The Black Widow and the Peacock: First Date

[Ivone]

Ivone’s view went from white, to green and white, to a flash of silver. The sound of the cutting and ripping of fabric was thrilling. An almost, feral amusement made her smile. This was so different from the sweet, tender hours spent with her husband. This was no nighttime encounter with shuttered lights.

The whole experience was wanton and luxurious. She was dressed, but not, and he was still fully clothed. Exposed, her skin prickled again. He looked at her and she let him. She liked it, this exposure. Where he looked, his hands followed, leaving a trail of heat on her skin. His mouth on her skin was even hotter than his touch. So, this was what lust was like…

Ivone gave in to the attention, murmuring her approval. Her left hand dug into his hair, encouraging him to continue teasing her. The other reached for his chest, missing the mark a few times, as she worked to pop open one button, then another. She tugged the shirt, one handed, working to get the thing untucked. The remaining vest button was easily undone and suddenly, she was able to get better access to his skin.

Hand wide open, Ivone slid her hand down Aurelio’s chest toward his stomach. Where he leaned forward to tease her breasts, her fingertips barely touched. Frustrating!

Ivone tugged on his hair, ducking her head to him. She wanted to breathe him in, slant her lips across his, to taste him. She wanted to do so, so many things. Aurelio let her, for the moment, complying with her desires.

Like him, she pushed and tugged on his shirt, working to get him free of it. Ivone left the shirt half-on, half off as she pressed against him. She could feel his heart beating.

Ivone took his face in her hands and kissed him, tasting him. She sucked on his bottom lip as her hands drifted over his shoulders and upper arms.

“More!” Urgent and low.

[Aurelio]

Ivone's arm bumped Aurelio's face as she strove to touch him, and he responded with a wanton smile. He would have kissed her arm had she not taken hold of his hair. The insistent tugging was accepted, and he moved forward and up as she brought him to her mouth. They kissed, and he sucked at her upper lip even as she sucked at his lower. Her word was cut off by his tongue, his teeth. He kissed her thoroughly, leaving no illusions that he would be meek in every regard. In that way he was careful of her, skirting at the boundaries of her pleasures to see what made her tick. He was insistent without being too rough, gentle without becoming lax. He was courteous in that dance between strangers.

He was holding back.

Once he had drawn back to take breath, he gathered her to him. It was an awkward sort of height; the counter and where she sat was not level with him, leaving a need to see-saw about in order to show her how taken he was with her body. His eyes promised heat, and he lifted her free from the seat she had taken. Then, as he gripped her ass and pressed her against him even as he held her up, she would feel how hard he was.

"How much more?" The words were teasing and dangerous as he looked at her, showing her his teeth in a grin that all but promised the world.

[Ivone]

Had she been standing, Ivone's legs would have buckled as she succumbed to and met Aurelio's kisses. Another appreciative sound escaped her as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her chest against his in the warm sensation of skin on skin.

Under his hands, her panties were lightweight, negligible little things. The fabric was fine and silky-soft.

Aurelio drew back from the kiss and lifted her up. Ivone wrapped her legs higher, crossing her feet at the ankles, even as he pressed her against him. The sensation was ... delicious. If the harshness of his breath, the demand in his kisses and his gaze weren't enough, certainly the hard line of a beautiful erection left no doubt. He wanted more, too. Ivone felt like she had a fire in her head or a crazy, mad storm. She wanted to roar, to consume him, to never, ever stop. They paused and the storm raged all around them, but only inside her.

"How much more?" The eye of the storm. Ivone's breath was ragged and the look in her eyes, wild. The shadows from lack of sleep bruised the skin under her eyes, but made the color that more vivid. She returned his smile.

"ALL."

[Aurelio]

Lifting Ivone while they both still had layers of clothing in the way wasn't, perhaps, the best idea. Still, Aurelio's smile turned satisfied as he looked into her and she into him, and he walked them both to a wall clean enough of detritus to not injure her as he pushed her into it. He followed her up against it, biting at her neck as his hands made short work of her underwear. He pulled himself free, pushing his pants down to his knees (even if it would make moving at all from that point significantly awkward; who can say that logic forms at all when the blood runs hot and low?). Two points of skin there, the most important parts, and they were naked against each other.

