Home > Erotic Art Gallery > Explicit Sex Art 1 > Explicit Sex Art 2 > Your lips on my tongue
Can we get personal now?
by Jolie Cain
Erotic sex art by Samarel
Candlelight, flowers on the table, a private booth—Luke’s eyes appreciatively perused the restaurant. The setting was exactly what he’d had in mind for tonight. He wanted to show Emma that he could romance her, not just fuck her silly, because he was discovering that he was interested in more than couple of nights burning up the sheets. She was incredible, and not only in bed. He wasn’t sure exactly what he expected, but he knew that he wanted the chance to find out. Maybe it would end up as nothing more than a brief affair...but maybe...just maybe...it could be something else, something more.
The problem was that he knew how she viewed herself and what was happening with them. She thought it nothing but a weekend thing. A little hot sex while she was on vacation, and then goodbye, see ya later. Their nine year age difference definitely didn’t help. He had never really dated an older woman, so he wasn’t exactly sure how to handle things. Most of the older women he knew were his mother’s friends, more the motherly type. Not gorgeous, sexy sirens like Emma. But he wasn’t a fool. He knew that anything between them, no matter how brief, would be tough, because of how others would perceive their relationship. However, he was willing to give it a shot. He just wasn’t sure if she would be.
Knowing that he didn’t have much time to win her over, he was pulling out all the stops. He ordered a bottle of wine from the waiter, and they sipped it and talked as they waited for their order.
When the conversation lagged for a moment, Luke reached out to take Emma’s hand, unable to refrain from touching her. Blushing sweetly, she looked at him and smiled when he raised her hand to his mouth and dropped a delicate kiss on her wrist. His gaze focused on her lips, and he was conscious of the fire stirring in his gut behind the polite surface civility he showed. “You are so beautiful, Emma. I can’t tell you how lucky I feel that I met you last night.”
Her blush deepened, and she looked down at their entwined hands. "Thank you, Luke. I’m glad, too. You’ve made this day perfect.”
“Perfect? Ah, but it’s not over yet, sweetheart.” He gestured to a passing hostess who was selling flowers, and purchased a long-stemmed red rose for Emma. Holding it out towards her, he said, “A beautiful flower for a beautiful lady.”
She smiled, shaking her head slightly, as she accepted the rose. “You are a dangerous man, Luke. Very dangerous.”
She bent to smell the sweet scent that rose from the petals, and he allowed a smile to crook up his own lips. “You have no idea, baby.”
Finally, their order arrived. While they ate, he casually dropped his hand down to rest on her leg under the table, an unconsciously possessive gesture, and he felt goose bumps pebble her skin as he lightly caressed the area directly above her knee. Her eyes rose to meet his, and he could see that she was aroused by the possibility that he might dare more here in this very public place. She took a bite of her meal, and he allowed his hand to slide up beneath the hem of her dress. She jerked in surprise, and he raised his eyebrows. He knew that she was torn over what to do. To stop him or to let him continue? He smiled when she didn’t protest.
He decided to push her farther and, after taking a bite of his own dinner, he trailed his fingers up higher to brush over her bare thigh. Her lips parted, and he said, “Take a sip of your wine, baby, and spread your legs for me.” She froze. His eyes focused on hers and, finally, she did as he had ordered. His hand moved even higher. “Wider, Emma.” She blushed, but he felt her legs shift again. His fingers brushed against the crotch of her panties, and she trembled. He withdrew his hand. He could feel her starting to relax, and he spoke again.
“Give me your panties, sweetheart.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “What?”
He nodded his head. “Do it. Give me your panties.”
Her face was a study in confused arousal, and Luke had to concentrate to keep his grin from breaking out. Would she do it? He thought so. She was reserved, but he was rapidly discovering that Emma had a wild side underneath.
After giving him a speaking glance, she started to rise, and his hand reached out to grip her wrist. “No. Do it here. At the table. No one can tell with the tablecloth. And the lights are so low. Do it now.”
“Nobody’s watching, baby. I promise. Take them off and put them into my hand.”
