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Of Thumbs and Bath houses (Phoebus and torridsoul)

Massive arms wrapped around your form, embracing you as a lover for the first time. His own lips parted, teasing the length of your tongue, before invading your lips, slipping within. Your body pressed firmly against his strong form, your body able to feel both scars and sinew beneath his clothing.

Baxter was the mystery man of every trashy romance novel, as he lifted you, cradling you in his strong arms. He carried you upstairs, his eyes locked on yours, his feet knowing the steps all to well. His eyes were bright now, full of both life, and lust. He side stepped into the bed room, all too conscious of you.

His body pressed gently against the edge of the bed, as he laid you down, looking over your form. His lips fell to your neck, kissing softly along the front, before gently biting the base, his hands slipping slowly along the side of your body, to the bottom hem of your shirt. His eyes met yours once again, almost as if to ask 'Are you sure?'
 
When she left your arms wrap around her body she let out a sigh of relief, she'd been afraid that you'd clam up again and toss up that mark mask you wore day to day. It hadn't surprised her that you'd taken over the kiss she'd started by slipping your tongue into her warm and willing mouth.

Belle let her tongue duel gently with yours until you lifted her carried her up the stairs. She hadn't been lifted and carried anywhere since she was a babe, and she certainly had never been carried to bed by a man before. Baxter would be a smooth one she thought, in this aspect of things.. where you lacked that smoothness elsewhere. It shouldn't have surprised her, and yet it did.

She moaned softly when she felt your lips on her neck, her excitement level rose when your hands moved along her side to the hem for her shirt, and she lifted her arms. A smile of approval passed her lips as you pulled the shirt over her head and exposed her small, perky freckled covered breasts to you,
 
Tender lips trailed your flesh, softly admiring each freckle, as his form overwhelmed yours. His hands trailed your sides softly, his fingertips trailing tender lines against your flesh. His strong hands brushed the hem of your pants, trailing upward again. His eyes moved to your breasts, seeing you for the first time. His rough, strong palms took the outer curves, engulfing them in his massive hands. His thumbs gently teased the very tips of your nipples, before letting the tips trace your areola slowly.

Warm breath flooded your senses, as his lips moved downward, softly tending to the lower curve of your tender, delicate breasts, soft kisses moving upward along the breast. His tongue traces the same trail of his fingertip, teasing the outer circle of your nipple. His lips clamp around the tender nub, teasing within his mouth. A gentle bite befalls the flesh, as he pulls softly, letting the captured flesh escape his mouth.

His tongue followed the lines of your body. To him, he was not the paintbrush, merely the observer to the sculpted form he could only observe. He bites tenderly along the curve of your untouched breast, teasing your nipple softly, Again, he clenches your nipple softly, drawing breath within open lips, letting the cool air contrast with the warmth of of his mouth.
 
Belle arched softly beneath your hands as they trailed over her skin, and she moaned softly when your rough hands brushed against the tips of her nipples. They responded to your touch almost instantly. soft and pliant one second, hard and aching the next.

Her delicate fingers flitted over your shoulders gently, gripping the material of your shirt gently. Her body was full of need, a need she'd never before experienced. It felt as if she would come apart when you'd wrapped your lips around her nipple and teased it. Her head fell back and a gentle cry of pleasure slipped between her lips when you gently assaulted the sensitive skin of her breasts with bites.

"Baxter, you're driving me crazy" She pushed at your shoulders gently and sat up a bit, letting her hands slide down your chest tugging at the hem of your shirt and then let her hands slip under it. She traced her fingers over your scars almost lovingly. Then she slid her hands from your shirt and pulled it over your head, leaning in and pressing her lips against your belly, and kissing her way up.

"I want you as crazy as I am.." she tilted her head curiously and flicked her tongue over your own nipple. Biting gently and then kissing her way up to your shoulder.. dragging her tongue across it, along your neck and then over your chin. "Do I make you crazy Baxter?"
 
His eyes widened a bit as your tongue teased his form. In his experience, he was the dominant one, slowly teasing at the needs of the girl. You were wile, knowing exactly what you wanted. A soft sigh escaped is lips as you teased his body.

He rolled again, pinning you beneath him. His lips fell to your neck, biting the base firmly, as your arms were pinned above your head, leaving you helpless to him. His grip was strong and sure, but tender at the same time.

Baxter was always a man of few words, and passion was no exception. His hands slip downward, to the top of your jeans, slipping beneath. Fingertips graze over your mons, his tongue teasing the captured flesh of your neck. His middle finger curls around, his rough skin tending to your soft flesh. Firm in his movements, he taunted your body, his finger relentless, as he suckled firmly at your neck, leaving a slight mark.
 
She liked seeing your eyes widen, it was as if you were surprised that she'd tried to take a little control that she wanted you to burn for her as she did for you. But it hadn't surprised her that you rolled her under you and pinned her beneath your body, since you were a man so accustomed to being in control. Still she thought that she would always remember the way your eyes had widened when she teased your form with her tongue.

Belle couldn't help herself, she tested the grip of your hold on her wrists. She was slightly astounded by your ability to hold her in your sure and strong grip and still be tender.

