X-Art: Teasers

by Lexi Maxxwell

  I long to unlock it.

  Maybe it’s because men stare at your beautiful body and face wherever you go. Maybe you’re worried that if I issue commands it’s because I see you as an object. Maybe it’s something from your past.

  Of that I’m most sure.

  But I don’t know more than my instincts because you won’t tell me.

  After the fights we’ve had in defense of your silence, I’m no longer willing to ask. There’s so much you’ve not told me about life before us. You showed up in San Rafael, sitting on the bench at Wayfarer’s as if hatched from an egg. All that matters is us, you insist. Everything before me was practice.

  I wonder who you were while practicing, who you were with, if they were better than me, and if I’ll ever get to taste your earlier version.

  You’ve found your rhythm, now it’s like I’m not here. The show is for me, but the pleasure for you. I unbutton my khakis, pull out my cock, then start stroking, quickly going faster as I slowly realize this is it. There will be no taking you hard from behind like I want to. This is a show, and I’m to enjoy it your way. If I’m a good boy — I always am — there will be seconds later, maybe thirds if the boys stay down for their nap.

  You peel your panties past your ankles and leave them in a puddle, then lift your left leg and send your fingers back to dancing inside your tiny hole. Moans grow heavier, less for me and more for you. Circles are tighter and faster as you take two of your fingers (the pointer and middle) and slip them between your drenched lips.

  You start plunging, muffling a scream.

  I’m stroking faster. My cock thickens and throbs in the heat of my palm.

  I’m hot, not just thinking of you now, but thinking about the ideal you I keep inside my mind. The you I know is there, waiting to emerge, eager for me to take her hand and lead her someplace better.

  I want to scream out and tell you all the things I want, but like always am prisoner to my silence.

  I wonder what’s wrong with me.

  Why don’t I take you?

  I hate my uncertainty.

  Part of me thinks you’re daring me, and that all I need to do is stand up and take you. Part of me thinks that’s what you want. Part of me imagines your moans and growls and happy, little whimpers as I fuck you hard on my terms.

  The rest of me is uncertain.

  Instead of standing like a man I stay on the floor, milking my meat while you fuck yourself with fingers instead of my dick.

  I have just seconds.

  As you send yourself into the morning’s first orgasm I feel a jolt through my body. I go faster, picturing myself leaping to my feet at the final second so you can drop to your knees and take my load in your mouth.

  I long to have you swallow every drop while fixing your eyes onto mine.

  I’ve asked and I’ve begged.

  But I won’t ask or beg anymore.

  Follow the script.

  The second orgasm hits your body harder than the first. Your shoulders shake, and your body quivers as you slowly come down, brushing your slick pussy lips through the descent.

  My cock is hungry, hurting for you. I should be on my feet, not on my ass. I should be inside you, plunging you into a third orgasm from behind before you’re finished with seconds.

  Instead I do nothing, except slow my speed to keep goo inside me.

  You fall on the floor, back to the tile, and plant your right hand on the wooden slats behind you. You part your legs like wings, and return all fingers to your pussy.

  I love how you’re sitting. I love your spread legs and the swell of your belly. I love that you fuck yourself fast — almost furiously — for several seconds, before pulling your fingers from your sloppy hole and dropping them back into your teasing mouth, pursing your lips around your slick digits and making eyes at me.

  Again, you dare me to take you.

  And again, I sit and wonder why I don’t.

  What’s the worst that can happen?

  My moment is now, here if I take it.

  I’ll stand, pull you to your feet, slip my left arm under your waist, bend you over, and plunge my steel shaft inside you, filling you with throbbing dick for a few plunges before flooding you with cum.

  You want it.

  I know this.

  Still, I am frozen, cock in hand.

  The moment is gone so you take care of yourself.

  Fingers jackhammer inside you, pounding you into a final orgasm that I could have — should have — given to you. Your fingers are no longer playful, thrusting strong and hard into your hole as it clenches around them, doing the work of my dick.

