Dream § Humid
[ Rating | NC-17]
It's humid tonight, but you like that the most.
The air is heavy and moist, sweat and sex and lust in the air. It clings to the skin like salt from the sea, susurrant in the distance. Shhhhh with the ebb and the huuuush of the flow of skin on skin, breaths whispering secrets that sound like moans shared between soft lips.
Moonlight spills through the open shoji screen, washing bluewhite over soft bodies writhing on damp sheets. There are no angles here or hard edges. Only curves flowing into curves and delicate fingers smoothing deceptively slow down the slope of a back. They can kill you if you close your eyes, those fingers. So you watch instead, the rise and dip of soft folds on the bed, a flash of pink glistening when fingers slip down and rub and part.
She's beautiful when she dips her head down and bites that slender curve of neck where it's most tender, fucking the woman below her in that slow, sensual way women sometimes do. They like to take their time, dragging fingers over heavy breasts and hot skin, licking up sweat like the cold sake you slowly poured over skin. Her eyes were dark when she watched you earlier. Long, dark hair spilled over strong shoulders when she bent her head to watch the liquid trickle down over her sternum, gooseflesh rising slow with the hot lapping of a hungry tongue moving up her stomach.
"Anko..." Legs part for fingers that move slow and easy, up and down and up and down, a slip and slide and easy glide, lazy and almost lackadaisical. It's such a slow tease you can't help but smile, knowing she wants more than this, these nonchalant fingers rubbing her swollen clit, pelvis rising against the soft mound pressed against hers. Her hands come up and around, nails scraping red on white skin when they squeeze two perfect asscheeks and slowly pull, then glide down taut thighs and up again.
A soft growl.
She's impatient.
"Hmmn?" She's not. She likes to take her time, even with her pussy so wet, hovering inches above from the one she's rubbing, shadow and moonlight painting strokes of light and dark across the folds each time they undulate. Rise and fall, up and down, with those clever fingers.
Heat curls. You take a step forward but large, strong hands pull you back, spreading warm over your chest, heavy and firm. They run over your nipples once, then twice, giving them a slow twist that has the tensionheatneed coiling. He knows you too well, chuckles softly when you cleave back against the muscular planes of his chest. Let your head fall back against that broad shoulder, your hand sliding around the back of a corded neck. You think you can feel his heart beating against your back when he slides his hands down over your stomach.
Thump thump.
His fingers know you too well.
They ssssstroke.
"Nnh...."
He's throbbing, pressed hard against your lower back. There's a hunger there in his fingers, in each tug and pull. You're going to be sore tomorrow, you think, as he rubs himself against you, slow and slick. And then his mouth is finding its place on your neck, tongue hot when it slides over your skin. A shiver down your spine with teeth digging in and his fingers pump in the way he knows you like. Stroke, twiiiist, sliiiide. His cock slides between your asscheeks and you almost moan at the feel of it there, want it to fill you, but want to be buried deep as well. You rock your hips, like the feel of silky hard heat gliding against you. Like the way his fingers grip you. Hard at the hip and steady around your dripping cock.
He's all angles and hard planes, and before you are endless curves and the soft oh, oh the way women do so well.
"Oh..." When you slide into wet heat and it clenches so good and you groan with the way she pulls you in, so velvety and slick and god you think you might just come right there, with your cock buried to the hilt, and his lubed fingers stroking down your spine and into that hot furrow of your ass, rubbing against your hole in a tease. So you focus on her instead, the way she has herself spread on hands and knees, looking over her shoulder at you and licking her lips. She smells amazing, all musk and salt and there's beads of moisture dewed on those folds, so you bend forward and lick them up. Part her and suck them up, the scent and taste of her overwhelming as you start to rock your hips.
"Oh..." With your tongue tripping over her clit, rubbing and rolling, teeth lightly pulling. You love this saltysweet ribald taste, how she rolls her hips back to meet your face. And your mouth, it's hungry for more, tongue stabbing in between wet folds, strong muscular walls clenching each time your tongue, your cock, drives in, pleasure soaring through you in flashes of liquidy heat. In and out and you can't help but pause when his finger circles around and stabs in and sensation flares into a pant of breath against her pussy rubbing against your lips, her body clenching around your cock in strong pulses of fuck me. And then another finger joins the first, and you're gasping and writhing in and out in little jerks, rocking back on those fingers as they slowly, carefully part and stretch with a patience only he ever has.
They curl.
"Nnnh!"
The pleasure is tight in your belly and you're gasping as your tongue slicks between her folds, rolling against that quivering root, fucking yourself on curling fingers plunging in and out and fuck -- "Oh, oh," deeper and harder and the fingers are so good, like the way she clenches around you -- "Haah--" rocking hips, needy and wanting more, more, more, harder and faster. God, she's so wet, the sounds lewd in your ears, with the slapslapslapping of skin on skin and the hungry ssssssslurp of a mouth, moisture dribbling down your chin.
"Mmh, you taste so good..."
Breath and moans in the air.
