Emma’s eyes tracked his every move as he pulled down his shorts and boxers in one smooth action. He stepped out of them and stood before her. She looked at the hard lines of his body, the ridges of his stomach, lower, past his tidy pubic zone, to one impressive piece of equipment. He said something, but she was not paying attention, riveted as she was. He sprung forward and grabbed her before she could resist, crushing her to him, and brought his lips to hers once again. Emma was putty in his hands, and put up no resistance when he undressed her. Standing naked before him, she had to bear his scrutiny, as his gaze swept over her body, causing her to flush red. Stepping forward, James told her to forget the swim.
He picked her up and carried her back to the blanket, laying her down and kneeling beside her. He seemed to drink her in, his eyes lingering at her breasts before moving lower. Emma knew she was attractive, and tried to take care of herself, but this man made her feel like a goddess. He reached out, almost reverently, to touch her face, the back of his fingers gently stroking her cheek. He whispered so quietly that she almost did not hear. “You are so beautiful.” That was all he said before his fingers started to trace lower, down along the side of her neck, up over her shoulder, across her chest, sending a jolt of electricity through her as he circled her hardening nipple.
Her breathing quickened, along with her heart rate. She let out a small moan of pleasure, as he leant down and, using his tongue, stimulated her nipple even more. He took her breast in his mouth, as his hand continued its journey lower. Her stomach fluttered under his touch, as he continued teasing her nipples with his lips and tongue. His fingers had reached her pubic mound, which longed for his touch, the memory of the Jacuzzi still strong in her mind. She wondered how intense it would feel without the thin fabric of her bikini bottom, so impatient was she for that touch, she found herself arching her back and raising her hips to meet his fingers.
The moment his fingers touched her sex, Emma thought she was going to climax. James began to work her sex, as she writhed against his fingers, this time she did not need to hold back, this time she let James know the effect he was having on her. Emma let him know with every gasp of pleasure and movement of her body, she knew his fingers would be glistening with her moist sex as he stimulated her clitoris harder and harder. There was no holding back the tidal wave of pleasure that crashed over her whole body, her cries echoed out as she called his name. Just when she thought it was over, and the ripples had started to subside, he kissed his way down her body, her stomach again fluttering under his feather light touches.
Emma knew what was coming, her fingers wrapped in his hair as she guided him lower. James breathed in the aroma of her sex as he kissed her pubic mound, letting her guide him lower until his tongue finally made contact. The moment he tasted her, Emma felt a shift in his urgency; he located her clitoris, and she felt the onrushing of a second orgasm close on the heels of the first. This was incredible; she was lying on a beach, with waves breaking gently on the shore, the sun was shining brilliantly, and this gorgeous man was about to make her orgasm for the third time in a day. His tongue was working such magic that she was not going to be able to hold off much longer. Emma was just about to surrender and give in, when he stopped, and she could have cried in frustration.
James knelt between her legs, then pulled her upright and lifted her onto his lap. As Emma straddled him, she could feel his hardness pushing at her sex: slowly she lowered herself onto him. He held her close, leaning into kiss her, raising his hips to move further inside her. Emma felt him push into her, and lowered herself to meet him, taking him fully inside her. God, he felt so big, as he moved inside her, and she rocked in rhythm with him, their tongues meeting as they became one. James lifted her effortlessly from him, and lay her down so he could hold himself above her. Emma wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deep inside her once more; he pushed so deep and hard inside her, it was almost painful, but yet intensely pleasurable at the same time. Emma raked her fingers down his back, calling out his name, begging him for more between ragged gasps.
She met his gaze and told him that her orgasm was coming, she could feel it building, and this time she was not going to be denied. She locked her legs tightly around him and pulled him in deep. His thrusts were increasing in tempo and, as she cried out her pleasure, she felt his hips buck and his warmth flow into her. Exhausted they collapsed and lay there, breathing hard. He lay beside her, his arm over her stomach, until finally they had recovered enough to talk. He looked at her and smiled. “Fancy that swim?”
