A Sexual Religion Draped in the Colors of Ivory and Red [fm]

My soul always unravels when my cock enters Ivory for that first time, when we are together once more. I am the only person on the planet that dare calls her ‘Ivory’, for she hates her skin, the tone of it, and the impossibility for her to get even a hint of a tan. To her it is her biggest flaw, even more so than the disappointment she has at her breast size. I have called her Ivory ever since, not to mock her, but to remind her how much I enjoy the shade of her skin, its alabaster glow. How she literally shines like some supernatural goddess when we fuck in the moonlight.

But, as I was saying, my soul always unravels when my cock enters her that first time being together again, each and every time! Cock and cunt intimately familiar, yet not. The attraction, with a dash of resistance. Absence makes the cunt grow wetter and the cock grow harder and all of that. Regardless, that first time rejoining with her after weeks or months apart always feels like the very first time being in her. Every damned time! It is a divine moment.

Perhaps it is the unique sound that escapes her lips from the penetration, not quite a request, not quite a moan that makes it so divine.

Perhaps it is the unique sound that comes from her throat but never passes her lips, something raw, something primal. Always very carnal. There are no words with this sound, but the sound screams, “Gods I needed you inside me. I need you fucking me…” It is a sound that would stir lust into the most pious of man, or woman for that matter.

Perhaps it is the simple, squishy sound of man flesh entering woman flesh, becoming something greater than the sum of the parts.

Perhaps it is watching her fingers claw in pre-ecstasy around whatever fabric is close at hand. Whether it be my shirt, the silken sheets, her crumpled dress that seemed so sexy when it was clinging to her body, but now is just some stretch of cloth for her to hold onto dear life with…

Perhaps it is the simple relief that my cock doesn’t need to envy my fingers any more. Fingers that are still slick yet sticky from invading her cunt moments before. Making her squirm, and pant, and cum. I loved fingering her, breaking through her sealed lips, then being met with that incredible wetness, taking her beyond being turned on and breaking her into that perpetual lust state she has already broken me into. A state of lust she has twisted me into new ways each time we find ourselves physically entwined again.

Perhaps it is a need of being physically fulfilled. Countless moments of her fucking my mind with just her words, her thoughts, her supposed wicked deeds while I am far away. The filthy words, the delicious teasings, the simple education of what lust really is and how thoroughly she pulls it from the depths of my mind, from the darkest corners and crevasses. The late night calls. The daily innuendo-filled emails devotionals. The “911” text that screams, “I need your cock, your cum, your everything RIGHT FUCKING NOW!” while knowing I am in the middle of a meeting at work. Mindfucking me until the lust is all I can think about. Her lust is all I can think about. We do not just fuck. We do not even just have sex. We share in our steaming lust, the most dangerous coupling of all.

Perhaps it is the sensation of feeling her generously wet cunt impossibly pulling and pushing on my cock in the aftermath of her last release. My fingers still savoring the memory of being kissed by her aroused pussy. Slick fingers trying to grip her soft ivory skin. Savoring the the primal buzzing in my brain as those fingers slick with her, graze on her flesh.

Perhaps simply, shoving my cock into her quivering pussy is a sexual meditation. Being with her our sexual religion. She is unique as a lover. She draws me to her and within her in ways no one else has or ever can. She is my priestess, for she has pulled lust from me in almost a spiritual way. She has taught me all of the various shades of desire and what they each really mean; which ones are sinful sweet and which are sensually tart. She haunts my dreams. But, she is my disciple as well, for she just as hungrily yearns to have her lusts pulled to her surface to be played with, her desires to be shaped in ways only a devotional lover can. A devotional acolyte to her religion of lust-filled gratification.

