O delicate dance of fingers on skin, A journey begins where her breath grows thin. Soft folds invite with a trembling plea, A touch to unlock what yearns to be free.
The rhythm unfolds, a pulse to explore, Each curve and each crest a map to adore. Her warmth is a guide, her sighs a sweet song, A cadence of pleasure that carries along.
Slow circles trace where her secrets reside, A tender invasion, no need to hide. Her hips rise to meet the gentle caress, A silent confession of pure excess.
The slickness grows with each careful glide, A river awakened by passion’s tide. Fingers become both artist and muse, Painting her bliss in the hues she’ll choose.
A deeper plunge where her core ignites, Her gasps are stars in the velvet night. The walls clench tight, a welcoming grip, A sacred bond in each fingertip.
The pace quickens as her voice ascends, A symphony builds where control bends. Her thighs a frame, her center the stage, A story of longing on every page.
Two fingers curl to a hidden delight, A spot that sparks with a shivering bite. Her moan is a hymn, both wild and devout, A secret revealed that she can’t live without.
The tempo shifts, now soft, now bold, A tale of desire in each fold told. Her body speaks what words cannot say, A language of touch in sweet disarray.
Her breath catches sharp, the edge draws near, Fingers persist through trembling fear. A crest approaches, a wave to ride, Her pleasure blooms where the soul resides.
The climax breaks, a shuddering flood, A pulse of release in her racing blood. Fingers stay steady, they cradle her fall, A tender anchor through ecstasy’s call.
As waves subside, a glow remains, Her softness hums through sated veins. The touch slows gentle, a soothing art, A bridge from rapture back to her heart.
O sacred act, this gift bestowed, Fingering her where passion flowed. A woman’s bliss, a moment divine, Forever etched in touch’s design.
The morning sun filtered through the lace curtains of Emma’s Oxfordshire cottage, casting delicate patterns on the hardwood floor of her bedroom. It was the day after her encounter with Richard in the woodland, and her body still hummed with the memory of their passionate hours together. She’d woken with a lingering ache between her legs, a delicious reminder of Richard’s thick, cock and the way he’d filled her so completely. Her husband, Derreck, was still away for work, not due back for a few days, and the freedom of his absence allowed her to revel in the afterglow of her indiscretion.
Emma had just finished a light breakfast of toast and tea when the doorbell rang, a soft chime that echoed through the quiet house. She smoothed her hands over the simple cotton robe she wore, the fabric clinging to her bare skin, she hadn’t bothered with underwear, her body still craving the freedom of being unencumbered after yesterday’s escapades. Her chestnut hair was loose, tumbling over her shoulders, and her skin glowed with a post-coital radiance that made her feel more alive than she had in months.
She opened the door to find Richard standing on her doorstep, his tall frame filling the space. He wore a fitted t-shirt and loose trousers, the outline of his impressive cock already faintly visible through the fabric. His brown eyes met hers, a spark of recognition and desire flaring between them, and Emma felt her pulse quicken.
“Morning,” Richard said, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. He held up a small bag, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “I thought you might be a bit sore after yesterday. Brought some massage oil, thought I’d give you a massage to remember.”
Emma’s smile widened, her body already responding to the promise in his words. “That sounds perfect,” she said, stepping aside to let him in. “Come in.”
She led him through the cottage, the scent of lavender from a diffuser filling the air, and up the stairs to her bedroom. The room was softly lit, the curtains still drawn to let in just enough light to create a warm, intimate atmosphere. The bed was unmade, the sheets rumpled from her restless sleep, and Emma gestured to it with a casual wave. “I’ll grab a towel,” she said, her voice light but laced with anticipation. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Richard set his bag on the bedside table, pulling out a bottle of massage oil and a small speaker that began to play soft, ambient music, a gentle melody that filled the room with a calming energy. Emma returned with a large, fluffy towel, spreading it over the bed before turning to him. She untied her robe, letting it slip from her shoulders to pool at her feet, revealing her naked body. Her small breasts, tipped with rosy nipples, stood pert in the cool air, and the neat triangle of her pussy glistened faintly with the first stirrings of arousal. Richard’s eyes darkened as he took her in, his gaze lingering on her curves, her skin, the way her body seemed to glow in the soft light.
“You’re stunning,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. He began to undress, pulling his t-shirt over his head to reveal a chest dusted with graying hair, his body still fit and strong. He kicked off his trousers, his cock springing free, already half-hard and as impressive as she remembered, thick, uncut, and long. Emma’s breath caught at the sight of him, her pussy clenching with need, but she forced herself to focus on the massage. She wanted to savor this, to let the anticipation build.
“Lie down on your stomach,” Richard said, his tone gentle but firm. Emma complied, stretching out on the towel, her arms resting by her sides, her cheek pressed against the soft fabric. She could feel the heat of his gaze on her as he moved to the side of the bed, the faint scent of the massage oil, sandalwood and citrus, filling the air as he poured some into his hands and rubbed them together to warm it.
Richard started at her shoulders, his hands strong and sure as he kneaded the muscles there, working out the tension she hadn’t even realized she was carrying. His fingers were skilled, pressing into the knots with just the right amount of pressure, and Emma let out a soft sigh, her body relaxing under his touch. He moved down her back, his hands gliding over her skin, the oil making her feel slick and warm. He worked the muscles along her spine, his thumbs pressing into the small of her back, and Emma felt a wave of pleasure that was both soothing and arousing.
“You’re good at this,” she murmured, her voice muffled against the towel. “Really good.”