The swim was refreshing, the sea warm as they frolicked in the surf. They stayed on the beach for another couple of hours, until the sun started to go down and the cool breeze became chilly, and he saw her shivering, James wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, and they headed back to the boat. The trip back to the marina was completed in a comfortable silence, Emma holding the blanket tightly wrapped around herself watching James at the wheel. She was not sure yet, what the future was going to hold with this man, but the rest of the holiday was shaping up to be as good as she had hoped, if a little different from her original plan. On the walk back to the hotel they agreed that Emma would stay with him. James offered to walk her to her room in case Rick was there, but she told him she would be fine.
Rick was already in the room when she got back; as she closed the door he told her with a smirk that he’d known she would come crawling back. She let him finish explaining how wonderful they were together, and how lucky she was that he was so understanding. Standing there looking at him, Emma wondered how she could ever have fallen for him. He patted the bed, and suggested that they make up properly, but she could not help herself, and burst out laughing. Ignoring his obvious confusion, Emma packed her bag and left the room, still laughing to herself. She met James in the bar, and together they went up to his room, and her holiday truly began.
About R.T. Steory
A little bit about me... I am married; have a newborn son; I work full time as a Customer Service Manager, and love to read any chance I can get.
I enjoy writing and taking people on a journey, painting pictures with my words. I write a variety of genres, mainly flash fiction pieces. Romance and Erotica are favourites of mine, and I try and infuse a feeling of romance into my Erotica.
Also by R.T. Steory
If you liked The Holiday, be sure to check out Tales for the Bedroom.
Find Tales for the Bedroom on the following publishing sites:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
For more from R.T. Steory
Twitter @raytullettstory
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A Picture of Hope
AJ Walters
Was it the way he longingly looked at me, the way he was able to seductively touch every curve and line of my body without so much of an ounce of doubt or hesitation? Or was it the way he accepted me for every bump, wound and scar? These are just a few of the questions that have run through my mind since day one of meeting Adam Lomax.
Next to me is the 6 foot 2 inch model of a guy, and I feel the back of his hand brush against the nape of my neck as he shifts my long, fiery red hair. I dispel the unanswered questions; why should I worry and wonder about such things, when all that matters is, he is here? He wants me and loves me.
Even though he's not in my line of sight, as I lay my cheek against the soft cotton pillow, I sense everything about him around me. He delicately runs his fingers down the length of my spine, and the connection of bare skin upon bare skin causes an electrical current to shoot straight down to the centre of me. I release a low moan, as I curl further into a foetal position, so as to expose more of my naked back to him. No words are spoken; the only sound to be heard is Adam breathing slowly, which increases in volume as he leans in to nip at my ear. Every part of me tingles and is highly sensitized by the contact. His trimmed stubble should be rough to the touch, but it only adds to and heightens what I am already feeling. Closing my eyes tig
htly, I absorb all of the energy radiating between us. In reaction to this, my nipples harden and my muscles in my core contract. My hand comes up to touch and fondle my ample breast, pinching and twisting the stiffened orb, just as Adam's hand travels lower. Drifting over my curvaceous buttock, his fingers linger millimetres from the junction of my thighs, the area that is begging to be touched.
A thin, white linen sheet covers the lower half of us like a second skin, and as if I have suddenly been pulled back into the here and now, in the background I hear the click-clicking of the camera. A thrill of excitement runs through me, as it is almost like an act of voyeurism that we are participating in. Having been in this beautiful Venetian Gothic house for the last two days, and now, lying upon the large ornate metal bed, it offers all of the romance anyone could desire. Sunlight streams through the starched, white lace curtains, which dance in the large, imposing window as a delicate breeze blows through the opened doors.
Rolling over, I come face to face with deep, dark chocolate-coloured eyes taking in everything they see before them. Yet still the camera click-clicks away, and, in the distance, words of direction are being called and yelled.
Oh yes, the four day old stubble does everything for him, and, at 39, he has got better and better with age. I adore slowly running my hand over his closely shaven hair, as the bristles tickle at my palm. Placing my finger tip upon his succulent lips, I glide it down over his bristly chin, neck, and then onto smooth, firm shoulders, where it comes to stop on the tattoo painted directly above his heart. The symbol 真正的女人was just one of his gifts to me for my birthday. The words 'Real woman' are ones that have stuck firmly in my mind, as that is the way he described me from the first moment he saw me, dressed in a cream silk dressing gown, wearing only fine red lingerie underneath.