But when you slid your hands under her jeans and curled your fingers her body arched and she offered herself to you fully and without reservation. Belle wasn't a woman of few words, so when your actions brought her pleasure she moaned even as she rolled her hips against your fingers and said "Baxter.. you don't have to tease me.. just take me.."
 
A slight smirk crossed his lips. It wouldn't be that easy. He didn't want simple submission, rather he demanded that you ache for him. His finger's assault continued, working roughly over the tender nub. It suddenly stopped, his eyes locked on yours.

He remained still, waiting for you to move your lips to speak in the slightest. The moment you did, you felt his broad, battle hardened appendage slip into your firm, curling upward. His fingertip roamed your upper wall, dragging firmly along it, taking pleasure in the sexual agony you were tormented with. His finger quickly reset, to it's original, outstretched position, before dragging downward again. Upon the third reset, he let his finger pressed again the wall, working in a firm, slow circle against the spot.
 
If it was possible to go crazy out of ones mind from pleasure, she was sure that Baxter would demand it of her and she was very nearly there. The way your roughened finger slid into her, and roamed her insides.. She'd never been handled this way before and it surprised her more than she thought it would.

When you reset your finger for the third time and focused it solely on one spot, she felt as if her would were coming apart starting from where their bodies met, it was her orgasm and it had her body clenching and convulsing around it. "Baxter.. I.. I'm going to explode."
 
He continues his movements, watching you shudder around his finger. He slowed as your body's shuddering began to cease. His finger withdrew form your sex, trailing upward, along your clit, to your mons, and along your abdomen as his hand withdrew from your jeans, leaving a delightfully sticky trail along your body.

There would be no rest for the wicked tonight, though.

His hands worked quickly, pulling at your jeans, the button flying free, as he tore them down your legs. He slid back in, his tongue dragging along your thigh, before meeting the soft flesh of your sex. His tongue waltzed along the tender, abused flesh, savoring the heat he had provided. He savored the glow of your orgasm, taking in the warmth of the flush.

His tongue continued to taunt you, occasionally playing at your entrance, teasing to venture in.
 
With her now free hands she slid them down to your shoulders, and let her nails dig in to your broad shoulders leaving angry half moon welts in them. She squirmed slightly against you, but she seemed to freeze as your tongue slid against her sex. She gasped and arched towards your tongue..

She was just barely coming off of her first orgasm and your tongue was quickly causing a second one to build. "Baxter please.." she want you so badly, fingers and tongues were one thing.. but what she wanted was to slide between your legs and show you what she could do. Even better she wanted you to slip up between her legs, losing your pants on the way and bury yourself inside of her.. the thought and your tongue had her crying out with pleasure. "let me pleasure you.." she begged softly.
 
His tongue ventured the curve of your sex, tracing along your lips, thigh, and up, along your hip. The tip teased your abdomen, one hand stabilizing him, the other slipping between both he, and you. You could see his hips come into view, his hairy, hard pelvis pressed against your clit, as he continued to slip up, tongue teasing the valley of your breasts again, traversing your chest, and finally, resting at your neck.

There was nothing you could do for him tonight. This wasn't about him. In some small way, you had offered him sanctuary from his mind. His salvation was with your fingertips, and your words. This would be this moment.

Hot, pulsing flesh met hot, slick flesh. His eyes met yours, enshrouding you. His body was massive compared to yours, strong and firm. Soft, small thrusts as the length of his body teased your sex, before letting himself drag down, the head pressing gently against your warm body.

He breaches your body slowly, his girth stretching your body gently. Each throbbing inch passes your lips, burying slowly within you. Just as you feel as though he's going to break you, you feel the hot head of his member against your cervix, his hairy pelvis firmly planted against your clit. He holds still, his eyes locked on yours.
 
Belle squirmed beneath your tongue as it traced up her body, the size of you was a bit intimidating but she wouldn't back down now, she needed to feel you it was the only thought, her only desire.

When you were firmly between her legs, rubbing and teasing she brought her legs up and wrapped them about your hips. And when you pushed yourself inside of her she locked them at the small of your back and dug her heels into your skin almost roughly.

"Baxter.. yess" the words hissed between her lips, there was pain she wasn't a virgin but you was so hard and thick and long that her body felt as though you would split her. The feeling was delicious, nothing compared. She arched a bit an ground, urging you to move within her "please.. more" were the only words she could manage.
 
His thick shaft dragged slowly from your form, the hot ridge teasing your upper wall. As his body neared the end of yours, he pushed in again, just as deep. This was his pace; slow, and firmly, letting you feel every inch of him as he bottomed out in you.

His lips teased yours, tongue tracing the lower curve, as his hips moved. He braced himself on his knees, his hands slipping beneath you, almost cradling your form. His package, full, and quite large, rested against the lower curve of your bottom, seeming to radiate warmly against your flesh.
 
Belle wrapped her arms around you and clung as you cradled her body in your arms. Your slow pace was killing her in the most pleasurable way possible. She lifted and ground against you, she wanted more.. she needed more but for some reason she couldn't bare to beg you to move fast or harder.

