Strong of arms and sculpted along his flank so that the bronze flesh rippled with each flex of his arms. His body was my golden idol and I was his perfect slave. I could no more leave his side than I could leave my own body. On the evenings, by the fire, we shared longing looks over a glass of wine, naked and blissfully aware of each other’s sexual nature. He loved the way I swirled my tongue across his, leaving only a faint hint of Sauterne trailing across his taste buds. The feel of his hands lightly caressing my shoulders drew me closer to him, so close I could feel the rigid hardness of his dick pressing against my groin. The pile in the carpet tickled my back as he rolled over, never pulling his magnificent dick from my pussy. The subtle way he would kiss my lips and the forceful way he handled my body was more than any woman on earth could ask for. He was a master at manipulating me to the point I could hardly breathe. Fingers rolling across the small of my back kept the electric tension rippling up and down my spine.
