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I admire it for a moment. A long length of thickly coiled shadow. Wispy at the edges. Dense enough to be solid at the core.

Maybe I would be alarmed if I had lots of cock sucking experience. But since it’s all new to me, one learning curve seems much like another.

I stick out my tongue, lean forward, and try an experimental lick.

The wispy, slowly swirling shadows surrounding his cock, tingle against my tongue. A bit like sticking my tongue into cotton candy. My tongue passes through the fizz and finds smooth satin. Hotter than the rest of him. Warm and delicious, silky and addictive.

I shuffle closer on my knees, place my hands on his hips, solid and real under the shadowy mist of him.

Then I feast. I run my tongue up and down. Around and over. Tasting and exploring every single inch of him. Mapping every ridge and texture and committing it to memory.

I lick up to his tip, open my mouth and take as much of him as I can. The heavy weight of him gliding over my tongue is exquisite. The stretch of my jaw is divine. My head bobs and the feel of his satin heated smoothness rubbing over my swollen lips is pure ecstasy.

I moan. A lewd, obscene sound that lays all my carnal pleasure bare. And I don’t care at all. I want him to know how much I’m enjoying this. Want him to know that this is my new favourite thing. I was born for this, and now I’ve discovered it, I want to do it every single day.

I take him deeper. Push myself down and exult in the sensation of him sliding into my throat and filling it. I swallow around him, muscles contracting and releasing, squeezing him and making the fit even tighter.

He hardens in my mouth. Pulses. Hot wetness gushes down my throat. He either tastes of nothing, or he’s so far down, he’s past my taste buds.

He pulls me off and up so fast my head spins, but there is no time to gasp because his lips are over mine and he is kissing me passionately. Devouring me like I just devoured him.

Suddenly we are on a double airbed. I don’t know whose it is and I don’t much care. The only thing that matters is that I’m on my side, face to face with Dark and he’s doing terrible things to my tongue.

I moan and wriggle closer. I left my leg and throw it over his hip so I can get as close as possible.

My jeans appear to have vanished. As have my underwear. And that’s just fine by me, whether it was magic or simply me being too lost in the moment to register getting undressed.

Cool tendrils of shadows brush over my hole. The sensation shoots through me, all the way to my toes which curl in response, and all the way up to the top of my head, where it morphs into a moan and a rush of giddiness.

I whimper and cling to him, still kissing hungrily, while he opens me up slowly, gently, teasingly.

“Dark!” I cry out.

He finally shows mercy and notches his cock against my entrance. I squirm with heated anticipation.

He eases in. Sliding smoothly, easily inside me. He’s made himself smaller, much smaller, and I want to protest, but I’m too busy wailing in ecstasy.

He burrows deep, hips flush against mine, still facing each other side by side on the airbed.

Deep inside me, he thickens. Grows. Becoming bigger in girth. Stretching me wide from the inside.

I throw my head back and yell with unbridled glee.

Then he rocks his hips. Carefully, softly, a barely-there movement. His lips scatter kisses over my neck.

He rocks. Slowly, sensuously. Languorously. Making love rather than fucking. Tender and sweet. Maddening and divine.

All my nerve endings are alight. My body is on fire with pleasure, but his graceful movements are not enough to tip me over the edge, but far too much to allow me to come down. The pleasure swirls and twists, driving me high but not allowing me to soar.

I sob and writhe, face wet with tears. Braced for eternity of this exquisite torture.

My orgasm builds and builds. Each shallow thrust a new storm cloud added to the brewing hurricane.

But then suddenly, it bubbles over, and it’s not a hurricane at all. It’s gentle summer rain rolling over the savannah. Immense and inescapable, but not ferocious. Nourishing and inevitable. Heavy and powerful. Soaking everything, filling every dip, valley, and dry stream bed of my soul, and rolling on and on and on.

Dark shudders and rumbles, a crash of thunder. He pulses inside me, hot and wet, and then the summer rain rolls away.

I draw in a deep breath. Exhale. I’m tingling all over. Warm and content. Fully satisfied.