  This is the you I want when teasing, the you I am sure lives just under the surface. The you I can smell and want more than anything.

  “Oh, oh, oh … ”

  Your eyes are closed, and I’m invisible.

  My chance is gone.

  Your pussy is so wet, the sloshing of fingers is now louder than the shower. My cock is throbbing so hard it sends an ache through my body. Yet, as you moan, crashing my need and want, I slow my stroking and doing nothing to sate it.

  I don’t want to spill cum on my knuckles.

  I want my spoo inside or on you.

  More than anything, at least here in this moment, I want to cum in your mouth. This isn’t because it will feel better than your pussy, which is hot and wet and ready for my filling, but because it is a sign of the beautiful surrender I can’t seem to find between us.

  I want to command you, as partner not property.

  More than that, I want you to want me to do it.

  I want you to feel safe on your knees.

  I want your submission, and for you to see your yielding as honest. I want you to crave your own surrender like I do, on your knees with an open mouth, ready to do as I say, because you want to. Just like I want to do for you.

  You fall from your high, breath still heavy, smiling as you finish.

  You run your hands across your soaking top, squeezing your tits as you part your legs and show me the beautiful, bald pussy shaved for my pleasure.

  You stand and invite me to stand with you.

  I’m rock hard, still unrelieved.

  You smile, still playful.

  I’m so fucking stupid.

  The you I want was on display, it was my job to pull her from the window.

  Our lips crash. I feel your smile behind the kiss.

  My hand is still at my cock. You slap it away, wrap yours around it.

  It takes no time — just one, two, three tugs, and I’m finished.

  Warm cum spits from my tip and splashes up onto your stomach.

  You giggle and lean into my ear.

  “Next time, just stand up and fuck me.”

  the end

  INSPIRED BY THE VIDEO “PRELUDE TO PASSION” ON X-ART

  CLICK OR VISIT THE LINKS BELOW FOR MORE:

  NO EXPLICIT PHOTOS

  http://leximaxxwell.com/x-art

  WITH EXPLICIT PHOTOS

  http://x-artstories.com

  Sacred Romance

  I stare at you as I lie on my back in a black bikini, sun streaming through the fingered palm branches lightly swaying above as I arch my back like a cat, prepping my body and mind for your eager attention.

  You’re ready for me, smiling as you drip oil from the bottle to your hand — waiting for my body, just as it’s been waiting for you.

  Warm oil lands in your open palm, and you knead it softly into my breasts, brushing your thumbs across my nipples as I shiver. I add my left hand to yours, but you flick it away with a finger, smiling down from above as you pull my flesh up between your open fingers, squeezing my breast harder as I blush from my middle.

  My head falls back, and my eyes point to the sky as thick chestnut tumbles of my hair sway against the middle of my back like a paintbrush kissing a canvas.

  The pool is as beautiful as the surrounding grounds; the grounds as gorgeous as the perfectly azure sky, hovering over our
perfect day. The world gleams around us as I lose my top and turn onto my tummy.

  You drizzle oil onto my back as if my body were salad, paying extra attention to the creamy globes of my ass, dipping your palm into the crack and letting your fingers graze my quickly moistening center and sending me into light rises and falls against the mattress.

  You slip my bikini bottom down past my ass, then leave it at my knees, still gently digging between my soft cheeks with your right hand, as you sweep your left palm under my rising body to again knead at my swelling breast.

  My mouth widens in a tiny O while you fondle me harder, heating my body like bread in an oven, making me want you more.

  I lift my ass so you can pull my bottom the rest of the way from my body, then drop it in a puddle before burying your face between my cheeks, softly kissing my skin before your tongue makes its way into the waiting depths of my pussy.

  I start moaning as the tip of your tongue darts in and out of my slippery folds, my body now involuntarily lifting higher and falling faster. You pull your face away, but only for a moment — just long enough to spread my lower lips and wedge your tongue in tighter.

