1. Secret


    Date: 4/26/2016, Categories: Straight Sex, Author: mike01xXx, Rating: 2, Source: LushStories

    Nobody really knows what it’s about. That feeling within your soul. It’s like looking out into the night sky searching for a star that you last saw some time ago. You have no idea what it looks like, how bright it shines, but it’s there. The feeling is confusing, mixed up, missing, but yet its presence is undeniable, but only you know it exists. The sky outside was a brilliant light blue with wavy streaks of white clouds passing by in the upper atmosphere, peering down at the minute inhabitants below. Winds blew them by, catching leaves in their current, and dragging loose sheets of newspaper along the quiet tarmac outside. The beach resort was still quiet at seven in the morning, only the sound of the distant waves sweeping and hugging the shores, washing up and pulling away. I looked back into the room from the balcony, the winds greeting the curtains ever so gently. Walking back in, leaving the balcony’s sliding glass door open, I headed towards the bedroom. Passing the humble living room, where lay two single sofas, a coffee table and a wall mounted LED TV. The entire floor was carpeted – from wall to wall and even under the doors. She lay on the bed, tangled up in the brilliant white bed sheets and comforter, her long dark hair falling down her face and shoulder. If I hadn’t looked properly, I might have screamed out in sheer fright. A streak of light poured over her tummy from the slit in the curtain that was closed the night before when we cuddled up to sleep. Her ...
    legs peeked out from under the sheets, long and slender, toned that of an athlete. Recalling the night before as we cuddled, I thought I could feel her heart thumping like that of a drum roll. She was warm, her hands cool. It felt as if she wanted to make a move or wanted me to make a move, but none of us dared to. The tension, that’s it, I could feel it. Or I was just being hypersensitive. Approaching the bed, I recalled the spaghetti string singlet she wore to bed – light pink of cotton material – together with an old sports shorts that was white and had strips. I climbed back into the bed gently hoping she wouldn’t stir but stirred she did. A groaned escaped her throat as I cuddled in again once more and then without thinking, kissed her neck ever so gently, lips brushing over the smooth skin. She gasped softly pressing her back into my chest, her head titled back over my shoulder, exposing her neck. I initially thought that she’d might reject the morning arousal and intimacy, but she didn’t. I naughtily looked at her small breasts, her eyes still drowsy and curtained with her hair. Her nipples were erect. Temperature, maybe? They were not big, they were what most people called petite. I didn’t. I found them alluring. Probably A or B. I wasn’t sure. I never studied sizes. I brushed my fingertips along her jaw line, slowly while planting another slow kiss on her neck, gently inhaling at the same time. She turned her head and rested in my neck, her breath caressing me. Kissing ...
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