In this particular case, her ivory ass is in the air as I enter her. Her sex is a delightfully sinful paradox, for I would rather be facing her as we fuck, letting my eyes fuck her as much as my cock fucks her. Yet, I still fuck her like this instead. Frictionless from the wetness, full of resistance from the orgasmic aftershock spasms. The lust burning on the surface of my skin wants nothing more than to fill her, to fuck her, to make her cum violently against my pistoning cock; to hear her delighted sighs as she feels my hot cum coating her cunt in momentary endless streams of liquid fire. It had been too long since I have been inside her sweet pussy. She didn’t even give me the time to feast on it properly. It was too long for her as well, yet somehow she still snuck in a moment to feast on me earlier;right after dinner before the car ride home, to this…

She has fucked my mind almost too thoroughly over the past two months. My cock savors being inside her now, my fingers digging deeper into her hips, locking her in place. Left hand still slickly trying to grip her tightly, right hand savoring the her flesh more directly, without a slick of her cum in between. Both hands teasing my senses of how electric her skin feels to my touch, even in the contrasts of that touch. As my memories replay all of the moments leading up to now. Replaying all of the devotionals she shared with me about fucking her from behind…

“When you take me from behind, all I want is to feel your cock. Filling me, fucking me, USING ME and losing your lusts into me without distraction. I want to feel you fucking me with that throbbing cock of yours, with the intense lust you have, without watching you fucking me with your eyes. I want to be blind to it…and your eyes can be too much of a fucking distraction, a good one to be sure, but a distraction nonetheless…”

Without distraction. She is always a distraction. Always stirring a need within me to get lost and found with her.

I feel her grind. A distraction.

I hear her whimper a plea, “Fuck me!” A distraction.

The only movement my cock gives her is the throbbing jerking through it. I feel her cunt trying to squeeze me deeper into her. I hear her whimper a more sultry and desperate, “Fuck me!!” It comes out hoarse and throaty.

My body wants nothing more than to fulfill her requests. My cock is screaming to. She is already way past her point of no return. Yet, my mind is in a strange and naughty controlling state. Wanting to play and wanting to control both of our growing lusts. She has so completely fucked my thoughts, my dreams, and my desires over the last few weeks that now that she is in my hands again, that she is surrounding my cock again, my mind wants to fuck her too. It goes against the from-behind devotional, and yet…

She whimpers and her body quivers in an uncontrolled spasm. Her arms give out and her head collapses into the bed. Her fingers strangle the tangled sheets in a fit of despair.

“Fuck me…”, the sound of her voice heroin candy to my lust crazed mind. My body taunt to answer her calling, my mind keeping me paralyzed, I couldn’t thrust if I tried to…

“Please…”, the desperation tickles a part of me that only she reaches. One of the layers of desire I didn’t know existed before her. One that no other lover has been able to caress. She tries to grind, tries to force me over the edge. She can sense how close I am…A frustrated grunt, perhaps a wish that she didn’t suck me off earlier, so as to make our first official fucking not end too quickly. Part of me aches to return to playing with her clit. I do not dare though, not with her this hair-trigger close…

My mind keeps my body in check. The curious part of my mind wondering what it would be like to cum inside her just by the sound of her frantic state, the limited grinding of her cunt against me, and the insanely erotic massaging of her cunt all around me. The one thing she lacks is that much serenity after she initially cums. She always needs more, until she is a hot wonderful mess of sweat, and cum, and flesh, and tears.

Her back arches in that impossible way. Any other time, that would have pushed me over the edge. Feeling how her entire body pulls and slurps my cock ever so much more deeply into her, the need to cum with her overpowering. But my mind wants to send her into a state of decadent deviancy. I want her to be as lost in the lust as I am. Dripping with it. Feeling it infect every part of her being, filling her pores, her mouth, her cunt, her ass. Blinding her eyes. Filling her ears with sounds that strangle sex from her. Breaking her and reshaping her. As she has broken and reshaped me, countless times now. I want her as my disciple, as my priestess, as my goddess to our sexual religion.

“Fuck me, please!”

“Not yet.”

“Damn it! Fuck ME!”