Fingers tighten in your hair and claw up your back and curl deep inside of you.
His fingers pull out, and you pause.
Wait.
His hands spread your asscheeks, holding you in place.
Wait--
Her walls grab you, keep you still. She holds herself steady, looking back. They watch.
A sucked breath when he rubs against you so hard and slick, pressing forward and you bear down to take him in, your gasp hoarse when you feel him, so thick and hard and stretching you wide, filling you so slowly, inch by inch (it's overwhelming, this feeling, but he always is) and fuck it feels so good with his cock driving in and your cock buried so deep, and -- "Hahh!" -- when he pulls you out towards him, then slam the rest of the way in, heat into heat into heat and you think you see stars before your eyes, bursting like the sensation deep within. He's fucking you before you even adjust, and you're slamming in deeper each time he drives home, moans muffled when she rocks her hips back and fills your mouth with that saltysweet taste. You lick and suck, fucking her with your tongue, sucking on those slick lips and tugging them apart, pulling them out between your teeth before letting go with a soft plop and chasing it back in with your tongue flick flick flicking--
"Fuck-- oh fuck!" She's screaming and clawing at the sheets, with your moans vibrating against wet skin, your mouth hungry as she sucks and squeezes on her tits, her moans as muffled as yours and caught in your throats -- "Nnh! Nnh! Nnh!" each time you slam in. His breath is hot against your back and he's driving in so hard and fast, grabbing you by your hips so tightly you know it's gonna bruise -- fuck, fuck, fuck is all you can think, with your body trembling, the heat so intense and you're lost in this. Lost in herhimher. In the taste and the smell and the heat and the sweat, the sounds of fucking and pleasure and need, the feeling that's growing deep inside, spiraling fast and heady and desperate, and he's filling you filling you filling you filling her and fucking her with your tongue.
This is how they come apart -- shaking, clenching, pounding home.
"Ohhhh!"
"Ohhh!"
"Hahh--ahh--Nnghh--"
"God, Kakashi..."
Close, close, close--
[ With how hot it is, and the lack of air conditioning, he'd gone to bed without his shirt on tonight. The moonlight spills across his chest, revealing a chiseled terrain marred by scars. Shadows hide his face, and he's gasping when he wakes, breathless as his body jerks awake. For a moment he stares up at the ceiling, incredibly conscious of just how impossibly hard he is. And then he remembers. A soft groan catches in the back of his throat, and his hand is blindly reaching out, fingers coming into sight as the Hitomi shifts. The broadcast ends. ]
It's humid tonight, but you like that the most.
The air is heavy and moist, sweat and sex and lust in the air. It clings to the skin like salt from the sea, susurrant in the distance. Shhhhh with the ebb and the huuuush of the flow of skin on skin, breaths whispering secrets that sound like moans shared between soft lips.
Moonlight spills through the open shoji screen, washing bluewhite over soft bodies writhing on damp sheets. There are no angles here or hard edges. Only curves flowing into curves and delicate fingers smoothing deceptively slow down the slope of a back. They can kill you if you close your eyes, those fingers. So you watch instead, the rise and dip of soft folds on the bed, a flash of pink glistening when fingers slip down and rub and part.
She's beautiful when she dips her head down and bites that slender curve of neck where it's most tender, fucking the woman below her in that slow, sensual way women sometimes do. They like to take their time, dragging fingers over heavy breasts and hot skin, licking up sweat like the cold sake you slowly poured over skin. Her eyes were dark when she watched you earlier. Long, dark hair spilled over strong shoulders when she bent her head to watch the liquid trickle down over her sternum, gooseflesh rising slow with the hot lapping of a hungry tongue moving up her stomach.
"Anko..." Legs part for fingers that move slow and easy, up and down and up and down, a slip and slide and easy glide, lazy and almost lackadaisical. It's such a slow tease you can't help but smile, knowing she wants more than this, these nonchalant fingers rubbing her swollen clit, pelvis rising against the soft mound pressed against hers. Her hands come up and around, nails scraping red on white skin when they squeeze two perfect asscheeks and slowly pull, then glide down taut thighs and up again.
A soft growl.
She's impatient.
"Hmmn?" She's not. She likes to take her time, even with her pussy so wet, hovering inches above from the one she's rubbing, shadow and moonlight painting strokes of light and dark across the folds each time they undulate. Rise and fall, up and down, with those clever fingers.
Heat curls. You take a step forward but large, strong hands pull you back, spreading warm over your chest, heavy and firm. They run over your nipples once, then twice, giving them a slow twist that has the tensionheatneed coiling. He knows you too well, chuckles softly when you cleave back against the muscular planes of his chest. Let your head fall back against that broad shoulder, your hand sliding around the back of a corded neck. You think you can feel his heart beating against your back when he slides his hands down over your stomach.
Thump thump.
His fingers know you too well.
They ssssstroke.
"Nnh...."