They had made their contract, had made the decision to please each other for something more concrete, more valuable than love. No, this would not have anything to do with romance, except where it came to wooing more out of the other, playing lovers to get what each wanted. Who could have said, then, that they would each get what it was they were looking for?

Aurelio found the right angle, his face buried in her neck (marking her so there would be no doubt later as to what had passed) as he forced himself inside her. His hands had wandered back up to support her; one was freed to push up against her left breast. He wasn't teasing the nipple, exactly, his attention focused much lower, but effort was certainly put into it even as his hips bucked for the first time. The first of many more such thrusts to come.

[Ivone]

Ivone chuckled throatily as he pushed her against the door with a thump, using his body to hold her against him as he easily tore the dainty, silky fabric of her panties right off of her. The bite on her neck made her suck in a breath through her teeth and give a low moan of approval. Beneath her, brushing against her buttocks and thighs, Ivone could feel his hand moving. There was a moment where no sensations were felt at all. There was the jingle of a belt buckle. And then, oh…

Between them fell the length of him and her body clenched around nothing in anticipation. She was ready for him. Ivone was hyper-focused on that moment, breathing heavily, and waiting through the initial teasing slip across slick skin until finally, the slide of connection. Another throaty sound slipped from her, an exhale, an “ah” or “mm” of sound that could only be interpreted one way and that one a very, very positive response.

Ivone’s head fell back and to the side giving Aurelio easy access to the skin of her throat - an opportunity Aurelio did not fail to take. Once inside her, Aurelio’s cadence was purposeful –not fast, not slow. Every buck of his hips gave Ivone cause to make some sound or other. And, it didn’t take her long before she buried her head in his shoulder, fingers and muscles clenching, nails and bites leaving marks on fair skin, breath hitching, and body wrapping tight, so, so tight, around him in every possible way.

The build-up wound her tightly as he pushed in… and… in… and… gasps and moans. Ivone gave voice to her pleasure when the first release hit like a tsunami through her whole body and even, a little over his as she became slicker. Evidence of her pleasure gushed over his bollocks and even the tops of his thighs. Her throat flashed in the light when her head fell back against the door, pressing there. Her lips were swollen with kisses. Her teeth flashed in a smile of pure, unadulterated pleasure. “Yes!” Urgently, raggedly spoken followed by hungry kisses couched in moans of pleasure.

Given the opportunity, more waves would easily follow. Ivone was genuinely, unabashedly, passionately, and wholly in the moment. Passion clouded her gaze and her voice. No thoughts ran through her mind to distract her. Nothing existed but him and her and this sublime moment. The position he held her in, left little room for her to do more than enjoy what had been vacant for nearly eight months. All she could do was cling to him, bite him, dig her nails into his skin, and enjoy the waves of pleasure he gave her. Aurelio had wanted to hear her moan.

She did.

[Aurelio]

"That's right," Aurelio muttered into her hair. His fingers flexed against her, not yet tight enough to leave marks. Close. He muttered other things into her hair, sounds that could have been blasphemies for all their harshness. She would not be able to see his face, could not have looked at him to decipher his expression as he surrendered himself to her. The whole of the world narrowed down to her moans, his breath, her wetness, his thrusting. He would slow every so often to shift her or resettle her against him before resuming his steady tempo. With every sound of pleasure she made, he gripped her a little tighter. He pushed himself into her that much harder. He reacted to her, as she did to him, and for a time they were lost to that circling pattern.

How many minutes had passed before his rhythm became irregular he couldn't have guessed and didn't care, but he did slow to a jagged halt as he pulled back from the wall. His hands settled low on her hips, bringing her with him as he planted his feet and pulled away from her neck. The expression he wore was one just for her; a sardonic edge had slipped in under the little smile, lurked within the heat of his eyes. He was buried in her, was pressing her to him in a manner too intimate for the way he looked at her. There was sudden and inexplicable command in him girded by cold amusement.

Lust.

