Sensual smells---intoxicating, luring, sweet and savory, sexy and tasty. Luscious reds abound, peaks of perfection on bare bodies. Drapes of soft fabric float about, disguising and enticing, obscuring and revealing. Hazy smoke danced and circled in the air as men and women moaned and arched and groaned and rubbed flesh on flesh, mingled saltiness, physically doused in wetness while mentally submerged in sublime lust.
He was led to a room full of heaving bodies and a symphony of sex. Women fondled him; men licked the droplets of anxiety from his brow. Hands were everywhere, and tongues were everywhere else. He nearly collapsed but felt his weight supported by a dozen arms as bodies crowded him, tasted him, sucked him and bit him. He was dizzy, drunk, overloaded with sensual images as he was caressed and kissed, then sat into a chair with his hands tied firmly behind him.
She
was Salome, and her dance was for him. Her eyes penetrated his as she slowly advanced,
silks covering every inch of her tall, dark frame, deftly being plucked one by
one to reveal the fresh ripeness of womanhood. The deep colors engulfed her as
she spun and shook her hips in a bone shattering rhythm that rivaled his racing
heart, then melded with it. Fully naked, she straddled his lap and wrapped her
veil around his cock and slowly, ever so slowly, pulled the liquid fabric away,
tantalizing, teasing, touching the tip with her tongue and smiling at his sharp
intake of breath. Her craft, her gift, was exposed as she swirled her tongue around
his member like sucking a piece of candy. He was hard as a rock, such a contrast
to the soft, warm, supple fresh that now writhed below him, arched back, moving
her hips to the pulsating beat, her eyes locked with his. He was untied and fell
upon her, having her for his own, pressing onto her oil slicked body and wanting
every inch of him inside her. He thrust hard and deep, feeling the wet warmth
of feminine nectar sweeten him, flow through him and over him, until he came in
a moment of glorious conquest. She was his, he was the victor. He held her wrists
and groaned as lightning flash spasms sparked through his body, setting his soul
afire, then he settled onto her, spent, exhausted, yet with every nerve tingling
and tipped with the afterburn. In that moment he thanked every god he could think
of the Woman was created.