Darting a quick glance around, she began inching her skirt up. After several minutes of wiggling, she finally pressed the wadded up panties into his outstretched hand. Red lace. And damp. He grinned. He held them in a wadded up ball and slowly lifted them to his face. He inhaled deeply, and she flushed with embarrassment, refusing to meet his eyes. Satisfied with her reaction, he slid the panties into his jacket pocket. “Very good, sweetheart.”
He decided that they had done enough in this public arena. She was excited, and he wanted her to be aching and ready when they got back to the hotel later. He turned his attention to his meal and had to conceal a smile at the disappointment in her eyes that she couldn’t quite mask. “This etouffé is delicious, honey. How is your stuffed crab?”
It took her several seconds to respond, and he knew she had to gather her thoughts back to the mundane conversation he had initiated. Finally she said, “Good. It’s….ah….delicious.”
For the rest of the meal, he steered the conversation to some safe topics like the weather and their tastes in music, books, and movies. He was amazed at how easy it was to talk to her, how much they had in common despite the disparity in years. When the waiter arrived later to ask if they’d like coffee or dessert, he shook his head. “No, just the bill, please.”
After he had paid, they stood to leave. He reached down to pick up the rose she had set beside her plate. Handing it to her, he said, “Don’t forget this, beautiful.”
“No…no, I won’t. Thank you.”
On the drive back to the hotel, he pulled her against him, glad his rental car had a bench seat. Taking her hand in his, he pressed it into his lap over the erection straining at his pants. With his hand on top of hers, he began sliding their hands up and down, the friction on his cock very arousing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her bite her lip, but she didn’t pull away. After a few minutes, he removed his hand. She slanted a glance sideways at him, and he could tell she was a little hesitant, but finally her fingers began to move by themselves. She stroked his cock through the fabric of his pants, tentatively at first, but as she explored further, her touch became bolder. At last she reached for his belt, but he laid his hand on top of her. “No, baby. That’s enough. I don’t want to come. At least, not yet.”
They rode the elevator to his room in complete silence. They didn't touch, but the tension between them was so think you could cut it with a knife. When the elevator door opened, she tried to shake off the depression that had begun to fill her as she acknowledged to herself the reality of what they were doing, the temporary nature it. Luke seemed unaware that she was distracted. He tugged her down the hall, holding out his hand for the keycard. Shoving aside her thoughts, she put a smile on her face. Okay, so they didn’t have forever. She could still enjoy tonight. Right?
In moments they were inside the room, and Emma expected Luke to take her in his arms and kiss her. Instead he raised his hand to cup her cheek, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone. Staring up at him, she almost felt as though he were looking into her soul, as if there were some connection between them, something important, that she was missing. She brushed the thought aside. This was nothing but sex. Not some sort of spiritual connection. Just sex.
Luke pulled her further into the room. “Let’s slow this down a bit, sweetheart. Okay?” His hand caressed her face gently.
“Sure.” Determined to enjoy their time together, she took his hand and let him lead her across the room. Opening the sliding door, they stepped onto the balcony. The view was breathtaking. They moved up to the railing and stood looking out at the ocean. It was all so perfect, Emma thought to herself. She didn’t want to disturb the scene by making meaningless conversation. No, she wanted this night to be something she could look back on in the weeks and months ahead. A time out of time. A time when she did something wholly for herself. Something slightly wicked. Something slightly wrong. Something slightly incredible.
Emma recalled standing in the same exact spot the night before, wallowing in her misery. What a difference twenty-four hours had made. And it was all thanks to meeting this man. Now here she was, able to appreciate the salty tang of the ocean as she drew in a deep breath and to admire the way the lights glistened off the white caps. She stepped closer to Luke, leaning her head against his shoulder, and his arm reached out to pull her tight against him. He was so beautiful, like a young hero from one of the fairy stories she read to her daughter. For a while they stood there, neither one saying anything.
When the tap came on the door, he kissed the top of her head and walked back inside. She stayed where she was, turning her face back to the Gulf and the glittering lights of the shrimp boats she could see in the distance. A few couples strolled hand in hand below her on the sand. Lifting the rose she still held, she stroked it lightly over her cheek, the sweet smell wafting to her on the ocean air. A step sounded behind her right before an arm wrapped around her and a wine glass was pressed into her hand. As Luke leaned on the railing, she lifted the glass for a sip. He took a drink of his own.