Now hovering above me, his naturally tanned arms show off his biceps to great effect, as I write out each meaningful symbol; my long painted nail being the nib, until I come to the end of the final cursive line, and then, putting my finger into my own mouth, I gently suckle on it. Watching him intently as he licks his lips in reaction to what I have just done, I have an overwhelming desire for those lips to be upon mine, roughly biting at them.
“Okay, let’s take a break. We'll go out on to the balcony next, so we can have an hours lunch before you get your gear on,” the director barks out. His voice echoes around the vast, virtually empty space; with it's hard wooden flooring and whitewashed, plastered walls, any noise easily bounces off the surfaces.
It was on another photo shoot two years ago, with Scott Masterson, that I first met Adam. We had to learn to get intimate pretty quickly, and make it look as realistic as possible, in order for the photographs to be as convincing as possible. There was no time to be shy or reserved, and with Adam's words of encouragement, I was able to relax into what was our first job together, and the beginning of a lust-filled relationship.
Waiting for Scott to leave the sparse, elegant room, along with the photographer, make-up artist and their assistants, I then desperately bring Adam's mouth down to mine. Tongues entwining with one another in search of their own sweet nectar, and a fierceness takes over us. The scratching from bristles rubbing against my skin does nothing to deter me from my wanton need. Coming up for air, I throw my head back to breath in the musky essence that is enveloping me, and he takes this as an open invitation to kiss the pale surface of my neck.
Sliding his body down, he begins to nuzzle on my full, white breasts, cupping one while licking and tasting the red bud of the other. Transferring one from to the other, I bow my back, wanting more, as I feed on the pain he gives me. Pulling a nipple into his hot, moist mouth, I release an exotic moan that only encourages him on. The bedding offers comfort, and I am floating along with desire.
Urging him down, he leaves a trail of butterfly kisses over my stomach, a stomach that may not be as flat or as smooth as most, but one that is still looked upon lovingly. Drifting over to my child-bearing hips, he nips and bites, leaving behind marks of lust, love, and sensual yearning. I instinctively flinch and take a hold of his head, I don't want him to stop his feasting, only encourage him on. For a moment he pauses, looking directly up at me, not that he needs permission. I, however, nod, and he rewards me with his heart stopping smile. Dipping lower, I open my thighs wider, which he firmly holds on to, keeping them apart. As he dives down to the core of me, the heat that is exchanged as his mouth covers and teases my clit only adds to the already boiling tension. At the first touch, I bite down on my lip. The point of his expert tongue flicks and teases me, and knowing we are now alone, I am not afraid to vocalize the thrill I am getting from this. Adam has always said that there is nothing better than hearing a woman moan when she cums, especially his woman. Therefore, I don't hold back on what he enjoys. Continuing to lick and taste me, his tongue is joined by one and then two fingers. This man knows how and where to push my buttons, and never fails in giving me what the both of us want. Clutching at his shoulders, my nails bite down into his flesh as my orgasm begins to build. He knows this is a sign of what is to come, and so increases the rapid flicking of his tongue, pushing his fingers in further. Feeling me tighten around him, Adam looks up to me, his smouldering eyes burning me. I close mine as my first orgasm rips through me, having to clutch at the bed linen, and my juices deliciously coat him.
“Oh babe, you are amazing.” His rich, dark tone is enough for me to now want him deep inside me. Reaching for him, I forcefully pull him up, so he is now lying on top of me.
“Adam, I need you and want you; I need to feel you cum inside me.” Wrapping my legs around him, he manoeuvres himself so that I can feel the head of his ever hardening erection. Already displaying his pleasure, I grab a hold of his cock and rub it against my willing entrance. Spreading the pre-cum that has seeped out, I grin with delight as Adam slowly slides into me, never taking his eyes off mine. He takes a hold of each of my legs, bringing them up so they are now level with his shoulders. Slamming harder, deep into me, pain is mixed with pleasure, so I call out his name, begging for more. He kneels up straight, taking a tight grasp of my ankle.
