much longer time.

We were after Quality.

I leaned over to lick her nipples. As I got close to her skin, I could smell her female excitement. I twirled my tongue around and around them, flipped them with my tongue tip, held them firmly in my lips and hummed. She wiggled in pleasure at the barrage of sensations, holding my head to her chest and moaning with pleasure.

This was supposed to be manual only, but I figured it was only a technical fault. She didn’t in any case seem to be objecting…

I loved him playing with my breasts! Totally win-win, if you ask me. They seem to have a direct connection to my clitoris and he kaçak bahis could be just amazing. I could feel my soft flesh moving under his firm, loving hands. My nipples felt like they were on fire; my whole body started tingling. What a wonderful lover!

I shifted to my other hand to pump him, knowing it would alter the rhythm he was feeling. He bent his lips to mine for a long, loving, searching kiss as we continued to excite each other. His hand, trapped between his chest and my boobs, continued to stimulate my nipple.

She broke the kiss, bent her head to my shoulder and nipped the skin with sharp, white teeth.

“God, but you feel good,” she gasped. My fingertip made tight, light circles around her pleasure button and I felt more vaginal juices ooze out to cover my fingers. Her hips began to buck.

Her fingers on my cock were entrancing, enormously exciting. My nuts felt huge and my head about ready to explode.

His hand on my breast squeezed and my pussy clenched. Her pumping sped up, faster and faster; my balls were heavy as lead.

“Break time?”

“OK, but you were winning.”

“I know. Would you like more wine?”

“Please. Like me to rub your back?”

“I thought we were on a time-out?”

“It’s allowed. Just your back.”

I swivelled around and strong fingers rubbed and kneaded. After perhaps five minutes, I turned.

“I love you.”

“Can’t think of why.”

“Liar.”

“True.”

We lay down again to watch the stars, hoping for another shooting star.

A cloud of fireflies drifted by and I caught the double-domed silhouette of her breasts against them. I reached for them with my near hand, stroked them softly and finally, sitting up, draped my palms over them. These were the best sex toys for me.

His gentle fingers fuelled my desire. Eager to repay him, I led three fingers across my vulva and then wiped their slickness on the head of his manhood. I made a spider with my hand, fingers sticking straight down, and lowered it over his rigid member. With his head against my palm, I squeezed tight and screwed my hand over his lubricated plum as if opening a bottle cap. The rim edge was as taut as a full balloon. His cock pulsed under my hand; I could feel blood move within it.

He groaned with pleasure.

I leaned over and kissed him hard, biting his lower lips gently with my teeth. Reaching out my left hand, I felt it brush against the wine bottle. On impulse, I stuck my hand into the icy water of the cooler.

My cock felt enormous, as if it contained all the lust in the world. I felt that I would split in two if I didn’t find release soon. I stopped teasing her boobs and put both hands between her legs. One forefinger rested on her clitoris, while the other hand grasped the outside of her engorged outer lips with thumb and forefinger. I dragged them up and down, side to side, as I gently massaged her tender bud between them.

I gasped at the new sensation. My pussy felt empty, hollow, desperately needing to be filled. I moaned – hell, maybe it was my clitoris moaning.

Faster now.

I took my hand from the ice and, while continuing to pump his shaft furiously with other warm hand, wrapped chilled fingers around his nuts.

I gasped at the sudden, unexpected chill. My cock couldn’t possibly get any harder, but it did.

My love button was singing, dancing under his finger.

It felt like I was going to explode.

“Who’s winning?”

“Both of us.”

A deep, yearning breath and I came. Gloriously, happily, wonderfully, I came. It lasted, on and on.

I came.

No losers.

I came.

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