That last, a command, a plea, a frustration, all rolled into one delicious sexual knot. She is there, at that impossible edge. Where lust, desire, anger, ecstasy, bliss, pleasure-pain, and release all dance on the head of a pin, kicking any fucking angels that were dancing there clear off. She loves that edge. We love dancing there together. It is probably what keeps bringing us together instead of settling on lovers within closer reach of our normal lives. Easier to savor far away, with the wordplay of distant lovers, until it really feels like you are together. but oh so much more rewarding when finally we are physically in proximity. When our sexual gravity makes it nearly impossible to not be an entanglement of flesh and sex and erotic distractions.

She is a sweet and wonderful mess and she is all mine. The sounds escaping her body are not in any known language, yet I know what each one means:

“Fuck me…”

“Suck me…”

“Use me!!!”

“I know you want to cum inside my sweet cunt…”

“Fuck my cunt…”

“Fuck my, sweet, delicious cunt…”

“Let go of me so you can taste my sweet cunt off your fingers. So I can fuck you…”

Her sex spasms in what perhaps are mini orgasms. It becomes virtually impossible not to fuck her, yet I still barely resist. We can have more. We have had more. She has shown me the rewards of prolonging a moment like this, countless times…

“You…”, a gasp.

“…fucking…”, another…

“…horny…”, and another…

“…bastard!”

Her words are sharp, like broken glass of explicit art. Her taut body loosens a bit, even as her pussy spasms around me. Her hips pushing as hard as she can against me, even as the rest of her body starts to melt into the sheets of the bed.

“Red…”, she whispers. As sharp as the last words were, this single one was filled with honey. My mouth suddenly watered, my memory filling in the blank of tasting her cunt with the way she said that simple color. Only Ivory could stir arousal in me by muttering a shade. I can see her lips when she has painted them a crimson ‘red’. Her pink pussy swells into a violent ‘red’ if I take too long to touch it, lick it, fuck it. I can picture her in that ‘red’ dress she likes to wear when she takes me dancing. The ‘red’ of it makes her ivory skin glow deeper and toys with the blackness of her hair. I recall the first time she wore that dress, the first club she took me to, how her body felt when we danced and grind and how she smiled knowing she made me cum surrounded by hundreds of other people dancing….how she feasted on me cock in the car, cleaning the mess she made…how she fuck my brains out when we got home in a way I firmly believed I would never be able to hold a useful thought again…

“…Red…”, a repeat of the word, or an echo of it in my mind, I am not so sure.

“What?”, I ask, the second utterance of the word ‘Red’ snapping me from my sexual meditation. I feel a bit out of sync. It makes no sense in our moment. As sharp as her last words were, this single one was filled with divine sweetness. It shouldn’t stir this much arousal, yet it does. The way she says ‘red’ is in a sensual delirium. It drips of lustful sex. I can suddenly taste her in my mouth, yet my lips haven’t had the chance to drink from her pussy yet tonight. Men have lost empires and fortunes in moments when being subjected to that level of lust. A lust she subjects me to it perpetually. Yet, she manages to do so with just a word. I was already a mess, now I was something even more…

If she was fucking me over the phone, hearing her utter the word like that, in that sultry harmonic tone, would have sent me into a fit of jacking off. It was too much! My fingers deepen their grasp and I give her a slight thrust. The pleasure is insane. Only she ever gets me this intense, and I have been accused of being too intense an individual at the most mundane of things. And all she did was utter a color in a special tone of voice while her cunt delightfully sucks on and tortures my aching, hard cock. I have stayed in a state of control against all of the utters of ‘fuck me’ and ‘please cum inside of my cunt’ and yet she says ‘Red’ my control slowly unfurls.

“I can almost taste you in her…” Her voice is shaking, yet suddenly somewhat peaceful, no resigned. Her mind is suddenly sharp. In the same lust prison mine is in. Our bodies need to fuck, but our minds need more than fucking. More of that forbidden lust we only get from each other, more dark decadents, more sexual wanderings.

“Who are you talkin…?”

