The Heat of Arrival
The bedroom glowed with the soft amber of late afternoon, sunlight spilling through sheer curtains, casting delicate shadows across the floor. Searán stood near the bed, her pulse quickening, her outfit a carefully chosen blend of allure and comfort: tight jeans that hugged her curves, a floral blouse with ruffles cascading down the front, and a pale cardigan draped over her shoulders. Beneath, black lace knickers. Richard faced her, his casual jeans and t-shirt doing little to hide the strength of his frame, his eyes burning with a desire that matched her own.
Weeks of sexting had led them here, their connection forged through late-night messages, teasing words, and provocative images that had stoked a fire neither could extinguish. Now, in the flesh, the air between them crackled with anticipation.
Richard closed the distance, his hands finding her cardigan, slipping it off with a tenderness that contrasted the hunger in his gaze. The fabric pooled on the floor, and Searán responded, tugging his t-shirt over his head, revealing the broad planes of his chest. His skin was warm, carrying a faint cedar scent that made her lean closer.
Their lips met in a kiss that began softly but quickly deepened, all heat and need. Searán felt his fingers at her blouse, unbuttoning it with deft precision. Arousal stirred within her, a warm ache spreading as his touch grazed her skin. Her hands explored his back, tracing the taut muscles, grounding herself in his solidity as her heart raced.
Halfway through unbuttoning her blouse, Richard’s mouth left hers, trailing kisses down her jaw, along the sensitive curve of her neck, and onto the tops of her breasts, now partially exposed. Searán gasped, her fingers tightening on his back, the sensation sparking through her like electricity.
He eased her blouse off, letting it fall, and his hands slid to her back, caressing her spine, her waist. Searán’s hands wandered lower, cupping his arse through his jeans, pulling him against her. She could feel him, swollen and hard, the bulge in his jeans matching what she had seen in their messages. His cock felt large, ready to pleasure her, the thought sent a thrill through her, mingling with the heat pooling between her thighs.
Richard’s fingers found her bra clasp, undoing it with ease. Searán shrugged it off, and his hands were on her breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples, followed by his lips, teasing with gentle suction and flicks of his tongue. The pleasure was sharp, intoxicating, and Searán surrendered to it, her moans soft in the quiet room.
The Edge of Desire
Topless, they pressed together, skin to skin, their kisses hungry, hands groping and caressing. Searán’s fingers dug into Richard’s shoulders, then slid to his jeans, seeking more. His hands mirrored hers, pausing at the front of her jeans, a silent question in his touch.
She answered by unbuttoning his jeans, tugging the zipper down. The denim fell, and her breath caught—he wore no underwear, his cock springing free, large and firm, its length and girth even more striking than in the photos he’d sent. Searán stared, a mix of awe and nervous excitement tightening her chest. One hell of a cock, she thought, wondering if her body could handle him, if she’d be stretched to her limits.
Richard’s eyes darkened, reading her reaction. He stepped out of his jeans, then gently guided her back onto the bed. The mattress sank under her, and Searán lay back, her pulse hammering as he knelt before her. His hands undid her jeans, peeling the tight denim down her legs, revealing her black lace knickers.
He took his time, hands starting at her feet, caressing her ankles, stroking up her calves with a reverence that made her skin hum. His fingers traced light patterns, teasing as they moved higher, lingering at her knees, then gliding to her thighs. Searán’s breath hitched, her legs parting as his hands neared the tops of her thighs, the heat between them undeniable.
Richard leaned in, his mouth brushing the skin just above her knickers. Searán gripped the sheets, her body taut with anticipation. He kissed around the lace, teasing, his breath warm against her. She resisted the urge to tear the knickers off herself, wanting him to lead. Then, with a gentle tug, he pulled the lace aside, exposing her damp pussy. His lips found her, kissing softly, then with purpose, and Searán gasped, her hips lifting toward him.
The sensation was exquisite, his mouth exploring her with skill, each flick of his tongue sending waves of pleasure through her. She grew wetter, her body responding eagerly, and Richard’s hands held her thighs, keeping her open to him. Searán let herself fall into the moment, her gasps filling the room as he drove her closer to the edge.
The Dance of Intimacy
Richard tugged her knickers off, tossing them aside. He shifted, lying beside her, his body aligned oppositely, his face near her groin, his own body close to hers. Searán reached out, her hand finding his cock, its heat and firmness thrilling under her touch. She kissed the tip, tasting him, her lips lingering as she explored.
His tongue found her clit, circling with a rhythm that made her moan. One finger slid inside her, then another, testing her wetness, probing gently to find what she liked. Searán guided him, her voice soft but firm. “A little to the left… yes, there.” When his fingers brushed her G-spot, she gasped, her hips bucking. “Like that,” she instructed, and he followed, curling his fingers in a steady motion that sent pleasure spiraling through her.
Emboldened, Searán took the tip of his cock into her mouth, her lips sliding down the top of his shaft, her hand gripping the base. She moved slowly, savoring his taste, the way he pulsed under her touch. But as her pleasure built, her focus wavered, her moans deepening as Richard’s fingers and tongue worked in tandem.
Sensing her distraction, Richard gently pulled his cock from her mouth, focusing entirely on her. His tongue flicked faster, his fingers pressing her G-spot with precision. Searán’s body tensed, her breath coming in sharp gasps. The orgasm crashed through her, her hips grinding against his hand as his fingers drew out every shudder, every pulse of pleasure.
She collapsed back, breathless, her body humming. Richard lay beside her, his hand on her thigh, his own arousal evident in the tension of his body. Searán met his gaze, seeing the same wonder she felt, the connection between them palpable.
A Gentle Union
Searán lay back, her chest rising and falling, marveling at the intensity of what had just happened. Her body felt alive, every nerve alight, and yet there was more to come. She glanced at Richard, watching as he tore open a condom packet, rolling it onto his shaft with care. His size still made her pulse quicken, a mix of anticipation and nerves.
He grabbed a small bottle of lube, adding a little to the condom, ensuring her comfort. Searán shifted, lying on her back, her legs spread, ready to receive him. Richard moved, positioning himself perpendicular to her, his body forming the top of a T against hers. He lay on his side, one hand guiding himself, the other resting on her thigh, his eyes locked on hers, seeking permission.
Searán nodded, her voice soft. “Gently,” she said, a plea and a promise.
Richard eased forward, guiding himself to her entrance, entering her slowly. The angle was intimate, his cock filling her gradually, the stretch intense but eased by the lube and his care. Searán inhaled, her body adjusting, the position allowing her to feel every inch of him while keeping her open and relaxed. He paused, letting her breathe, letting her set the pace.
She reached out, her hand on his hip, urging him deeper. They found a rhythm, his movements steady, the position creating a unique connection, their bodies aligned yet free to move. Searán’s fears melted away, replaced by a fullness, a closeness, that was everything she’d hoped for. Richard’s breath was warm against her skin, his hand caressing her thigh, and Searán knew this was only the beginning.
OxonWoods Man 
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