Page 17 of His Cabin Obsession

Olivia hesitates for the barest moment. I feel her muscles tense just a tiny bit under her skin.

“Let me make you feel good,” I add, to tip her over the edge, but she’s already made the decision. Before I finish saying it she’s turning over, carefully rolling on top of the towel, shifting her body over between my legs so that she doesn’t knock into me as she goes.

Then we are facing one another, me kneeling above her, the hard rod inside my trousers clearly visibly as it strains against the fabric, her utterly naked and exposed under me. Her large breasts quiver as they settle into place, the flesh spilling over her chest.

Olivia’s face is bright red, a flush that is not at all unbecoming. My eyes trail eagerly down over her body, taking her in. Her oversized bust, begging to spill over my fingers, her wide hips perfect for bearing children, the neat thatch of hair just above her sex, hot and distended, waiting for my fingers.

I want to bring her to a fever pitch. I want her to experience the build-up and the excitement so much that it almost pushes her over the edge by itself. I lean forward, bringing my head level with hers, and start to push down on her shoulders, my body stretching above hers.

Olivia bites her lip as I push and manipulate the muscles, soothing them with long circular strokes, pushing lightly against her collarbone to settle all of her muscles where they should be. She almost pants for breath as I finally leave off teasing and slip my hands down lower, sweeping them over the curve of her breasts, cupping the edges of her flesh and moving slowly but steadily closer to the center. More than once I see her eyes dip down to my pants, and I know she sees how much I want her. But for that, she has to wait. There’s no sense in rushing. We have all the time in the world to enjoy this, and I want to make sure that she doesn’t feel like she missed out on a single thing.

Her breathing is faster now, and I can even feel her heart hammering under my hands, behind the soft mounds of flesh that I can’t stop caressing. Even with gravity doing half the work, the weight of them in my hands is satisfying. She’s a real woman – not like those fakes who insist on trying to look like Barbie with their bleached hair and tiny waists. No, Olivia has the kind of body that was made to be worshipped, to be appreciated. Not to be tortured into unrealistic goals.

My goddess shifts under me, her chest pushing up against my hands, telling me how much she wants more. I will give her what she wants. I’m in control of tempo and timing, but I won’t hold back too much – I just want to make her wild for me, to make her come like no one else would ever be able to make her come. I want her to know that she is, now and forever, mine.

I finally slide my hands across the flesh of her breasts, allowing them to brush lightly over her nipples. They’re already standing at attention, the slightly darker flesh standing out against her pale skin. She shivers and her lips part in such a perfect expression that I have no idea how to hold myself back now. Somehow I do, keeping my restraint – just one light brush, then another, then a little faster.

Olivia moans and presses herself upwards, straining to meet me, and I let my fingers trail closer to her nipples, staying there. What was that line she wrote earlier? The rough pad of his thumb… I sweep my thumbs simultaneously over both of her nipples, backwards and forwards, getting faster and faster, twiddling them forward and back, until her back arches towards me and her breath comes in shallow pants.

Then I switch gears again, taking hold of each of them between my thumb and forefinger and squeezing while I twist my hands from side to side – not so hard to hurt, but just the right amount of pressure to make her gasp and moan, to send another rush of heat flooding between her legs. I don’t have to put my hand down and touch her to know it from the look on her face, the desperate need.

I lower my mouth to hers, stealing a hot and heavy kiss – our first. I let her get used to it, until she allows my tongue to slip between her lips and do battle with her own, twisting and pushing with the same rhythm as my fingers. Then I relinquish her mouth and move my tongue to her chest instead, taking her nipple into my mouth and flicking it with my tongue, feeling her writhe beneath me.

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