“Our hostess at the restaurant. Don’t you remember her?”

I barely did. It was torture enough to have to go somewhere to eat after the picking me up from the airport. I just wanted to go home with her, and lose our clothes, then our minds, and only after reacquainting our bodies to each other, realize we probably should get something to eat. She had other plans. My mind was lustfully distracted by the woman that my cock now was in. It had been too long since we had been together. Why think of other women when I was going to have the only one that really mattered…my priestess, my disciple…

And yet, my subconscious did remember ‘Red’. It started to fill in the blanks of her. The tightly curled copper hair. The almost too cute face, painted with freckles and framing a sweet smile. Her breasts trying to break free of the suit coat and creamy white shirt beneath…

“At dinner, while your fingers were teasing my clit, I thought about how you would fuck her…How I would get off watching you devour her. Tease her. Make her beg for more. How I would press up behind you and whisper into your ear how I would want you to fuck her, for me.” Her voice something soothing, sexy, and predatory now. Her mind fencing with mine. Fucking with mine. Finding a way to snap another thread of sanity within me. Making me break down so I would fuck her frantically. I gripped her tighter, pushed into her deeper. The movement of my cock gave her the fuel she needed to continue, I could hear the smile on her lips even if I couldn’t see it. Worst I could taste that smile…

“She was perfect for us, for you. Too sweet on the surface. Just thinking about all of the lust underneath, perhaps to even be uncovered. Mined from her for the first time. All of those hidden obsessions she has when she is alone, fingering her puffy cunt at night, never believing any of those obsessions and secret desires could possibly come true…”

And my mind saw ‘Red’. Much more undressed. Her breasts, oversized to her otherwise small frame, just as freckled as her face. Pink nipp…

“I love how the two of you taste together, while you fuck me like this…” I thrust, I cannot help it. My vision is suddenly stars, and of my Ivory, and of her licking a naked Red, her crimson-painted lips pressed against Red’s ironically pink pussy. Ivory licking my cum out Red’s sweet, puffy cunt.

“Yes…”, she slurs in sexual drunkenness, “She is our appetizer. Our plaything. I fucking came at dinner thinking about her mouth around your cock. About watching you fuck her tits. Do you like fucking her tits, Matty, since you cannot fuck mine, not really anyway?…” I loved Ivory’s tits, she thought they were too small. But, they were wonderful. Soft and sensitive and she loved me playing with them, sucking on them, focusing on them…

I could see what Ivory was painting in my head; I could feel it come to life…

“…watching you fuck the sweetness from her face. Gods, I would cum watching you take handfuls of her curly, copper face and just fuck the hell out of her delicious, little, slutty mouth. Pulling her lust to the surface, for us to feast on and play with. Drawing out the whore she is too shy to share with anyone…Fucking me with your eyes as you are fucking her from behind with your cock. I have never wanted to be fucked with your eyes more than I would like that, watching you fuck another when the bigger part of you still would rather be inside me, the ultimate turn-on. Then, fucking me next. Fuck me while you watch me eat Red’s cum filled cunt…”

And I fucked her. I fuck my Ivory with an unbridled vigor of need. Need to let my potential lust turn into kinetic lust. My need to cum. My vision blinded in a way she could only blind me. Putting my mind into a situation it both desires and yet repels. Filling me with a vision that would set me off. She always fantasized about watching me inflict my sexual intensity on another woman. Forcing me out of the intimacy I need during sex and putting me in an exhibitionist roll, for her eyes to feast on. And all of the times she shared those fantasies are filling in the gaps now.

Her words mix with moans. “Make…us….cum…”

Fucking her hard and deep. Her ass slapping against my thighs. ‘Red’ shimmers out of my mind. There is only her now. Ivory skin, raven black hair swirling in waves with every thrust.

I feel her cum against my cock before I hear her surreal scream. I feel her fingers dancing along where cock and cunt meet, and probably dancing on her clit as well. I explode behind her and grunt and cum and curse and cum and cum and cum. Thrusting with wild abandon. Completing our sexual prayer. Fucking, fucking, fucking prayer.

