excerpt from The Private Garden
by Oly TL
Tiger
Bindi is waiting for us outside with a backpack. Almost like before, when we went on a father-son horseback ride. I clench my jaws with bitterness, pierced by this uncontrolled flood of memories. I pick up the package and thank her with a smile. At a trot, we leave the place. I do everything to relax Océane. Little by little, she becomes less stiff. I follow her rhythm. Too bad, no galloping or obstacles for me today. She has to enjoy the panorama from the top of her mount, overcome her apprehensions, be in osmosis with her horse, and savor it.
The landscape scrolls smoothly. As a good little student, Océane focuses on her posture. I think she’s still a little afraid of falling, even though Pearl is not the type to rebel.
“It’s so beautiful, so pure and… amazing out here,” she marvels. “Can you still appreciate it?”
I stare at her.
“Yes, I can appreciate it,” I tell her.
Our eyes meet when she turns her head. She bats her eyelashes and moistens her lips. My desire soars again. Okay. We’re not far enough away, but I don’t care. I decide to ride towards the river to stop us.
“Break time, sexy cowgirl. I’ve reached my limit.”
“Already tired?” she pretends to be surprised.
The color of her cheeks doesn’t fool me for a second.
Nah, I can see your game, Blondie.
I smile as I get off my horse and tie it to a trunk. Then, I lend a hand to Océane.
“Who said anything about tiredness?” I finally reply.
“Well, my posterior and thighs are sore, and my back is a bit painful, to tell you the truth,” she argues when I grab her waist to bring her against me. “I know that it is not very glamorous but that—”
I stifle her false protests with a kiss. Gentle at first. Then a voracious appetite takes over, making the reluctance in my head implode like locks that open. The complaints of Océane die in the bottom of my mouth, and her quivering body melts against me. I interrupt myself one second to untie her from the helmet of protection. When I resume our fusion, I deepen it, blocking her head between my palms to better taste her. Progressively, I unbutton her jeans and start to lift her top to slip my fingers in. While I kiss her to stretch my boxers to the extreme, I unhook her bra and take hold of her round, tender breast.
“Damn, Tiger…”
I stop temporarily to rid her of everything that bothers me. Her clothes ejected, she takes the initiative to remove mine. My mouth and my caresses return to the assault intermittently. Soon, my erection is released, exposed to the great day under the bright pupils of the one who is responsible for this state. I push her again against me and knead her pretty ass. While devouring her with my eyes.
“Is that where it hurts?” I say to her, the tone hardly recognizable.
She gasps, clutching at me.
“Yes, a little…” she whispers to me.
“I will take care of it.”
I take back her lips and pull her on me. Her legs wrap around my hips, and her tongue drives me crazy. Mine drinks from her. My pulses go to my fifth member. We land on a grass carpet, Océane on her back. Me above her, still captive of her members around me. My attention turns to her ear. I feel her sensitivity in this area, which increases the intensity of her reactions and mine tenfold. My mouth lingers there before starting a sinuous way to the hollow of her neck. To hear her pronounce my name while squirming makes me feel euphoric. I reach her chest and stop for a moment to contemplate her.
Damn, she is beautiful! And receptive… That’s not going to help me stay on track.
“Come back, Tiger,” she meows, pulling me by the neck.
We kiss indefinitely before I can detach myself to explore her elsewhere. On her areolas, her hardened nipples. They stick out and remind me how much I am in need. I knead her breasts, hungry, and I press them against each other to access both. I bury my face there, smelling her scent. My tongue comes back. My teeth bite her between the suctions. She pushes small cries, contorts herself, and clings to my hair. I continue; her delicate flesh and her velvety skin intoxicate me. Interrupted curses and moans follow one another when I cross her belly, going more to the south. I play with the outline of her belly button. I don’t know if it tickles her, titillates her, or both. But damn, she’s blowing my mind! It gets worse when I discover her wet petals, murderously soft. My mouth is lost, a big part of my reason too.
Océane arches her back, calls me and moves her pelvis to meet me. Sensual, covered with dew. Her intimate perfume obsesses me; I no longer control the ardor of my comings and goings to the borders of her femininity. Her pink bud under my tongue, my hot breath in her wetness, her thighs which encircle me. My fingers imprison her to have her groin all to myself. To suffocate. I perceive a beginning of trance germinating in the depths of her delicious corollas. Her words become incoherent, her trembling unmanageable. Her pleasure is about to reach its apotheosis; I backpedal to calm the game.
“Please… No…” Océane begs me, her breathing jerky.
I move up again to catch her mouth; the taste of all her lips mixes and consumes my crumbs of self-control. I return to the conquest of her breasts, triturate the tips, suck them without moderation, lick them, knead them. Then I go back down to take care of the tender pearl nestled in the hollow of her femininity. Second round. More methodical. The first signs of her pleasure come to the surface, and she loses it again. I speed up, bring her to the edge of the abyss then I slow down again.
Time is suspended in eternity. A thread of sweat covers Océane’s skin, and her arousal takes an unsuspected path. She rises, almost to the point of climax, before I block her at this stage, tame her to maintain her. For a long time, as long as my nerves manage to hold, I flirt with her orgasm at hand.
“It’s… criminal… what… you do to me,” she accuses me with anarchic breath.
She palpitates of desire, cracked up brain, and softened body. I give her a smile; I get an insult. And I start again to maltreat her. When I come to the same degree of sensory madness, I stand up. She leers at me completely.
“Tiger, I will kill you if you don’t come back here!”