"Your turn," he told her then, even with his voice lost to an impassioned whisper. His hands loosened their constraint so that even though he held her up against him, he did not press. His lips twitched, his head tilting to one side. He was sweating. It was wholly incongruous with his image, something that was never shown in public. Aurelio simply did not put that much obvious effort into anything. Yet there, in her kitchen, skin to skin: he showed her. Hair sticking in strands to his face, down his back, against her collar-bones: he had worked to please himself, and her -- though in which order was indeterminable -- and he made no apologies for it.

In the lee of his words, he pulled her away some tiny bit, drawing himself out of her with such delicious slowness that even he trembled some small bit with the urge to begin again. "Come on," he goaded, eyes upon hers, "make me--"

[Ivone]

Eventually he slowed and Ivone made a sound as if to say, “no, don’t stop..” Her gaze found his and the look there gave her a jolt. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, eyes dark with passion. She’d been tired, nearly exhausted from lack of sleep and an onslaught of orgasms.

But then, oh...

... Those lips, that face, those eyes, the sweat… she’d managed to ruin his perfect image and she liked that immensely. She was sweat-damp as well and they were connected, as if by a web, with strands of hair, red and gold. Aurelio slowly slid the length of him fully from her. Her body clenched around him, fighting the loss, but the slow pull was delicious, too. Ivone felt him fall, heavy and straight. She was oh so aware of him.

Aurelio’s goad made her smile, a wide, hungry smile, and give a throaty purr of a chuckle. She wanted to make him, oh yes she did! She wanted him to finish as he'd started, buried deep inside her.

When she moved to slip from his grasp, he held her firm, leaving space between them. Ivone shook her head, chuckling again. She kissed his cheeks, the corner of his mouth, and his chin, even as she slipped her hand in the space he’d left between them. Her fingers wrapped around the base of his shaft and lifted, teasing them both with the feel of his tip against the heat of her. With an easy push of his hips, he’d be nestled back within her. She stroked him, slowly, up and down. She kept her legs tight to keep from falling. Her left arm was tight around his shoulder. She clung to him as tightly as she'd hugged him earlier.

Tilting her head to look him in the eyes, she murmured, “Lay down…”

[Aurelio]

The intake of breath was sudden, and full of anticipation. He leaned against the door she'd previously been pressed against. His expression didn't show what she made him feel, but it was all there in his hands as he squeezed her against him.

"Will I get something good?" He lowered his head, tilted it forward so his forehead rested against hers. He didn't bother to look her in the eyes. He looked down. Smirked. Their lips were perilously close once more; a different danger from the cease-fire below.

[Ivone]

Ivone's reply was punctuated by the rhythmic stroke and pull of her hand and the back and forth rub of the tip of him against warm, pliable, wet flesh. The flat of her other hand rested against the door now that his back was upon the door. With his forehead against hers, everything was just an out of focus blur of color. So, she ended up looking down as well. There was the swell of her breasts, acceptable, but not overly buxom. Her arm, her body, his body.. together. Ivone liked the view. She smiled a little, though she was unaware of doing so.

"There's only one way to find out..."

[Aurelio]

The noise that Aurelio made then, as he slid all the way down the door, was desire and demand all wrapped into one. He did not lay down as Ivone had asked, but sat instead. It was a careful process, arranging his legs beneath her and her over them so she sat in just the right position, nearly over him. Temptation was there, and he fought it; it showed in the way his hips flexed under her, an unconscious movement more instinctual than anything else. He wanted her, oh Teodinus did he ever, but he maintained near perfect control. The symptoms were there for her to find, and that was all he was willing to give.

Finally she was settled, and he slid his hands over her hips. One rested there as if to ensure she didn't get away, while the other lifted up to her hair. Red and gold, entwined: he curled a strand of hers around his finger and brought it to his lips. This time he looked her in the eyes. "Will this do, m'lady?"

[Ivone]

In reply, he growly-groaned at her. Perhaps it was the squeeze of her hand, she wasn't sure, but the sound was a reward. Ivone wanted more of those. She made her own sound in response, an approval with a happyish chuckle.

"Will this do, m'lady?"

"Oh... yes." Ivone replied with as close to a purr a woman's voice could have.

Now that her knees could touch the ground, she lifted up and shifted her hips, using only her body to draw him back in. As slow as she could, she slid down onto him. Ivone fit them back together like perfect puzzle pieces, continuing the slide until he was fully and completely inside of her. Ivone's reply coincided with this motion.

