Still Life With Taylor
folder
Individual Celebrities › Vin Diesel
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
18
Views:
1,836
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Individual Celebrities › Vin Diesel
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
18
Views:
1,836
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. I do not know Vin Diesel. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
17
::SEVENTEEN::
He kisses me, maybe to stop me from saying anything. What could either of us say anyways? There are things that just are because they are. Fate. They can't be explained, and maybe shouldn't be. So he kisses me. Sometimes it's better to just be quiet. It's not complicated.
Run the water in the tub. Hot. Scent of beeswax, honey, sandalwood. If I was another woman, I might question why he would ask me to run a candlelit bath at nearly midnight. But I'm not another woman. Stop the water, or it will never hold us both.
Nothing but flickering candlelight, the occasional beam of a passing car below, crossing the ceiling. The hollow water drop sound, that strange echo, that only an old claw foot bathtub can make. Let her slowly undress me, her hands running lightly over me. Help her with her shirt, her jeans. She's beautiful in this light. Her skin pale gold, her nipples dark. Watch as she puts her hair up, before getting into the tub, gasping a little at the heat.
She stays kneeling, in front of me, the water just a couple of inches from the top. Reaches back for soap, hers, smells like cedar, and thyme, and washes every inch of me, starting at the feet and working her way up. If it was up to me, she would have stopped at my dick, but she won't, just that flash of green gold in her eyes, mischief, as she teases me, washing the rest of me, right down to the fingertips.
Waiting for a half second, before taking me in her two small soapy hands. Close my eyes, put my head back, my hands behind my head. Long deep strokes, with both hands, constant motion, slow, the pressure maddening. One hand cups my balls, a gentle squeeze, at first, the stroke quickening. It's killing me to stay still for this, but I don't want her to stop either. Hot lead weight in my belly, as she quickens the stroke. Everything in me just wants to be inside her, but I don't want her to stop. She releases my balls, I want to scream, slides her soapy hand back over my perineum. My hips buck under her, splashing water everywhere, as I come. She leans in, licking a drop off my chest, before kissing me.
She comes up on her knees, out of the water, letting my slip my hand between her thighs. Wet. That low growl, driving me crazy. Pull the plug on the tub, lifting her out at the same time in one motion.
Lift her up to my waist, breath in the scent of her, still hot from the bath. Carry her to bed, her arms around my neck. Lie her back, kneel between her thighs. She's beautiful to watch, her hair, loose, a dark swirl behind her. Her throat flushed, slightly, one hand flung out, the other resting on her belly. That soft smile, waiting for me.
Play with her curls, before sliding back, sliding over her slick entrance, the muscles pulling back on finger as I withdraw.
"You're so wet.."
Slip my finger in her mouth before I kiss her, the gentle suction making me twitch. Lowering between her thighs. Her hips already arching up to mine, a small whimper of need, from her or me, I can't be sure.
Fight to be slow. Feel her shudder at the end of every stroke. If I could go slower, I would, just to hear her moan like that. That low deep moan, that goes right to the heart of me. The gasp at the end, an animal cry, as her hips rise up to mine. I could get lost in that sound, her breath coming faster, her cries more insistent, but I stay slow, feeling her frustration, her madness, build beneath me. Wait til she's nearly screaming, and then, and only then, let her set her pace. Close my eyes, bury my face in her neck, as she cries out, her hips rising to meet me, urging me faster, harder.
Take my face out of her neck, so I can watch her come. Her back arched, her throat a pink flush, racing down past her breasts to her belly. Her hips buck up, a deep inner flutter of muscle, gripping hard and releasing, again and again. Only then do I let go, add my wetness to hers. Her last cries torn loose, as she cries out my name.
"Look at me.."
Her eyes are the brightest green I've ever seen. I had once said that she wasn't exactly pretty. She's not. She's beautiful. Maybe not in a way everybody would see, but maybe only for me.
He kisses me, maybe to stop me from saying anything. What could either of us say anyways? There are things that just are because they are. Fate. They can't be explained, and maybe shouldn't be. So he kisses me. Sometimes it's better to just be quiet. It's not complicated.
Run the water in the tub. Hot. Scent of beeswax, honey, sandalwood. If I was another woman, I might question why he would ask me to run a candlelit bath at nearly midnight. But I'm not another woman. Stop the water, or it will never hold us both.
Nothing but flickering candlelight, the occasional beam of a passing car below, crossing the ceiling. The hollow water drop sound, that strange echo, that only an old claw foot bathtub can make. Let her slowly undress me, her hands running lightly over me. Help her with her shirt, her jeans. She's beautiful in this light. Her skin pale gold, her nipples dark. Watch as she puts her hair up, before getting into the tub, gasping a little at the heat.
She stays kneeling, in front of me, the water just a couple of inches from the top. Reaches back for soap, hers, smells like cedar, and thyme, and washes every inch of me, starting at the feet and working her way up. If it was up to me, she would have stopped at my dick, but she won't, just that flash of green gold in her eyes, mischief, as she teases me, washing the rest of me, right down to the fingertips.
Waiting for a half second, before taking me in her two small soapy hands. Close my eyes, put my head back, my hands behind my head. Long deep strokes, with both hands, constant motion, slow, the pressure maddening. One hand cups my balls, a gentle squeeze, at first, the stroke quickening. It's killing me to stay still for this, but I don't want her to stop either. Hot lead weight in my belly, as she quickens the stroke. Everything in me just wants to be inside her, but I don't want her to stop. She releases my balls, I want to scream, slides her soapy hand back over my perineum. My hips buck under her, splashing water everywhere, as I come. She leans in, licking a drop off my chest, before kissing me.
She comes up on her knees, out of the water, letting my slip my hand between her thighs. Wet. That low growl, driving me crazy. Pull the plug on the tub, lifting her out at the same time in one motion.
Lift her up to my waist, breath in the scent of her, still hot from the bath. Carry her to bed, her arms around my neck. Lie her back, kneel between her thighs. She's beautiful to watch, her hair, loose, a dark swirl behind her. Her throat flushed, slightly, one hand flung out, the other resting on her belly. That soft smile, waiting for me.
Play with her curls, before sliding back, sliding over her slick entrance, the muscles pulling back on finger as I withdraw.
"You're so wet.."
Slip my finger in her mouth before I kiss her, the gentle suction making me twitch. Lowering between her thighs. Her hips already arching up to mine, a small whimper of need, from her or me, I can't be sure.
Fight to be slow. Feel her shudder at the end of every stroke. If I could go slower, I would, just to hear her moan like that. That low deep moan, that goes right to the heart of me. The gasp at the end, an animal cry, as her hips rise up to mine. I could get lost in that sound, her breath coming faster, her cries more insistent, but I stay slow, feeling her frustration, her madness, build beneath me. Wait til she's nearly screaming, and then, and only then, let her set her pace. Close my eyes, bury my face in her neck, as she cries out, her hips rising to meet me, urging me faster, harder.
Take my face out of her neck, so I can watch her come. Her back arched, her throat a pink flush, racing down past her breasts to her belly. Her hips buck up, a deep inner flutter of muscle, gripping hard and releasing, again and again. Only then do I let go, add my wetness to hers. Her last cries torn loose, as she cries out my name.
"Look at me.."
Her eyes are the brightest green I've ever seen. I had once said that she wasn't exactly pretty. She's not. She's beautiful. Maybe not in a way everybody would see, but maybe only for me.