  The O of my mouth is no longer tiny, opening wider as my moaning grows louder and you lap your tongue in longer strokes across my flesh.

  My ass is high in the air, and my breasts brush the mattress as your right hand pushes me down. My hair spills like a shattered halo around me.

  You stick your pointer finger into my hole, slowly at first, but soon you’re fucking me with your straightened digit, faster and faster, rubbing me up and down, increasing speed as I sway my ass into your fondling.

  I turn to kiss you, lifting my ass, enslaved to your movement. You readjust your body so you’re kneeling at my side, palm cupped under my chin as you move your finger even faster, as if sending it on a mission.

  Whimpers fall from my mouth in short, almost stifled bursts.

  Uuuuuu … mmmmmm … uuuuu ... mmmmmm …

  You withdraw your finger and flatten your palm, rubbing it against my still-juicing pussy. My moans continue to grow louder as you lean in to kiss me, planting first one kiss on my neck, then followed by many.

  Uuuuuu … mmmmmm … uuuuu ... mmmmmm …

  I buck my ass to meet the movement of your palm.

  Your hand circles around me, fondles my heavy breasts, then pulls me up so I’m on my knees like you. Our tongues meet, each extending from our open mouths. We kiss, softly at first, then harder as I start stroking the bulge beneath your soft, blue underwear.

  I pop your cock from inside them, then take a second to look up at you with my large, brown eyes before extending my tongue and flicking your tip. I lap at your skin a second time, like a cat to its milk bowl, then swallow you cock as you lose an exhale above me.

  You rub my back as I slide my mouth up and along your throbber, without hands, until you lower yourself to your back and I climb on top of you.

  Your cock is pointing like an arrow, begging for my tongue.

  I comply with a smile, dragging my soaking muscle from base to tip before lightly grabbing your shaft with my hand. I stare into your eyes as I stroke you, then return to your dick as you close your eyes and enjoy me.

  My tits hover above your skin as my mouth worships your idol — in and out and in and out and in and out of my mouth.

  The palm trees sway harder above us as the light, spring air plants kisses on our naked skin.

  I climb on top of you and kiss you, again softly on the mouth, lightly lifting my ass as you slip your cock inside me.

  It’s like a knife through butter; exactly what we’ve been waiting for. I loved the teasing, and always do, but this is what I want most.

  You’re flat on your back, and I’m straight, save for the bend in my knee. Together, we make a naked, upside down T.

  I rock back and forth on your cock, heaving as it slides in and out of my soaking wet hole. You breathe and pant and beg for my mouth with your hungry eyes. I surrender it to you, brushing my lips against yours before pushing my mouth harder into your face.

  The sucking sounds between us only turn me on more.

  I lay my body flat against yours, moving faster as you lift your ass from the mattress and start plowing yourself harder inside me. Your breath is heavy, matching my own: hot, and fogging my breasts as they sway in your face.

  I whimper and squeal in your ear, moving my body faster, hoping that if I swivel my hips you’ll meet my speed.

  You do, splaying your hands softly onto my ass cheeks, then pressing hard enough for me to feel your urgency. After another few thrusts I lean back, slapping my hands flat on the mattress and bending my body like a rainbow.

  Your cock is still pointing straight up inside me, but now you can see the clean sheen of my pussy — bald but for the tuft of hair just above my clit — as I bounce up and down.

  We pant as one for a minute, my tits bouncing enough so the slapping of my flesh up top is matched by the squishy, sloppy sounds below.

  I sit up and start rubbing my breasts, unable to manage my moans, or the pure pleasure which must be swallowing my face.

  You grab my body. You mean to be gentle, but heavy want makes you rough on my skin. You push into me just under my large breasts as you stare at my nipples — large and pink and perfect, not much darker than the areola around them. Your thumbs dig into my flesh. We bounce.

  You make a C with your left hand as it circles my breast, then match it with your right before squeezing my valley together.