“Do you like this, Hope? Do you like me giving it to you hard?” The only response I can reward him with is a nod of the head as he pushes in yet further.
“Answer me. I want to hear and know that you like what I am giving you.” His gravelly voice becomes more stern.
“Yes, yes, I like what you do, Adam. I like to feel you deep and hard inside me. Oh, God!” I cut off what I am saying as he increases the tempo, before then withdrawing.
“Turn over!” His two word command is all it takes for me do his bidding. Lying flat on my front, he encourages me to raise my arse to him. The sting from the first spank comes keen, as it was totally unexpected. The second, although expected this time, still burns the surface of my flesh, and I relish the sensation it offers. Hearing his breathing increase, he gently rubs the palm of his hand against my red hot skin. I do not doubt that there is a crimson mark upon my taut buttock. Leaning in towards me, he bites at my ear.
“Even now, after all the time we have spent together, Hope, you still do this to me. Even in public, you turn me on so much that I want to take you there and then. Spank you and fuck you hard until I hear you scream. I need to hear you beg and plead for more, shouting for me and only me.” The huskiness of his words do everything to my body.
“I want you, Adam. I want you to pull my hair, grab my breasts, whilst taking me deep and hard, leaving me begging for more. Do it, Adam, do it please.”
Those are the last words spoken as Adam rams into me from behind. Wrapping my long locks around his hand, he forces my head back and sucks at my neck. His other arm envelopes me, so I am now kneeling up against him. Yet again the bare skin of his chest is against the nakedness of my back. The explosive energy that has overtaken him causes him to pound into me. Not giving up in tempo or in pace, my second orgasm takes a hold of me.
“Come for me, Hope, come for m
e now!” His words are my undoing. Not caring who may hear us, I scream my pleasure.
“Oh fuck!” The words signal Adam’s release, and I feel every bit of his hot fluid shoot once, twice, three times inside me. Collapsing on to the bed, he stays inside of me until the both of us get our breath back.
***
A ghostly figure moves forward in his chair. “Tell me that you got all of that?”
“Yes, Mr. Masterson, I did.” The photographer never usually gets embarrassed at what he sees, but then again, he never usually gets asked to record such an intimate sexual act.
Standing, Scott Masterson then claps his hands together. “Good. If you could mark the film for my attention, then you can go and have your lunch.”
Scott Masterson has been directing photographic shoots for the past 21 years, and has not known anything different. Coming straight out of university, he got his first job as an apprentice photographer for a local magazine. It was 4 years into his apprenticeship that the five foot eleven northerner met Hope Lancaster. From the moment he laid eyes on her, he saw something special in her. She wasn't your average pin-up model, she wasn't a size 0 model, she was a real woman.
She had curves, she had grace, she had a presence, and he wanted her. Approaching her in the cafe they were both drinking in, was the toughest part of getting to know her. ‘Breaking the ice’, as we called it. He didn't want to come over as a creepy letch, so he knew he had to approach her with caution, and scripted out in his head what he was going to say. Fortunately for him, the gentlemanly approach and general chat was the right way of going about it. So when his offer of wanting to photograph her in his studio came into conversation, she didn't seem to think he was a letch at all. Barmy for thinking anyone would want to photograph her in the first place, but not a letch. In the end, though, she had agreed, and, as they say, the rest is history. Of course, he had wanted to see more of Hope than just a client, but it wasn't to be. She had said to him that she saw him more as a brother than anything else, and none of the men she had dated were blond and blue-eyed, like he was. With that, he guessed that their relationship would never be anything more than a friendship, and a professional one. However, he could not stop the feelings he had towards her. So much so, he had become obsessed with her. Scott very rarely had visitors to his humble abode in South London, which made it easy for him to have the room he had dedicated to Hope Lancaster. The photo's he took of her were not only for the public's pleasure, but for his own pleasure also. Every single one he had taken had its own place, this was, however, the first time he had videoed her.
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