Last Rites - Sex Stories

Last Rites

... that he could no longer consciously recall feeling for too many years. She wanted him, all of him, and he was helpless, both to deny her, and to fully understand the nature of her lust any more. Involuntarily, his hips began to rock in time with her insistent strokes up and down the length of his shaft. There was pain, to be sure, but it was a delicious pain, one that he dimly craved more of, as his lust grew with each passing moment. Then she shifted, leaving him feeling naked, open, vulnerable, and deserted, his stiff cock falling to his lower abdomen as she abandoned her ministrations for whatever reasons. There was movement on the bed where he lay, but his overtired mind lacked comprehension as to what that activity was supposed to accomplish, and why. Soon, her hand recaptured his straining manhood, returning to caress and protect that vulnerable part of his body, and a sense of relief flooded through him. Then he felt a moist warmth cover his cockhead, and he almost forgot what it was, or why it happened. She slowly eased herself down onto him, taking him inside her, drowning him in feelings and sensations that threatened his very existence, yet made him powerless to fight or overcome them. He felt her wetness being augmented on his cock’s skin with a soft, velvet-like encasing, her vaginal sheath embracing him in a possessive grip, the likes of which he had either never experienced before, or had lost the memories of, over the decades. As she took more and more of him ...

... inside her, the heat of her sex migrated to his cock, then down his shaft as it attempted to ignite his entire groin. There came a point where she had him inside her, buried to the hilt, and he lost track of where he ended and she started. He inhaled sharply at th realization that she had taken all of him, and he had given her more than he remembered ever having. She began to rock her hips, massaging his shaft, and leaving him begging for more. The rhythm was slow at first, then built up eventually to a screaming, demanding crescendo, his own hips trying vainly to match her pace and tempo. As she rocked up and down on him,, she groaned with her lust, and he became aware of another forgotten stimulus, the joy of giving a woman pleasure as she took him inside her in an attempt to draw that life-giving fluid from his body. There was an unfamiliar pressure building in his groin which he didn’t consciously understand, yet it also didn’t make him afraid. In fact, he wanted more of it, wanted to experience it take control of his existence, consume him, become the centre of his comprehension. Those surges that happened at the base of his shaft became more insistent with each passing stroke, and every new moment of this strange experience began to strike him as being addictive. Then it built to a point where he thought he might explode. His breathing became laboured and difficult, his gasps more pronounced, his focus fully on the happenings in his groin. As that ominous pressure built ...