He's throbbing, pressed hard against your lower back. There's a hunger there in his fingers, in each tug and pull. You're going to be sore tomorrow, you think, as he rubs himself against you, slow and slick. And then his mouth is finding its place on your neck, tongue hot when it slides over your skin. A shiver down your spine with teeth digging in and his fingers pump in the way he knows you like. Stroke, twiiiist, sliiiide. His cock slides between your asscheeks and you almost moan at the feel of it there, want it to fill you, but want to be buried deep as well. You rock your hips, like the feel of silky hard heat gliding against you. Like the way his fingers grip you. Hard at the hip and steady around your dripping cock.
He's all angles and hard planes, and before you are endless curves and the soft oh, oh the way women do so well.
"Oh..." When you slide into wet heat and it clenches so good and you groan with the way she pulls you in, so velvety and slick and god you think you might just come right there, with your cock buried to the hilt, and his lubed fingers stroking down your spine and into that hot furrow of your ass, rubbing against your hole in a tease. So you focus on her instead, the way she has herself spread on hands and knees, looking over her shoulder at you and licking her lips. She smells amazing, all musk and salt and there's beads of moisture dewed on those folds, so you bend forward and lick them up. Part her and suck them up, the scent and taste of her overwhelming as you start to rock your hips.
"Oh..." With your tongue tripping over her clit, rubbing and rolling, teeth lightly pulling. You love this saltysweet ribald taste, how she rolls her hips back to meet your face. And your mouth, it's hungry for more, tongue stabbing in between wet folds, strong muscular walls clenching each time your tongue, your cock, drives in, pleasure soaring through you in flashes of liquidy heat. In and out and you can't help but pause when his finger circles around and stabs in and sensation flares into a pant of breath against her pussy rubbing against your lips, her body clenching around your cock in strong pulses of fuck me. And then another finger joins the first, and you're gasping and writhing in and out in little jerks, rocking back on those fingers as they slowly, carefully part and stretch with a patience only he ever has.
They curl.
"Nnnh!"
The pleasure is tight in your belly and you're gasping as your tongue slicks between her folds, rolling against that quivering root, fucking yourself on curling fingers plunging in and out and fuck -- "Oh, oh," deeper and harder and the fingers are so good, like the way she clenches around you -- "Haah--" rocking hips, needy and wanting more, more, more, harder and faster. God, she's so wet, the sounds lewd in your ears, with the slapslapslapping of skin on skin and the hungry ssssssslurp of a mouth, moisture dribbling down your chin.
"Mmh, you taste so good..."
Breath and moans in the air.
Fingers tighten in your hair and claw up your back and curl deep inside of you.
His fingers pull out, and you pause.
Wait.
His hands spread your asscheeks, holding you in place.
Wait--
Her walls grab you, keep you still. She holds herself steady, looking back. They watch.
A sucked breath when he rubs against you so hard and slick, pressing forward and you bear down to take him in, your gasp hoarse when you feel him, so thick and hard and stretching you wide, filling you so slowly, inch by inch (it's overwhelming, this feeling, but he always is) and fuck it feels so good with his cock driving in and your cock buried so deep, and -- "Hahh!" -- when he pulls you out towards him, then slam the rest of the way in, heat into heat into heat and you think you see stars before your eyes, bursting like the sensation deep within. He's fucking you before you even adjust, and you're slamming in deeper each time he drives home, moans muffled when she rocks her hips back and fills your mouth with that saltysweet taste. You lick and suck, fucking her with your tongue, sucking on those slick lips and tugging them apart, pulling them out between your teeth before letting go with a soft plop and chasing it back in with your tongue flick flick flicking--
"Fuck-- oh fuck!" She's screaming and clawing at the sheets, with your moans vibrating against wet skin, your mouth hungry as she sucks and squeezes on her tits, her moans as muffled as yours and caught in your throats -- "Nnh! Nnh! Nnh!" each time you slam in. His breath is hot against your back and he's driving in so hard and fast, grabbing you by your hips so tightly you know it's gonna bruise -- fuck, fuck, fuck is all you can think, with your body trembling, the heat so intense and you're lost in this. Lost in herhimher. In the taste and the smell and the heat and the sweat, the sounds of fucking and pleasure and need, the feeling that's growing deep inside, spiraling fast and heady and desperate, and he's filling you filling you filling you filling her and fucking her with your tongue.
This is how they come apart -- shaking, clenching, pounding home.
"Ohhhh!"
"Ohhh!"
"Hahh--ahh--Nnghh--"
"God, Kakashi..."
Close, close, close--
[ With how hot it is, and the lack of air conditioning, he'd gone to bed without his shirt on tonight. The moonlight spills across his chest, revealing a chiseled terrain marred by scars. Shadows hide his face, and he's gasping when he wakes, breathless as his body jerks awake. For a moment he stares up at the ceiling, incredibly conscious of just how impossibly hard he is. And then he remembers. A soft groan catches in the back of his throat, and his hand is blindly reaching out, fingers coming into sight as the Hitomi shifts. The broadcast ends. ]