I finally let go of her and she collapses on the bed, my cock leaving her cunt in a wet, squishy push. I already miss it, yet the intensity of the orgasm makes me feel too weak so I fall in beside her.

Her head nestles into me, tears flowing. She is a sweet mess. We both are.

Her hand finds my cock, and the touch of it is too much, too soon. The pleasure is too much, hitting the hypersexual harp strings of my soul, yet her grasp is one of deep need. Need to touch. A simple, raw desire to stay sexually connected to me in whatever way is available. Her thumb circling my cock’s hole, making my body jerk and making a gasp of air flitter through my clenched teeth. Reminding both of us, again, that we never really get fully sated, just temporarily fulfilled.

She weeps in her bliss, while her hand overwhelms me with mine. Every stroke a mindless bolt of almost painful aftermath pleasure. I paw at her until my hand finds her ass, slips instinctively between her legs, and inflict that same aftermath intense pleasure on her sex. We lust too much. We need too much. A pool of flesh and cum and sex.

The wave subsides. Intense pleasure turns into soft connection. Our lust lightly sated but its embers waiting to completely reignite.

Soft touches, softer breathing…

“I want her…” she utters.

“I want her to be our plaything…” she teases. My cock stirs.

“I want you to want her too…” she giggles, in a slutty sultry way.

“I NEED you to want her…” she utters way too seriously.

“And I can feel you want it too…” her voice cracks almost like having another orgasm.

“But most of all…” she slides down my chest, kissing, licking.

“I can’t wait to fuck you…”, she slides my cock into her mouth, giving it a long hard suck, tongue attacking it as she lets it pop from her mouth.

“…after we have had her.” At that, if I hadn’t cum yet that night, I think I would have instantly creamed all over Ivory’s wicked heart-shaped face. Her lips surround the head of my cock. She doesn’t move, she waits…waits for me to start fucking again, but this time fucking her mouth. Gods, she is so slutty, and sexy, and wanton and wonderful.

I suddenly realize she is serious. And I realize it is my turn to fuel her new fantasy.

My fingers entwine in her black hair and I start to slide my cock deeper in her mouth…I respond…

“We will have to seduce her, somehow…”, she counter-strokes each of my thrusts into her mouth with her hand, divine.

“She definitely needs to be seduced just right…”, her other hand finds her pussy, gets lost into my words.

“It will need to be slow…”, I slow down my thrusts into her mouth, I see her speeding up how fast she attacks her cunt with her fingers.

“Just look at her face. Too cute, almost too innocent. It will take time to peel her down to her base desires…”, she shoves her wet fingers into my mouth, feeding me her cum, while she grinds the bed in a mad state, and tries to force me to cum into her sweet hot mouth and on her other hand.

“Perhaps we should go back there for dinner tomorrow…”, she moans around my cock. I dream about being in the restaurant and fingering her as she stares lustfully at ‘Red’, as I whisper in her ear. I cum violently at the thought. My fingers lost in a tangle of black hair, yet a part of me is seeing copper curls. It scares me and delights me.

We are so lost in our lust. In our new game. Me dragging the fantasy out as long as I can. Her, reaching, trying to seduce that part of me that would want it to happen, to succumb, to it. Nothing excites her more than when I succumb to her desires. I have always avoided her attempts at bringing another woman into bed with us. But now, the reasons for not wanting to seem to be almost forgotten, I can barely remember what any of them even are…

I watch her finish me. I watch her stroke my hot cum up and down my still throbbing shaft. Tongue and lips feasting along. Her eyes fucking me. Fucking me….fucking me…

Letting me know whatever control I had is spiraling away.

I do not care, I am too busy drowning in our shared lusts. Too busy praying a sweet devotional of our sexual religion…

…and she is too busy answering my prayer.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/dif87e/a_sexual_religion_draped_in_the_colors_of_ivory

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