“I’ve had some practice,” Richard replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. His hands moved lower, kneading her glutes with a firm, steady pressure that made her moan softly. The sensation was exquisite, the line between therapeutic and sensual blurring as his fingers worked the muscles, his touch lingering just long enough to make her squirm. He moved down to her thighs, his hands gliding over the backs of her legs, his thumbs pressing into the sensitive spots just below her ass. Emma’s pussy throbbed with each touch, her arousal building as his hands moved closer to her most intimate place.
Richard’s hands paused at the tops of her thighs, his fingers brushing the edges of her pussy lips, and Emma’s breath hitched. “Turn over,” he said, his voice low and husky, and she obeyed, rolling onto her back. Her breasts jiggled slightly as she settled, her nipples hard and aching, her pussy now fully exposed to him. Richard’s cock was fully hard now, jutting out from his body, the foreskin partially retracted to reveal the glistening tip, but he made no move to touch himself, his focus entirely on her.
He poured more oil into his hands, starting at her shoulders again, his touch lighter now, more sensual. He massaged her collarbone, his fingers brushing the tops of her breasts, and Emma’s breath quickened, her body arching slightly into his touch. He moved to her arms, kneading the muscles there, his hands gliding down to her wrists and back up, the oil making her skin glisten in the soft light. When he finally reached her breasts, his touch was gentle, almost reverent, his hands cupping them as his thumbs brushed over her nipples. Emma moaned, her hips shifting on the bed, her pussy growing wetter with each passing second.
Richard’s hands moved down her stomach, his fingers tracing the dip of her navel, the curve of her hips, before settling on her thighs. He massaged the fronts of her legs, his hands working the muscles with the same skill he’d shown before, but now his touch was more deliberate, more teasing. His fingers brushed the edges of her pussy again, and Emma whimpered, her legs parting slightly in invitation.
He didn’t make her wait long. Richard’s fingers slid between her thighs, brushing against her pussy lips, and Emma gasped, her hips lifting off the bed. Her outer lips were slick with arousal, her inner lips peeking through, throbbing with need, and Richard took his time, his touch light and exploratory. He traced the outline of her pussy, his fingers gliding over her lips, teasing her entrance without entering her. “You’re so wet,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “So ready for me.”
Emma moaned, her hands gripping the towel beneath her as his fingers continued their slow exploration. He parted her lips gently, his thumb brushing over her clit, and the sensation was electric, a jolt of pleasure that made her cry out. He circled her clit with his thumb, his touch light but firm, while his other fingers teased her entrance, dipping just inside before pulling back. Emma’s hips bucked, her body begging for more, and Richard obliged, sliding two fingers inside her with a slow, deliberate motion.
Her pussy was tight, still slightly tender from yesterday, but so wet that his fingers slid in easily, her walls clenching around him. Richard curled his fingers, searching for her G-spot, and when he found it, Emma’s moan turned into a cry, her body trembling with the intensity of the sensation. He pressed against that sensitive spot, his fingers moving in a slow, rhythmic motion, while his thumb continued to circle her clit. The dual stimulation was overwhelming, the pleasure building in waves that made her head spin.
“Richard,” she gasped, her voice trembling. “Oh, God, that feels so good.” Her hands reached for him, her fingers tangling in his hair as he leaned down, his breath hot against her pussy. He kissed her inner thighs, his lips soft and teasing, before moving to her pussy, his tongue flicking out to taste her. The first touch of his tongue on her clit made Emma cry out, her hips bucking against his face, and Richard groaned, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through her.
He lapped at her clit, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles, while his fingers continued to work her G-spot, the combination driving her closer to the edge. Emma’s moans grew louder, her body trembling as the pleasure built, her pussy clenching around his fingers. Richard’s tongue was relentless, alternating between circling her clit and flicking it with quick, precise movements, while his fingers pressed harder against her G-spot, the pressure almost too much to bear.
Emma’s orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her pussy clenching around his fingers as she came, her cries echoing through the room. Her body shuddered, her hips bucking against his face, and Richard didn’t stop, his tongue and fingers working her through the waves of pleasure until she was gasping for breath, her body limp on the bed. He pulled back slowly, his fingers sliding out of her, his lips pressing a final, tender kiss to her clit before he sat back, his cock throbbing with need.
But he wasn’t done with her yet. Richard stood, his tall frame looming over her, his cock jutting out, hard and ready. Emma’s eyes locked on it, her pussy clenching with anticipation, and she rolled onto her stomach without being asked, her ass lifting slightly in invitation. Richard positioned himself behind her, his hands gripping her hips as he entered her, his cock sliding into her pussy with a slow, deliberate thrust.
The angle was perfect, his cock filling her completely, the head brushing against her G-spot with every thrust. Emma moaned, her face pressed into the towel, her hands gripping the fabric as he fucked her, his movements deep and powerful. Richard’s hands roamed her back, his fingers tracing the curve of her spine, the dip of her waist, as he thrust into her, his pace quickening as his own pleasure built.
Emma came again, her pussy clenching around him, her cries muffled against the towel as waves of pleasure crashed through her. Richard groaned, his thrusts growing erratic as he neared his own release, and with a final, deep thrust, he came, his hot cum filling her pussy as he shuddered above her. They collapsed together on the bed, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths mingling in the quiet room.
As they lay there, tangled in each other, Emma felt a deep satisfaction, her body sated in a way she hadn’t thought possible. Richard’s hand stroked her hair, a tender gesture that made her smile, and she knew this wouldn’t be the last time they shared such a moment. The memory of his massage, his fingers, his tongue, and his cock would stay with her long after he was gone, a reminder of the passion they’d found in each other.
OxonWoods Man 