Talk To Me Like The Rain and Let Me Listen

Layla stretched out upon Egyptian cotton sheets and purred like a sated feline. Niccolo ran one long finger across the flesh between her legs and watched her arch. Truly a pussycat, this one, he thought.

Her secretive smile caused his groin to tighten and ache. She was a miracle of sensual beauty. A woman who would do all a man wanted; decadent, hedonistic things. With her hands. Her mouth. Just touching her breasts made him hard. Sinking into the sweet heat of her body was beyond ecstasy.

His fingers slid inside her moist flesh, flexing as she writhed. The smile never left her face and her eyes sparkled beneath half-closed lids.

"More!" Her murmur was an aphrodisiac. He pushed her onto her back, spread her legs and leaned down to taste. With lips and tongue he thoroughly explored her cunt. He repeatedly brought her to the edge of orgasm before her entreaties led him to take pity on her.

Thrusting his unbearably hard cock deep into her, he fucked her hard, watching her face as he did so. When she spasmed around him he redoubled his efforts. The sensation of her flesh clenching on his spurred him on.

"You are made for fucking, Layla. You feel incredible."

"More, Niccolo!"

"Your pussy is joy - I could stay in you forever. I dream of sleeping with my cock inside you, feeling you tight as a glove around me. "

"Oh, Niccolo - talk to me! Talk to me like the rain .... drown me in your words ... like the clouds have opened and I am soaked and wet and slick .... cover me with your voice!"

Her voluptuous voice and her breathless panting stroked him and he plundered her flesh maddened like a beast. Uncontrollable with desire. He wanted to consume her.

Then he broke like a thunderstorm, the lightening of pleasure smashing through his body until his cum flooded inside her, hot, liquid. He filled her with his life force and reveled in the joining of their bodies in the brutal, boisterous act.

Afterward, they lay entwined as the gauzy curtains wafted in the evening breeze off the water. Layla was limp beneath him, her heart beating a steady rhythm beneath his chest. Her spirit was strong. Her appetites voracious. Yet her skin was silken and her hands gentle.

"Sit up," she whispered against his lips. He rolled to his side and sat up on the edge of the bed as she slid off and down between his legs.

Her gaze on his semi-erect cock - he was never fully soft around Layla - was one of hunger and yearning.

She leaned over and ran her tongue up the length, suckled the broad head, her tongue tickling his slit. Sucking him deep once and then twice, she looked up at him and licked her lips where a smile played.

She paused in her suckling to smile up at him.

"Talk to me, Niccolo....talk to me like the rain and let me listen."