  Your thumbs brush my nipples as you thrust your cock up inside me. My mouth is still hanging open with moans, mutters and tiny whimpers, falling like rain from a cloud. My eyes swallow sky as you stare at your dick and continue to make me feel like the goddess I am.

  I pull my hair back from my forehead, letting it spill to the middle of my back.

  You pause to kiss me, slowly rocking my body, returning your lips to mine, until I pull away and swing my right leg up onto your left shoulder, closing my eyes and setting my head at the top of the mattress as you position your dick to take me again.

  You slide inside me as I stare in your eyes, moaning as my pussy clutches your shaft. You hold my leg high so you can shove yourself deeper. I rest my head in my palm to see you. My tits sway from my overheated chest.

  You groan, teasing us both as you pull out to the tip, almost every time, before plunging yourself back to the hilt. You thread your fingers through mine, then clasp my hand as if clinging for life.

  I can’t look at you because the pleasure’s too much, so I squeeze my eyes tight and let my mind fade into what’s coming.

  My face is clammy with sweat. I whimper louder, slowly approaching a scream, my leg is still up on your shoulder, our eight fingers and two thumbs still braided together. The open O of my mouth is now so wide I could probably fit two of you inside it.

  My breasts bounce wildly, and I’m suddenly starving; wanting, needing, and having to have more of you. I pull away and move to all fours, then, like a hungry animal, you thrust yourself deep inside me.

  Fast and then faster, you mash my body into the mattress.

  My hand strays, slipping between the narrow valley between my leg and tummy, reaching back to rub at my pussy.

  The pleasure’s too much. I simply can’t take it.

  I leave my slippery slit and reach back up to squeeze your hand as my left presses into the mattress, looking to steady my rapture.

  You grunt above me, preparing for the end.

  My cries grow slower in pace but louder in volume. I can feel my soaking wetness below. Like a bucket spilled. I never want this to end.

  I press my palm on top of your hand, then start rubbing my pussy in time with your thrusting. You grunt as I’m screaming, squeezing my hand into the mattress. My hand moves faster until, again, I can’t take it.

  You slow your plunging, now moving in long, tortuously painful thrusts.

  I turn my head to kiss you, swimming in bliss
as you pull out of my body.

  I roll onto my back and you straddle me. Then I take your cock into my mouth, curling my fingers around it, just below the base as my lips clamp to the tip, tasting you, wanting you, hoping to give to you what you’ve given to me.

  I look into your eyes and can see what you’re wanting, so I pull your throbbing dick from my mouth, wait for you to drop it between my tits, then squeeze them together so you can slide slowly up and down, fucking my fleshy valley, no different from the long and slow strokes you were lending my pussy moments before.

  I rub my fingers across my nipples, then the tip of your dick. Once I know you’re starving to have me, and empty your seed all over my body, I hold you steady at the hip with my left hand and start stroking fast with my right. Your cock is so slick with my spit.

  You moan and groan and get ready to lose it.

  Then you do.

  White milk shoots from your tip. The first spurt lands in a sticky rope, running down my thumb and onto my right tit. I lean back and moan.

  This is what I wanted.

  I continue jacking your shaft until you’re dripping all over my body. Your cum lands on my neck and drools down my skin, in between my tits then down toward the jewel in my belly. I squeeze again and a send another long spurt from your cock. It lands mostly on my chest, though I hurry to lap it up, wanting to catch some of your spurt in my mouth.

  I milk you for another few seconds, until you’re finally empty and softly moaning above me, thanking me with sounds that are nowhere near words.

  Cum drips from my thumb as I stare in your eyes.

  We kiss, our tongues meeting just before our lips.

  Our mouths part, and you kiss my nose. I lick your lips, softly, pushing my cum-covered breasts together.

  I feel so grateful for you, for our sacred romance.

  the end

  INSPIRED BY THE VIDEO “SACRED ROMANCE” ON X-ART