She reached for his face, cupping it. Ivone pressed kisses to his forehead and temples. She lifted his chin and kissed his cheeks. She kissed his neck and used her tongue there. Her teeth pressed into his earlobe.

Ivone lifted his free hand and kissed his palm, pressing little bites in the flesh just beneath his thumb. Her kisses, tongue, and teeth followed the path of his arm, wherever she could access flesh, back to his collarbones, his neck, his chin, and his face. Kissing, biting, nibbling, tasting, sucking... all were accompanied by two things: the rise and fall of her hips as she began to ride him and the occasional soft, moan of pleasure as the tsunami began to build again.

With the build of that sensation, she moved just a little faster. One hand rested on his shoulder, clenching and unclenching. The other against the door, her nails making a scrabbling sound. Every so often, the slap of skin on skin punctuated staccato breaths - her buttocks on his thighs. Her breasts bounced in his face. Any moment now...

[Aurelio]

It was an awkward angle for Aurelio. It was also the point of the encounter that any and all thoughts truly disappeared. He pushed his face between her breasts, turning his head to nip at one before moving so he could suck on the nipple of the other. Time passed for them like that, moment to moment in an unending stream of them, captured like eternity and passed before it could be truly appreciated. He lived in those moments, with no thought for anything but the feeling, the sensation, the pleasure.

The next sound he made signaled his surrender, if it could be called that. His hands moved back to her hips to hold them steady as his own lifted from the floor. Awkward angle be damned. He moved her a little, shifted himself with another sound of frustration, and pulled her against him as his hips moved up. The tempo had increased. It was a countdown.

"Ivone," he muttered at her, breath scalding along her sternum and across her right breast. He groaned. "Ivone."

[Ivone]

As the next wave of sensation began to build, Aurelio's words floated back into her head. "Whatever passes between us. It will be empty."

Will it dawn on him that the encounter was not for the contract between them, but for contact between them? The kisses she'd given were sweet. For all her intelligence and anger, she was still a young woman lost in her grief. This physical contact grounded her, took away the numbness that ruled her everyday. In this moment she was not flat as paper, but vibrant. In these moments, she was a sensualist, reveling in every thing. The sensations were a diorama in which she immersed herself. Emotionally, she was not connected except for the sensations, but feelings from sensations are different from those that exist when the moments are not happening. For Ivone, what was passing between them was not empty - it filled the emptiness in a new way.

And, it was this and her own sweet and generous nature, one that was eclipsed by this new grieving Ivone, that made her slow her movements. Ivone was, for a time, back the young woman happily married and well-taught. Ivone wanted to hear him moan, wanted to give him pleasure, too. And, so her next actions were done out of that desire and nothing else.

Tian had told her the tip of a man was a very sensitve part. He shared with her that fast strokes were good and so were long, deliberate ones. He shared that being fully inside her felt good, too. He was her only point of context. Tian had been her first and only lover. Ivone's time had been spent being the dutiful, good girl and when married the dutiful, good wife. Love-making had not been part of her training until after her marriage.

Ivone began to deliberately lift up as far as she could onto her knees. She lifted until Aurelio's body almost, almost left hers and rocked up and down just upon the first inch or two of him. This was done four or five times and followed by a sudden slide all the way down with hard smack against his thighs. Aurelio was built differently than Tian in obvious ways. Aurelio filled her in ways Tian did not.

She wanted to give Aurelio pleasure, but gave herself pleasure, too. So, even though she wanted to do as he had done, focused on just his pleasure, she couldn't. The sensations won out and escaped her in the sounds of 'ahs' and louder moans of pleasure with every slide, slide slide, slam.

He rewarded her efforts with another sound. 'YES."

Harder, deeper became the norm until the tsunami hit again. Ivone's whole body tightened, not just around him inside her, but around him completely - the muscles in her thighs tensed, her arms. Ivone quivered and stopped taking in breaths. And, then... and then... He called her name. NEVER, never had anyone called out her name like that, NEVER.

