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On the Other Side of Lust
It seemed that after a while, it became as tired of me teasing it as I had become of it teasing me. I felt movement on Joseph’s side of the bed, and I turned my head to see an indentation in the mattress. That was a first: I had felt it before, but I didn’t see that kind of visual evidence of its existence until that moment. It made my arousal spike to new heights.
Next, my hand was pushed away from my private parts, and a heavy weight rested on top of me. My arms were lifted over my head and felt like they were being pinned down against the bed. My legs were pried open wider and I felt a sharp sensation against my breast that seemed like teeth. I gasped with delight, trying to breathe, but the heavy weight on top of me made it difficult. I just watched in amazement as I felt my nipples being licked and bitten by an imaginary force. It was so real, I saw droplets of liquid forming around my nipples, sparkling in the morning sun.
Then it really happened. I couldn’t make out what was going on, but I felt a large sensation plunging inside my vagina. I was startled at first, then filled with pleasure and desire. I assumed it was my hunky man’s penis because it felt too big to be fingers. But then again, it had been so long since I’d felt anything like that downstairs, it was hard to know for sure.
It started pumping in and out of me. First it was slow and sensual, then it got faster by the moment. The bed shook underneath me. My body shook underneath him. I started to writhe my hips in sync with the motions, but the weight on top of me was too heavy for me to move freely. I felt the palms of my hands slowly being opened and strong fingers interlacing lovingly with mine.
A hot breath warmed up my neck. My body felt like it would explode all over. And then it became more intimate with me.
“Do you like that, Coralee?” I heard it whisper in my ear. I looked around, a little bit alarmed because I never heard it speak before. It had a deep, manly voice that was demanding and yet tender. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I wanted to believe it was real, but on the other hand, I started to go back to thinking this was all just the product of my overactive imagination.
It made sure I didn’t think that way. He made sure that I knew he was real. “You’re not imagining me, Coralee,” it whispered. “I’m real, and I desperately want to make love to you.”
We are a group of authors,