1. Persephone in Winter - Chapter 4/11


    Date: 1/16/2015, Categories: Wife Lovers, Author: Night_Writer, Rating: 8, Source: LushStories

    stopped, pinning her to the bed. Her eyes fluttered and closed. Her lips formed a small, satisfied smile. She had taken all of him - from the hard, blunt tip nestled snugly against her cervix, to the thick, flaring root that ground against her as his hips pressed into her in small, firm circles under his body's weight. She whimpered when he pulled out suddenly, surprised by the emptiness in her belly. She opened her eyes again, squinting in the bright light. He knelt between her legs, his lean stomach and broad chest gleaming with sweat. The aura that surrounded him burned with shifting color, now pulsing violently with vibrant reds and glowing violets. His penis seemed immense as it jutted in the air over her, growing longer and thicker as though reflected in a funhouse mirror. The room was spinning. She closed her eyes. The bed seemed to fall away, leaving her floating above it, weightless and calm. He was turning her, rolling her onto her belly. His hands were cool, his grasp firm against her naked thighs. She drew her knees under her, offering her ass to him. What she needed came quickly - his strong hands spreading her, then the hot, blunt presence against the entrance, pressing forward slowly, boring into her, deep enough to awaken flesh untouched by any other. The sensation of the cord about her wrists, the cool sheet against her face, the sting of the fullness invading her, all melted into the single essence of what she had become. No longer wife, nor woman, nor ...
    even flesh - only need and desire, desperate to be possessed, to be taken by hands that would reduce her to nothing, a zero, dissolving her demons in a sudden rush of Simon's scalding sperm as it bathed her bowels. The skillful caress of his fingers between her legs sent her into a welcome abyss, falling and floating at the same time through explosions of warmth and color, her own cries echoing in the distance as though they were the urgent calls of some primitive wild animal. Then the darkness arrived, a luscious cradle that closed in around her, sucking away her flesh with a delicious, persistent embrace that slowly consumed her until only the lush fullness deep in her belly remained. Finally it too faded, the encroaching blackness stealing even the nothingness she had become, until it swallowed everything that remained. *** The car had become a prison for him. An hour passed, then two, and finally a third. He should do something - go in after her, confront the man that took her inside, insist she return with him to their own home, to their own bed. Why had he allowed this in the first place? What kind of man gives his wife to a stranger, and then waits for him to finish with her? Her face haunted him, so youthful when they met, and even now, years later, it still cheated the passage of time. She remained an innocent Lolita with the body of a mature, ripe woman. He knew men desired her. He saw them look, listened to their suggestive banter at parties, cloaked in the feeblest ...
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