"YES!," Urgently said, followed by pants of pleasure, inhale, exhale - hhh.. ah ... hhh.. ah.. "YES!" He moved her, ground his fingers into her hips and began to thrust into her from below her. Excitement. Pleasure. "YES...." Hhh ... ah.. hhh....ah! Who was there to hear her but him, after all? She could be as loud or as quiet as she wanted.

A gush of wet was accompanied by a loud moan. The wet pooled in Aurelio's lap and slid down between his legs, coating his bollocks and the insides of his thighs in warm wetness. Some even slipped over the side of his hips. This was the second time he'd made her gush like that. Before him, it had never happened before. Ivone hoped it was normal, but didn't really care because it felt so good. A chuckle even escaped her and a smile, "YES!" And, now, more than ever, Ivone wanted to give him pleasure.

The up and down movements became more erratic. She was lost to the sensations, but still she wanted to "make him" as he'd told her to. What was it called that making him? Tian had never finished the sentence. She wanted to tell him to, but didn't know what to say. So, instead she said,

"GIVE ME..." followed by another loud moan of pleasure. "Aur.. hhh...ah! GIVE ME..." Somehow, somehow she was able to keep her eyes open so she could watch him, even as she shuddered through smaller little earthquakes. She didn't want to close herself off with her eyes closed, lost in her own pleasure. Whatever it was, it might be empty for him, but she just didn't care. For her, it was not. She still wanted to see him. She wanted to share the pleasure, because she didn't know how to do it any other way.

"YES! GIVE ME..." hhh...ah... Ivone was smiling at him, joyfully, pleasured and pleasing. Her eyes almost, almost closed as another wave of pleasure hit her. She bit her bottom lip through the wave. Did this count as getting something good?

[Aurelio]

It was almost as if Ivone's loudness was an aphrodesiac, the way Aurelio responded to her. He didn't even look at her, such was the intensity in him in that moment. His whole body was tensed, everything focused in upon her and himself and the way their bodies moved against and with the tide that came upon both of them. They were tied then, inseperable. Not even the changers themselves could have taken him from her then. But it wasn't until she tried to speak his name, until she covered him with her orgasm, that he moved them.

It happened too fast for thought. One moment she was on top of him, and the next she was under him, on her back. He took her thighs in his hands, pressing them towards her stomach even as he braced himself with them. Their rhythm faltered, caught, and then he was slamming into her, each stroke met with a grunt. He looked down upon her, eyes shadowed, mouth open with exertion. His sweat landed upon her neck and collarbones, dripped from his hair and the tip of his nose. She drove him to frenzy, and he did not fight it.

One of his hands moved from her thight to her breast, and though he gripped it with certainty there was no teasing in it -- his fingers demanded release from her. His whole body curved in around her, his head dipping lower and lower until his hair pooled and stuck to her skin, mixing with hers and possibly even getting into her mouth. His forehead, and then his lips, his teeth: they were pushed into the hollow between her neck and shoulder. Whatever sounds he might have made were muffled, channeled into the heat and the rush of sex.

He came in her and groaned as if he had found his salvation. He bit down, and sucked, and his hips moved as if pulled by some inexorable force. Nothing existed but her, and him. Nothing existed but them, together. He shuddered, giving credence to that thought. Almost as if she was the only thing that mattered to him, he clutched at her. He stayed like that, his weight pressing into her moment by moment, until he finally gave out. He let go of her leg, her breast, and leaned his elbows against the floor on either side of her. His head moved out from the crook of her neck, and he breathed as if it was his first breath, even though both her hair and his had found its way into his mouth. He did not move out of her. He did not say a word. Yet, his hands that had fisted on either side of her moved with no little amount of hesitance to her shoulders, where his fingers curled around her. Gently, with such tender care, they squeezed her.

[Ivone]

His body covered hers completely, so she wrapped herself around him and held him. She could feel the pounding of his heart against her chest. Taking a breath, they competed for space for the span of it, until her breathing pattern adjusted to his. She breathing out, when he breathed in. Her head rested in the curve of his shoulder. She had felt him throb inside her, too. Languid contentment filled her and curved her mouth into a smile. The calm after the storm was a quiet moment without thought. Her eyes closed and she floated between wakefulness and sleepiness. Aurelio's hands squeezed her shoulders gently.

"Stay..." she murmured, contentedly and sleepily.