Her redness, her hair in battle, her curves decorated with my marks of attention, everything of her is of a devastating eroticism. Lying in the greenery, moist, weakened, magical. I bend down to pick up my pants and take out the condom set. I detach one and join her.
“You thought I was done with you, Miss Rousseau?”
“Good for you, sweet pea. Nah, actually, that nickname definitely doesn’t suit you.”
A naughty smile lights up her face, to which I answer. Her eyes wander over my chest and my abs, stopping their exploration at my erect cock. This simple glance makes me the effect of the torture of too much.
I rip the package and put on the condom. The next second, I am on my knees, between her thighs, lifting her hips. My dick slides over her clitoris in suave torture. Océane sighs and shivers. I lean over; she retains me and claws my butt. I slide between her petals and come to the edge of her intimacy. Our eyes find themselves.
With slowness, I penetrate her while looking at her. The more I progress in her, the more the manifestations of her pleasure merge with mine.
“Damn, I want you so much,” I say to her in a last movement.
And I enter entirely in her. Trapped by a devouring need, I remain motionless.
“You’re killing me, Tiger,” whispers Océane to me without suspecting the monstrous pleasure that I am taking.
She struggles to breathe, and so do I. I lean in and kiss her for the thousandth time. But this time, the fusion is total. My sex stiffens in her. I take support on a folded arm; my hips move lazily withdraw, return, withdraw. In slow motion. I’m shaking; my muscles are getting hard. My comings and goings keep this tempo while I admire the woman under me. She embraces me in her sheath, compresses me, and drenches me with pheromones.
To feel again the orgasm coming and to repress it asks of me a superhuman effort. My sex leaves hers, always full of desire at its peak. Océane moans, calls me a sadist, and braces herself to make me let go. So I capitulate; I fit myself in her in a thrust. My assaults accelerate, binding me deeply in her with each return in this narrow wetness. Stronger, almost merciless. My neurons disconnect, and the primitive sensations take the orders and smash me relentlessly in the hollow of Océane.
I know that she wants to cum, that she will implode. I see it, I feel it, and I fan the flames. No more question of control, but rather of chaos of the senses. Let her let go! I activate myself. She takes off, screams, and violent spasms sweep her up before my eyes. My lower abdomen contracts at the moment when my cock perceives the orgasm of my partner. A torrent takes me with her… We rock for a long time before regaining our footing.
“Oh, God!” I say, completely blown away by her.
Damn, what a delicious secretive woman! I wouldn’t have guessed it… I lie down on my back next to her, still in a trance.
“Damn!” she cries out.
I look for her glance. She is sublime and… distraught? Disoriented? Become shy again? My lips stretch.
“I think that… Shit!” she says again, now peony red. “No, damn, no!”
No? Could it be that this discovery that has just atomized me is also one for her?
I’m beginning to think so. Océane sits down again, puts her hand over her mouth, and looks down at her own body. I stand up, literally soaked with her, shot with endorphins.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Because now we’ll stop using condoms.”
The way she stares at me with embarrassment makes my eyes narrow.
“I’m not sure I… understand,” she hesitates.
“Which part do you want me to explain to you, little wonder?”
“I know you… felt that thing when we…”
“Oh yes, I felt it. That’s why we’re going to make arrangements not to use a condom anymore. Now that I’ve seen how you cum, I want you without a latex barrier next time. I want to feel everything about you.”
“But that was… I didn’t… I’m not…”
Shit, is she really ashamed?
“Wait, was this the first time this has happened?”
“You’re talking about…”
Yes, she is unsettled, as if she just found out too. Stunned, I notice her unjustified embarrassment. The shock, we are two to take it.
“I don’t know what got into me,” she apologizes.
I wonder if I should laugh or kiss her.
“So, you’re a squirting queen, and you didn’t know?”
“Squirting?”
Holy crap, I can’t believe it. No more doubts; she’s finding out! I nod, trying to make her realize that this is not a problem. It’s just the opposite. Damn, it makes me want to fuck her again. I try to verbalize gently, “What do you call that in French?”
“I have no idea,” says Océane.
Her cheekbones are getting more and more flushed. She suddenly seems so inexperienced, disturbed by this unexpected and dazzling response of her body to the prolonged stimulation.
I grab her and pull her to me. If I had known from the start that she would be so receptive to edging, I might not have lasted long. The finale is more breathtaking than I am used to in delayed orgasms.
Delightfully stunned, the reason for this cataclysm in my fantasies tries to find its way back. An innocent flower has just bloomed, beaded with pleasure.
“It’s a little embarrassing, Tiger,” she mumbles in her confusion, reaching for her shirt to wipe herself.
Her awkwardness and emotion are adorable to watch… Touching too. Is she afraid she’s made a fool of herself? With an asset like that?
“I’ve never… Good thing there are no sheets; that would have been a disaster.”
“Hey. Put that down. And stop looking away from me. That was… awesome! You just gave me a woman’s ejaculate; you should look up and show off.”
This time, her tainted innocence turns into astonishment. Then little by little, in amusement. I stare at her until she starts to be proud of it. A gleam lights up in the bottom of her beautiful green eyes, like an awareness of her secret weapon, unsuspected until now.
“Is it you, or am I the one who’s been great?” she teases me now.
“What do you think, little show-off?”
“I would say that my body has just reached apotheosis. And, yes, it was great; for once, I won’t contradict you. Enjoy it, Sweet Pea.”
“Scoundrel! Your body has finally found a partner capable of putting it into a trance, and I intend to prove it to you again under a shower of dew.”
To make you cum again, to unleash this again, to taste this geyser of pleasure inside you, to be sprayed with it. Shit, I’m not going to stop getting hard anymore!
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