She slid her tongue out to meet yours, tasting your tongue.. you were so obviously male, in look, in touch, in taste. She liked everything about you, your crabby face.. your gruff attitude your worked callused hands and now the way they were connected. She was going to come apart for a second time, very soon if the convulsing of her inner walls were any indication.
 
He could hear your pleading eyes, your yearning for more. He held deep as you convulsed. As soon as it intensified, he leaned back, taking your hips into his hand. He lifted your form, angling himself.

His hips pounded mercilessly against your body, forcing you to your toes for support. His had pelvis slammed against your tender flesh, his full testicles now slapping against your lower body. His eyes watched your form, as his throbbing shaft buried deeper in your form, the head pressing against your cervix with each deep stroke. He was relentless, his body almost demanding your immediate release.
 
Belle cried out as you began to pound into her. This is what she needed from you, and now that she was getting it her body went up in delightful flames they engulfed her, and clouded her mind until all she could think, all she could feel was you.

She very nearly screamed your name as your actions, the pounding, the throbbing forced her body over the edge. What your body demanded hers gave freely and happily, the convulsing of her walls turned to a tight clench as she bucked against you.
 
He slammed deep as you climaxed, before pulling out. His hands gripped your hands a bit more tightly, as he flipped you to your front. You were not a woman, but the object of his passions. A hand fell to your lower back, as he slammed in again, filling you.

He came over top of you, hand on your shoulders, as he pounded relentlessly. Your body was unable to respond to the firm pace and sheer power of the blows. A hand reached up, as he caught his balance, pulling back firmly on your amber hair. His teeth sink firmly into your exposed neck, his body coming over top of you. A soft growl grows in his throat, against your flesh.
 
Belle cried out in surprise as you flipped and pinned her, she'd been enjoying holding her arms around your body and now she was face first into the bed. And as you reached up and pulled her hair she tilted her head back to relieve some of the pressure on her scalp. She'd never been treated this way before, like she was solely for your pleasure and she liked it.

When she heard the growls coming from you, her entire body clenched.. she had no idea what to expect from you at this point and that was exciting and scary all at the same time.
 
His form seems to fill out even more, his body burning hot within your moist hold. His pleasure was mounting, his blows becoming erratic, and more powerful. His body angles upward, the thrusts ravaging your soft body, his abdomen slamming against your backside viciously.

The growl slowly transform into a moan, a soft howl of pleasure, proof further that he was nearing release. His strong hand grips your shoulder tightly, as he pushes down a bit more roughly, subjecting you to his needs.
 
She didn't mind being subjected to Baxter's needs in fact she rather liked being under you control like this, with you using her body for your own pleasure. You'd seen her through two orgasms and as you neared released she felt a third building.

Biting down on her lip hard as the orgasm smashed through her body harder than the first two. She imagined that you could tell that she'd reached her peak and exploded again by the way her walls convulsed and clenched hard as you thrusted erratically. She whispered your name as the orgasm seemed to continue on forever.. she wondered if you would be the type to pull out or thrust in harder when you came.
 
His baser instinct was in control now, feeling you tighten again. His body slammed deep into you, the head pressing firmly against your cervix. Bliss overtook the man, as he cried out.

Buried within you, his body throbbed and quivered within you, burning hot. Thick streams of his seed flooded from his shaft, burying deep within your body. His moan intensified, his hands gripping your shoulders tighter, bordering pain.

His body wrapped around yours from behind, keeping himself buried within you, as he rolled to his side, forcing you to follow suit. He held you tight, rasped breath against your neck.
 
She cried out as she felt you fill her body with your seed, she had the answer to the question that had been floating in her mind and she was extremely pleased with it.

When pulled over to her side she burrowed herself back against your body even more. Sighing softly she tilted her head back and rested it against your shoulder. She wanted to say something, anything.. but she didn't know what.. something like that was amazing seemed silly.. So she simply laid there in your arms feeling your breath against her neck and basked in the after glow. If you wanted words, you would have to be the one to speak them.
 
His eyes were closed, his breathing hard. He seemed to sense your searching for something to say. His grip on your formed tightened, as he softly whispered, "no words..."

His fingertips gently traced your curves, seeming to thrive on the warmth of your afterglow. He kissed the back of your neck softly, softly caressing your form. He was enamored by you, not having this sort of comfort in so long.
 
She nodded gently and let her eyes drift closed as you held to her tighter and traced your hands over her skin. She leaned into your kisses and for the first time in her life, Belle fell asleep in the arms of a man she'd just been intimate with.

Her last thought before she'd drifted off totally was that she hoped she didn't wake up alone in the bed come morning.
 
Baxter never slept in. He was up at daybreak, eager to work on all his chores. Baxter was more reliable than the change of the seasons, never fickle. His work was his greatest good in life. All that mattered to Baxter was closing himself off from the world, and his protection, to develop something that would allow him to conquer the undead menace.

Then again, he hadn't had sex since he had gotten to the farmstead.

There he was, arms still firmly wrapped around your waist, sleeping silently, seemingly exhausted from the night before.
 
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