Copyright J. J. South 2010. All rights reserved.
`Paradise' Part One
Small waves swell and roll and froth to and fro over the rippled sand, their quiet chorus joining in splendid harmony with gentle rustlings of palm fronds on the fitful rushes of soft breezes. Occasional splashes of disturbed baitfish sound distantly, fluttering the water's surface with moon-speckled ripples. Farther out, lying to the breeze, the yacht rides at anchor, bathed in the silvery sheen of the moon glow shimmering across the surface of the lagoon. Sweet aromas of frangipanis and wild orchids and poincianas and magnolias float on the breezes, such symphony of nature reaching us thrashing and writhing in our wild, passionate embraces on the lustrous talcum sand.
Bathed in the brilliant moon glow of the warm tropical night, our bodies appear painted in monotones of silvers, grays, greens and black, of brilliant glosses and intense contrasting shadows. Their patterns and tones change violently to the chaos of our love moves, to the devouring, uncontrollable intoxications of our passions. We clench in an orgy of fervent desires and ferocious overpowering emotions. Our lips ram our faces, our tongues scrimmage in the ruckus of our superheated ardor. Amid our wild scrambling gropes and parched deep breathing, we squeeze our bodies brutally, clinching our torsos in breath-crushing bear hugs. Amid our musky sweat and other rich aromas of our manliness, we entwine our legs and arms in ecstatic responses to the chemistry of our love potions. We wrestle and squirm in sublime torture in our attempts to reach, what I consider, the impossible: Nirvana, that plinth of love, that unattainable Paradise of complete, everlasting emotional fulfillment, that Eldorado of sublime, idyllic bliss. Our groins collide in angry Nirvanic desire, our eyes blaze to the savagery of our fiery torment. Our bodies madly lunge and crunch to the furor of the approaching pinnacle of our love, of approaching sex, to the expectations of our super-heated excitement.
I tremble violently in my burning anticipation. My mind is consumed, boiling in the blazing eroticism of our love. Emotions are overwhelmed in the tumultuous whirlpools of wild chemicals and charging electricity. As if possible, I clench my lover tighter, rolling and twisting in ever escalating spirals of explosive love. Cradling his head, I scramble kisses over his lips and cheeks and chin and nose and forehead and ears and neck in frantic outpourings of my rampant passions. We gasp between our noisy, panting kisses, his frenzied legs flay mine, his wild arms roam my back, sharp fingernails leaving trails marking his Utopian ecstasy. We batter our engorged cocks into our bellies, sliding, rubbing and humping them in orgiastic delight. The mounting pleasurable flushes, those exotic sensations, intensify in my cock as our smoldering hot love rods touch. My brain jolts to the thrill of that unbelievable male phenomenon, to that singularly exceptional male pleasure when the velvet soft flesh of one hot quivering cock touches and rubs and lies against a similar rampant cock.
That distinct, beyond-blissful sensation is only surpassed by the sudden surges that whip my body in furies of agitated excitement when I vice-grip both cocks together. The feelings from these unique experiences send our sensory systems into fireballs, cause us to buck our heads, wince our eyes and howl in wild ecstatic glee. Oh god, I'm in heaven riding a cyclone of delicious, voluptuous emotions. I hold his face in both hands as I smash a kiss to his lips and seek his tongue. He touches me; he touches my super sensitive dick, grappling it in his hand, making me lurch, making me hump as more unexpected divine pleasures course through me. I yelp to the delights. His other hand engrosses my chest, roams over my tweaked nups, then his lips covet them in his indulgent desires. When I open my eyes I see vague visions of the moon overhead, filtered in a morass of kaleidoscopic colors. Silvered tones of reds and greens and blues and yellows parade in front of my eyes.
I know I've been to the doorstep of nirvana before, been to the threshold of absolute love. I've been close to that feeling of total fulfillment at times, but never as close as I am with Rick at this moment on this beach, bathed in the romantic charm of the moon's silver glow. I can't love him any more than I do yet my heart feels an earnest desire to love him more; I can't give more yet my body yearns to. He consumes my life, my will and passion. I live with the constant thoughts of him in my mind; he is like a god in my life, a god I constantly worship.
