Night Fire
By Jedi Knight
This is a fictional story, any resemblance to real people is purely
coincidental. It contains sexually explicit material not to be read by
anyone under the age of 18 (or 21 in some areas).
This is not to be reposted without written permission from the
author, and is for the sole use of the individual reader.
Copyright 1996, all rights reserved by Jedi Knight.
The house was dark when he came through the front door. In spite of
that, it did not feel empty as most houses would have. There was an air
of expectancy, or holding ones breath, that he could not dispel. He laid
his keys and a crumpled newspaper on the table next to the door into
the den. It was then that he noticed it.
It tickled his nostrils at first, almost on a subconscious level, making
them flair instinctively in an attempt to gather more the faint fragrance.
The scent was an unfamiliar one, and more intriguing for all of that. He
stood silently in the darkness with his eyes closed, slowly inhaling the
rich subtleties of it, the tiny hairs at the nape of his neck rising.
The growing heaviness of his swelling manhood sent a feathery touch up
and down his spine, and spurred him into motion. Following the scent
hanging in the still air led him slowly down the hallway toward the back
of the house, toward the bedroom.
Approaching the doorway to the master bedroom, he could hear the
faint strains of classical music floating on the air, as if in accompaniment
of the of the exotic scent. When he placed his hand on the door frame,
the music reached a minor crescendo, as if to announce his arrival.
Looking into the room, at first he could see only the faint glow of a
small candle on the small night table next to the huge bed. As his eyes
adjusted to the dimness, he could see the barely discernable outline of a
woman's shoulder and breast. The face was obscured by the fall of her
dark hair, except for her lips, which gave off a faint glow of even in
the dim light of the tiny candle.
"I've been waiting for you," she said, her voice low and husky. The
sound of her voice sent shivers up and down his spine. Without
warning, his throat was dry, and the well-fitted dress slacks he wore
were suddenly very tight and constricting around his thighs and groin.
"Who are you?" he managed to get out in a whisper after swallowing
several times.
"Don't you know?" Her soft, melodic laughter came him clearly from
across the room. "You should, you know."
As she spoke, he could see the faint light of the candle reflecting from
her moist lips in hypnotic fashion. His eyes locked on them, as if they
were focusing only on that, seeming to grow until they filled his entire
field of view. He dared not move, fearing that the spell would be
broken, and he would find himself standing alone in an empty room.
"I want you to do something for me," she said. He could only nod his
head, struck silent by the apparition in the bed. "I want you to slowly
take off your clothes, right there where you are, where I can see
everything." Her sultry voice caressed him gently, washing over him
like the warm, sunlit waters of a tropic sea.
Slowly, without taking his eyes from her lips, he began to unbutton his
shirt, pulling his loosened tie off at the same time. As he pulled the off, the cool air in the room washed over his flushed skin, causing his
nipples to harden and the muscles of his chest and arms to tighten,
giving them a chiseled look in the dim light. The and tie dropped
to the floor, instantly forgotten.
"Now the shoes," she said. He could hear the faint rustle of silk as she
shifted her legs slightly on the bed. He was forced to reach out and
brace himself against the door frame as he loosened and removed first
one, then the other shoe and sock. When he stood erect and looked at
her shadowed face again, he drew a sharp breath. Her left hand was
languorously caressing the contours of her right breast; little feather
touches first one place, then another. The faintly pink nipple reacted
almost immediately, swelling until it stood up from her in arousal.
She rolled the hard flesh gently back and forth between her thumb and
forefinger, tearing a low gasp from her throat with the intensity of the
sensation. His pulse raced, causing his cock to swell painfully in the
confines of his slacks.
"Don't stop," she whispered. "I want to see it. I want you to make it
hard for me."
Even as she spoke, he began to loosen his belt and unbutton the pants.
The extra room created by the loosened clothing caused his cock to
swell even more, feeling as if it were on fire from the hot blood racing
through it and the rest of his body. He heard her sudden gasp at the
bulge in his shorts, while her fingers stroked and caressed her with more intensity, the entire globe seeming to swell visibly. He slowly
began pushing the pants down over his buttocks and the fully inflamed
length of his manhood. After a moment of struggle the clothing fell free
of his hardness into a heap around his ankles. He stepped forward a
pace to stand completely naked before her, his cock jutting out in front
of him, almost painfully swollen, the throb of his pulse causing it to
jump up and down slightly at each beat.
He stared at the figure on the bed, watching as she changed position.
He could now see her legs as they lay spread open on the bed, and the
outline of both showed the puckered aureoles and hardened
nipples. He watched her move both hands to her nipples and savagely
twist and squeeze them, causing her to cry out sharply. The her left
hand dropped down to the inky blackness between her legs. He could
just see the top edge of her lush growth of glistening in the
candlelight. His cock jumped as he heard the sound of her hand
caressing the moistness between her legs, but he could see nothing, and
could still not see her face.
"Take hold of it, stroke it for me!" she gasped, her right forefinger
pointing at his cock.
He could smell her arousal now, as well as hear the sound of the
wetness as she caressed herself more rapidly. He grasped his cock
almost as if it were fragile glass, shivering at the intensity of feeling. He
began to stroke it from the base to the head, slowly, knowing
instinctively that he could not last long. Each time his hand slipped over
the head, the incredible pleasure rocked him to the core. Knowing he
could not stop now even to save his life, the rthym of the strokes
increased, matching the pulsing in his temples. His other hand reached
down and to life and squeeze his balls, applying pressure to the delicate
flesh. He looked down at his cock, momentarily slowing his hand, then
looked back up at the parted wet lips of the woman. She was feverishly
running her tongue over her lips and teeth, her breathing ragged and
shallow.
The entire world, maybe even the universe, became concentrated in that
room. The sound of her breathing, the little gasps, the liquid sound of
her self manipulation, his hand moving as if in slow motion on the
incredible heat and hardness of his cock distilled time and space into that
one instant and place. He felt as if they were connected by an invisible
bond. Suddenly, he felt his balls contract violently. The entire core of
his being convulsed in a muscular spasm so intense it was excruciatingly
painful, yet intensely pleasurable, at the same time. His hand held his
cock in a grip of steel, pounding up and down the length of it as fast as
he could make his muscles respond.
The first jet of was ripped from deep inside his straining core. The
searing path of fire led from his balls, through the center of his being,
and out the end of his cock, tearing a gasping moan from his lips and
forcing him to his knees. Dimly, he heard the woman take a deep
shuddering breath. He could see her thighs straining as she lifted her
hips from the sheets. Her hand, one at her torturing the nipple,
the other straining at her now visible clitoris, shook convulsively as she
rode the crest of her orgasm. He heard her scream hoarsely in passion
he her hips slammed again and again into the mattress. In tandem, their
own pleasures fed the other, prolonging it, her orgasm flooding her labia
and thighs with wetness, his firing after of in huge arcs
toward the bed. Gradually, their bodies gave up, their nerves beyond
feeling, utterly satiated as their labored breathing filled the room.
After several eternities, their breathing slowed and they became aware
of each other again. The woman moved until she once again rested
against the headboard of the bed, the light from the candle flickering
across the sheen of perspiration on her body. She extended her right
hand toward him, beckoning. He rose shakily to his feet and took a step
forward. He knew the rest of the night was going to be beyond dreams
or any fantasy.
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