Blame it on me

16

He is rough and deep, and Zia's body wriggles at the overstimulation but he tightens his grip on her and keeps her in place. "It's too much!" she cries out, but it only serves to make him rougher. He adds another finger, goes deeper and squeezes her nipple a little harder. "Austin! I... it's too much," she cries, almost desperate. "You can take it, baby, you can take more," he whispers, squeezing a third thick finger into her. Her mouth drops open in a silent scream, her back arching as her body draws him in more. "Want me to stop, baby?" he hums, his voice like silk. She knows what his doing, he is playing with her. He is rough and will over-stimulate her until her orgasm ignites and hovers just out of reach then he will slow down and tease it down tenderly - it's always phenomenal. He is phenomenal. He is exceptional at everything he does, and drawing out an earth shattering orgasam from her is one of his most skilled talents. The sudden pulling in her abdomen makes her mind go blank, her only focus now is on Austin's perfect fingers and the start of her orgasm that makes the blood in her veins feels like liquid gold. She will never catch it though,he will control her climax. She whines in frustration and starts to wriggle.

The muscles on his arms flex and he holds her tighter to his chest, driving his fingers deeper. She stretches, strained, around them as he scratches that sweet spot then presses down on it forcing a long soft cry to melt out of her mouth. He catches her nipple in his fingers, pinching it till she cries out softly, her back arching again causing her to ass push into his long hard length. His lips run along her neck. He is driving her insane. "You are beautiful..." he whispers into her skin. Then he slow his fingers, and controls the bubbling of her orgasam - it torchure and bliss smashed together.

"You hold my whole heart..." he whispers.

Her skin is on fire, her nerve endings that sit just under her skin feel like they lean towards his fingers, begging to be touched too. Her body shivers as Austin continues to tease her orgasm gently, it feels like liquid gold rushing around her body.

"You are shaking..."

"My head..." she whimpers.

"Breath, baby, just feel me..."

Zia squeezes her eyes shut and breaths in through her nose, trying to calm and control the mess Austin has made of her. The gentle rush of the river outside their tent, the feeling of his hard muscular body under her, the way her body reacts to his touch, his hot breath in her ear and on her skin, his strong fingers between her legs that never stop teasing her softly. "Let go now, baby..." he whispers and then bites down on her shoulder softly as he covers her mouth with his hand. Zia tumbles, it's amazing - every nerve in her body crackles and pops, her back arches futher, her vision blures, and her scream gets lost in Austin's sturdy hand.

Angels. A whole choir of angels are singing.

~

It's still early when Zia leaves the tent, towel clutched to her chest, the cool air licking at her bare legs. The campsite is hushed, blanketed in the soft lull of sleep. Everyone else is still tucked away, dreaming. She walks alone to the showers, the silence pressing in around her.

The water is warm, steam curling around her like a veil. She tilts her face upward, lets the stream run down her body, and closes her eyes.

At first, there's a smile.

It blooms slowly, like the warmth in her chest. She thinks of him-of the way his arms wrapped around her just moments ago, the way he murmured her name like it still meant something. His hands, his mouth, the way he looked at her like she was the only one. Another tender morning. Another moment where it felt like they hadn't lost everything.

"Two for two," she whispers, her voice a breath against the tiles, lips tugging upward. It had always been like that with Austin. He was her first. Her only. And even without a scale to measure him against, she knew he was rare. Her friends would talk, would complain about sex with their boyfriends-cold, mechanical, one-sided. Men who grunted and flopped around like fish on a line, never looking them in the eye, never caring if they finished.