I want him in me. My mind is ruled by a demanding need to have our love and bodies combine into the union of one. I need his love tool in me, need him making glorious love to me, to feel bonded in the wonder of the union of sex, to have my love tunnel filled with his supreme gift, to eventually feel his hot sperm spurt deep within me. All night I've wanted him but now it's a matter of urgent demand. I want to feel the motions of his love contenting me, making me adequate, making me worthy of his love, making me know he loves me, that our sexual coupling is the zenith of our passions. I want him to take me to Nirvana.
My trembling hands fidget on his shoulders, my head again arches to the starless night sky, my eyes filter the moon's glare, as his tongue continues driving me crazy. I face him, words forming in my parched throat.
"Rick, do it," I croak, "now." I demand.
It's a simple request, frank and to the point; but it carries the meaning of my burning, frustrated emotions. He responds. His eyes tell me. His nimble gentle hands tell me. His passionate tongue and kisses tell me. He makes gentle, exquisite love to me; I'm in heaven.
Chemicals boil in my brain. Electrical currents pulse my nerves. My heart pumps chaotically as my head thumps to the raging energies circuiting my body's systems. I become a demented, love charged, hormonally haywire basket case. Goosebumps ripple my flesh in erotic tingling reaction to the effects the tip of his roaming tongue and lips have on me as they wind their way along the defines of my acutely sensitive belly and groin. His tongue courses beside my fiery red love pole lying flat against my abdomen, then meanders its scintillating way to torture my scrotum. He licks my balls, sending new floods of spasms through my over-heated senses.
He sucks one ball into his mouth, playing his tongue over and around the sac. Tremors of sheer delight cascade through my groin as he twirls the ball in his mouth. Then he licks the other ball and sucks it into his mouth, causing more quivers to my body as his tongue discovers more highly sensitive membranes. Without warning, he devours my scrotum. He squeezes and suctions my bloated ball sac in a cushion of saliva in his hot mouth, teasing both balls with his tongue while his nose nuzzles the prominent urethra of my steel hard dick. I gulp and shiver.
"Ooohhh Rick," I groan. His saliva-slicked tongue feels like the faintest caresses of duck down feathering the contours of my sensitive sac.
"Rick," I yell amid the loud mutterings of animal grunts. He's causing a storm of hot rushes of exquisite ecstasy in my groin. My legs scissor-grip his body, trembling hands violently clench and slap the blanket while my arched head tosses wildly in a rapturous, sweaty state of bliss.
His nose slides lightly along my twitching love pole. Then his tongue reaches and darts over the base of the shaft, his delicate touch further inflaming the furnace blazing my nerves. In quick reflex, my dick jerks wildly into his face, splattering precum into his hair. It slams back against my groin, flicking precum onto my belly that glosses in the moonlight. His tongue slides along the full length of my semen tract. Its tip reaches and skims sensuously around the almost unbearably sensitive underside of the glans causing hysteria to my senses. Black spots appear before my eyes. He's tormenting me into unconsciousness as he licks my over-bloated cock head.
Kneeling over me, he uses his bottom lip and chin to steady my vibrating shaft as he stretches his tongue around my head, smearing precum and saliva over it, super sensitizing it in the smooth lubricating ambrosial liqueur. Then he licks my shaft again and again, starting at the base and ending at the knob. Each time he tickles the knob his tongue picks up a string of the ambrosia which he stretches to the base, letting the cum line fall and slick my shaft. He repeatedly licks my pole like an all-day sucker. He licks the sides, alternating from one to the other, licking the head each stroke, causing precum to puddle in my navel, glimmering silver under the moon. Every time he licks he picks up a strand of precum on his tongue and stretches it to my pubes. It looks funny and odd. My dick feels ready to explode. It feels sore from the prolonged love games and highly pressurized blood. I can't believe it; it feels over extended, super swollen, stiff for too long. It needs relief, but I don't want to cum, not yet.
"Rick," I croak. I clear my throat. "Rick," I repeat, my plea more convincing, mussing his hair with trembling hand. "Please, Rick, please," grappling his arms and pulling him to me. "No more, please no more. I can't take it, my beautiful man," whispering hoarsely into his ear. "Rick. Please. Now, baby," I beg him.
I hope you enjoyed reading `Paradise' Part One. I'll post Part Two within a few days.
I welcome you to leave comments at lovewriter33@gmail.com
Kindly
Justin South