1. Searing heat and dexterous feet


    Date: 8/23/2015, Categories: Fetish, Author: Alexandra_A, Rating: 3, Source: LushStories

    The wooden ladle felt rough between my swim-softened fingers, its grain swollen by the constant claustrophobic heat. I scooped water then drizzled it in sparkling dancing droplets that momentarily blackened the sizzling coals. A hot wave, a sensual sirocco, descended on me, taking my breath, melting my tingling skin into salty rivulets. I climbed. Hot wooden boards pressed into my buttocks. Feet eschewed the seat below to dangle in the hellish air, while trembling palms rested on smooth naked thighs. I hung my head and dared myself to breathe. Deep. Deeper. I watched my breasts stretch the skimpy bikini top till the twin areolic rings were clearly delineated, though my nipples had somehow softened and sunk without trace into their tight, tanned orbs, leaving not a hint of their normally pert presence on the glistening crimson cloth. I rocked on my sitting bones, allowed my spine to relax, align and straighten, till my head floated atop the resulting delicately-swaying jenga of cartilage and bone. Closing my eyes, I breathed out, encouraged my tired, knotted muscles to lengthen and release, my grating, aching joints to open and separate. While my young though exhausted body bathed in the bliss of the blistering heat, my typically lively mind gently approached an unlikely euphoric quietude. A rush of cool air accompanied the clicking of the door catch. The catch clicked again; feet padded softly. One, two, three. Directly opposite me and beneath me, boards creaked to ...
    accommodate the newcomer's rear. The laboured breath hinted at both the sex and age of the intruder. The voice's timbre confirmed my twin conjectures, the refined accent adding colourful overtones all of its own. 'Young lady, may I add a ladle?' With lips alone, I smiled; the accompanying affirmative nod caused sweat to drip from my shuttered lashes. I heard him fumble wood against wood, heard the water's sizzling transformation into steam, and felt the resultant cloak of almost unbearable heat descend upon me, scorching my nostrils and burning my throat. Sweat prickled, trickled, rose from the roots of my short spiky hair and meandered across my tingling scalp. With the back of a slick hand, I swept a sticky fringe from my forehead. Sparks danced behind my eyelids; the world rocked then righted. I breathed again, gingerly drawing fiery air into my depths. A sudden wave of nausea swept through me. Inexplicably, I shivered and almost painfully, my nipples puckered up. With claw-like fingers, I quickly reached across my body and absently massaged my left shoulder, thus hiding my embarrassingly poking teats from the stranger's gaze. However, with my every minute movement, they chafed uncomfortably, the tight Lycra stimulating the habitually-sensitive tips and thus prolonging my unfortunate predicament. Again I heard his gentle, hoarse breath, registered his subtle surprise, and awaited the words I somehow knew would follow. 'My dear, may I be so bold as to say you have the most ...
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