“So….still no personal information, Emma?” His voice held a coaxing tone. When they had met the night before, she had insisted that they keep all personal information to a minimum. He had reluctantly agreed.
She took another sip, relishing the sweet taste. “No. Nothing personal, Luke.”
“Well…I already have a lot of…personal information.”
She laughed. “Do tell.”
He set his glass on the small café table that stood in the corner and moved behind her, gently stroking down her shoulders. “Well,” his voice drawled in her ear, “I know that your neck is very, very sensitive. That’s personal.” He brushed her hair across one shoulder and bent to kiss the side of her throat, dragging his tongue against her pulse. She shivered, her eyelids half closing with the pleasure. “And I know that your nipples are a pretty shade of pink and but turn a darker rose when you’re aroused.” His hands moved to cup under her breasts, squeezing and massaging them through the fabric of her dress before finally rubbing across the nipples, pinching them and rolling them in between his finger. She moaned. “Oh, yes….that’s very personal.”
His hands began to crawl down over her stomach, pulling the skirt of her dress higher and higher, bunching it in his hands until it was gathered at her waist. “And baby, I know this little pussy of yours tastes exactly like honey.” His hand slid down, pushing between the moist folds of her cunt, stroking and stroking over her clit and pressing up into her tight tunnel.
He raised his hand up to his mouth. She could hear him sucking his fingers. “Oh, yes. Personal, baby. Very, very personal.” He turned her around and drew her against him, taking her mouth in a long kiss, and she tasted her cum on him. “And I think you know some personal things about me also, don’t you?” he asked, breaking the kiss.
“So tell me. Tell me something personal you know about me, sweetheart.”
She swallowed hard, struggling to string together a coherent thought. What did she know? “You’re….ah…” He kissed her neck.
“Yeah, baby? I’m…”
He laughed. “True. What else…?"
He lightly bit the lobe of her ear, tugging gently. “Ahh…..ah…..you’re a tease,” she finally said.
Another laugh. “Absolutely, baby. And you like it. That’s something else personal I know about you, isn’t it? You know what else you know about me?”
“No, what?” She could barely think as his tongue traced around the lobes of her ear.
“Ummm…you know how my kiss tastes. And what my cock feels like inside you. And what I look like when I come. Pretty personal stuff, Emma. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“You know I like things a little wild, a little…unconventional sometimes. And you know I like women with long blonde hair that ripples in the moonlight and eyes that melt when they are aroused. And yet…you won’t even tell me where you live, or work?”
“I…I…” His mouth closed over hers in a long, sweet kiss.
He broke the kiss. “Well, maybe once you learn some more…personal…things about me, you’ll feel comfortable enough to share some of that personal information about yourself, hmm….?”
“Maybe…” She whispered against his mouth, and pressed forward for another kiss. She didn’t want to think. She wanted to feel.
His mouth opened wide, and his tongue slid across hers. His hands stroked down her back to clutch at her hips, forcing her closer against him. She moaned her approval into his mouth. He caught her bottom lip between his teeth and tugged before sucking on it gently, soothing the imagined hurt. She reached to slide her hands up his chest, but the rose in her hand got in the way. He pulled back, taking the rose from her. He pressed a soft kiss on the fragrant petals and rubbed it across her cheek.
Her lips parted and he drew it across them, following their outline with the bloom and making her lips throb with need. “Luke, kiss me.”
“I will, Emma.” But he didn’t. Instead he used the rose to trace over the features of her face slowly. With each brush, her skin seems more sensitive, more responsive.
The rose stroked down her throat and along the neckline of her sundress. She closed her eyes and whimpered. He traced back and forth several times until she could feel her nipples tighten into hard nubs. She felt a gentle tugging at the zipper on the back of her dress. When she opened her eyes, the bodice loosened, and Luke pushed the straps from her shoulders. Their eyes met, and his dropped, and she could see the appreciation as he looked at her bare breasts with their taut peaks. As always when he looked at her naked body, she was even more conscious of their age difference, of what she must look like next to his sleek young flesh. But he didn’t let her dwell on such thoughts for long.
