There’s too many knees, elbows that stab into exposed ribs, and if Olivia gets a cock in her eye she’s calling the whole thing off...
It’s slick skin, jostling for position, hands cupping her breast, mouth at her throat; it’s fingers deep in her cunt, a tongue lapping between folds of silken skin. It’s stubble and porcupine chin, there’s nothing dignified about it. Push, pull, sweat and teeth.
It’s the breath Olivia holds as Lincoln breaches from behind, inescapable pressure that grinds her pelvis into Peter, a thin membrane of skin and two cocks rubbing between the divider.
It’s a paean because Olivia can hold this, hold them.
It’s orgasm slow as syrup, caused more from overwhelming pressure than pleasure; it’s solid and immutable, and there, there, there. Lincoln thrusts, gentle, and the aftershocks trickle down, running from Lincoln to Olivia to Peter. Peter catches her, muscles locked under the weight of two people, and rocks back – eyes blown wide – movement ponderous, quiet as a sailboat. It’s a thumb rubbing concentric circles over her clit, guiding her from one peak to another, never letting pain take center stage - until it’s a shadowy ghost pacing Olivia’s awareness.
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timeasmymeasure
Concentric
Date: 2011-05-31 03:13 am (UTC)It’s slick skin, jostling for position, hands cupping her breast, mouth at her throat; it’s fingers deep in her cunt, a tongue lapping between folds of silken skin. It’s stubble and porcupine chin, there’s nothing dignified about it. Push, pull, sweat and teeth.
It’s the breath Olivia holds as Lincoln breaches from behind, inescapable pressure that grinds her pelvis into Peter, a thin membrane of skin and two cocks rubbing between the divider.
It’s a paean because Olivia can hold this, hold them.
It’s orgasm slow as syrup, caused more from overwhelming pressure than pleasure; it’s solid and immutable, and there, there, there. Lincoln thrusts, gentle, and the aftershocks trickle down, running from Lincoln to Olivia to Peter. Peter catches her, muscles locked under the weight of two people, and rocks back – eyes blown wide – movement ponderous, quiet as a sailboat. It’s a thumb rubbing concentric circles over her clit, guiding her from one peak to another, never letting pain take center stage - until it’s a shadowy ghost pacing Olivia’s awareness.
She comes.