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The fight is not over.
Her soft pink tongue traces along her lips as she looks him over, like a vulture to it's prey. Her mind races, wanting to please him so badly. She climbs up onto the bed, standing above him, her hips swaying to the music. She moves with grace, her knees bending, her pelvis softly gyrating to the rhythm of the saxophone, her hands roaming over her flesh.
He's mesmerized, unable to take his eyes from her as she stands above him. The material of her panties are buried between the lips of her pussy, each motion seemingly pulls it tighter into her slit. Her movements are so natural, flowing, as if he isn't even here. Fingers move between her thighs, pressing against the material within her folds as she lowers herself; only to rise again, this time turning. He hears the low groan and realizes it is his own.
She places her hands on his calves and looks between her legs at him, biting her lower lip as she rocks her hips, lowering herself onto him with bent knees, teasing him with her scent and straightening her legs again. This goes on for what seems like an eternity, her nails digging into the flesh under his clothing as she travels backwards up along his body. She falls back and sits above his head. her legs on the sides of him. She leans back against the headboard, trying to control her own breathing as she whispers " You wouldn't by any chance, still be hungry would you?"
He grins wickedly and rolls onto his stomach, the magnificent view before him. "Ravenously so," he answers and kisses the top of her nylon, tugging it with his teeth. His hands hold her left leg as if it were a fine piece of china, moving over her with his tongue, his eyes glancing to hers every so often; he switches and trails along her right, advancing inward as he nears her sex. She grins at him and places her feet on his shoulders, heels digging into the skin under his shirt, "Strip."
He looks up to her and growls in frustration as he slides back from the bed. She smirks at the sound and sits up, crawling towards him she kneels at the foot of the bed, grabbing his face in her hands she kisses him, biting on his lip as she pulls back. "Patience my darlin."
His fingers fumble with his belt as he watches her crawl back against the headboard, her feline motions heightening his desire; freeing his belt she holds out her hand and requests it "May I?" He looks down at the leather strip in his hand and nods, placing it in her hand before unbuttoning his shirt.
She watches as his chest comes into view, the strength obvious, his fingers parting the shirt and pulling it from his shoulders. She fondles the belt within her hands as he undoes his pants. She couldn't miss the tightness along his crotch, she burned to see it, to feel it. He pulls his pants and underwear off in one motion, softly moaning as his cock springs free. Her eyes fall onto his shaft, trying to keep her own moan to herself, she takes the belt and runs it over her pussy, the leather slipping easily over her wet lips. Grinding against it as she closes her thighs, loving the feeling as it's trapped between her lips. She pulls it up and motions him back onto the bed, showing him the belt, glistening with her wetness.
He crawls along her body eyeing the belt as she holds it up. She brings her knees to her chest and raises his chin with her finger, "Clean it." He visibly sulks and reaches for it with his tongue, the mixture of her taste and the leather flooding his senses. She strokes his hair with her free hand, watching him relish in the task. Her pulse racing under her calm demeanor. "Stop!"
He stops in mid-lick with something that resembles a whimper, finding himself whispering "Yes Ma'am." She turns to her side and climbs from the bed, leaving him there on all fours in the center of it, "Don't move." He nods, caught up in the moment.
She walks to the foot of the bed and climbs up behind him, her nails raking over his ass harshly.