He took the rose and again drew it softly across the skin of her upper breasts and around. Over and over again, he circled closer and closer to the nipples, teasing and taunting her, until their ages were the very last thing on her mind. She licked her lips and thrust her breasts forward, trying to entice his touch, his mouth, his hand, anything. Finally he bent and took one hard nipple between his lips, and she raised her hands to clasp them around his head, holding him against her.
Luke couldn’t help smiling to himself even as he suckled Emma’s breast. Ah, yes, she liked this. Her breasts were very sensitive. He’d noticed it before. He pulled away and smiled down at her, dropping another kiss on her moist lips. Reaching around, he tugged the zipper of her dress down even more, and her eyes widened. He knew that she had probably figured out that he wanted to strip her nude out here on the balcony. They were pretty high up, and the danger of their being seen was very, very slim. But still, there was a slight chance that someone on another nearby balcony could see them. She looked around for a moment, as if to reassure herself they had at least a semblance of privacy.
He put his hands on her hips, waiting a moment to allow her to stop him if she wished. When she did nothing but look at him, he pushed the waist of her dress down and over her hips, and it fell with a quiet shush onto the floor. Kneeling down in front of her, he took the rose he had bought her. Starting at the top of her foot, he drew it up her leg, slowly, across the ankle, over her calf and thigh, to the top of her hip. He heard her whimper as it briefly brushed across her pussy. He took the flower into his left hand and repeated the same pattern with the other leg.
“Luke.” He heard her whisper his name, heard the need in her voice. He ignored her pleading and continued to tease her, stroking her stomach, the indentation of her belly button, the underside of her breasts.
He stood, dragging the flower up the inside of her right leg, higher and higher, until he arrived at the neatly trimmed hair that protected her pussy. He watched her closely as he brushed the soft petals back and forth over her. She bit her lips, trying to hold back another whimper, her eyes never leaving his. God, she was gorgeous. Her eyes half closed as he inched the rose higher, across the curve of her stomach, up between her breasts, back up her throat to her mouth. He held it against her lips.
“Kiss it,” he told her.
She did, parting her lips over the soft pink petal, and he saw her tongue flicking out to caress it. He felt himself harden even more, if that was possible, when he saw that tempting tip. He dropped the rose onto the table and slid his hand back down until he sank his fingers into the moist folds of her pussy. Finding her clit, he began stroking it with his thumb as he pressed his middle finger into her. “Fuck, Emma, I love the way you feel.” She gasped as his finger penetrated her deeply. “You’re always so ready for me, baby.”
“I’m so close, Luke.”
“Good, I want you to come for me, baby. Come while I watch you.” His fingers worked her, faster and faster. “Come while you stare into my eyes.” He was rough and hard. He knew he was moving too fast, but he wanted her to come so fucking badly. He needed to feel it. To hear it. To see it.
So he continued rubbing and stroking until he felt her tightening around his finger, and she gasped out, “Damn, Luke, damn, I…I…oh…” He kissed her, catching her cry in his mouth as she came.
When her knees gave out, he bent to pick her up. He entered the room, placing her gently on the bed. She lay spread temptingly before him, and he couldn’t wait any longer. He threw his clothes off, rolled on a condom, spread her legs, and pushed inside.
He fucked her fast and furiously, with no finesse. In a few short strokes he could feel his balls drawing up. Stroking faster and harder, her legs tightened around his hips. He shouted out as his orgasm exploded from him.
Falling to the side, he pulled her with him, still sheathed in her body, not wanting to disconnect from her. They lay snuggled together, and he relished the quiet moment, filled with nothing but the sound of their breathing, ragged at first, but gradually slowing, and the echoes of the waves coming from the nearby shore. After a while, he suspected that she had fallen asleep. The regular pace of her breaths and the limpness of her figure confirmed it.
When they woke the next morning, their bodies entwined, Luke asked again. “So, can we get personal now?”
She smiled. “Yes. Let’s get very, very personal.”