Sugar Ren

Chapter 2

Pristine and clear, the ripples of cool azure water spread gracefully like a hypnotic entreaty to join him. Gliding across the surface was a vision of pale creamy skin and black, thick arms cutting effortlessly through the sparkling glassiness. Muscles flexing, legs kicking, his head would turn to suck in a deep breath, effortlessly propelling his massive body forward. Closer and closer he came, opening his arms into another stroke, he looked like a winged creature, divine and chiseled from white stone.

From under her large framed sunglasses, she looked down at her body, smiling as she watched the suddenly increased rise and fall of her chest. She could feel it in her throat; the sigh that was hanging, waiting, anticipating that rush of water splashing onto the cool decking as he emerged.

Hanging on his every move, it was like he knew she was watching, aware that her oiled browned skin was glistening from sweaty arousal. Turning, his chiseled back flexed and arms reached back into rhythmic cutting strokes, while his feet pushed off the the steps projecting him back into the depths. Further away he swam, like some sort of dark merman showing off.

He was a peacock, she decided, flashing all of his brilliant colors and prancing about, but he didn't prance and he wasn't very colorful. No, he was like some sort of chiseled marble deity, come to life and possessing her existence by filling it will pleasure. It was like he had a rare and limitless source of smoldering sexuality, consistently flowing and ready to be tapped.

Never really asking for anything, he seemed to have it all, or everything that he needed, as long his mouth was buried between her legs, his lips were devouring hers, or he was thrusting his enormous cock into any of her aching orifices.

Aching was the new normal in her world. After their morning fuck, she would walk around feeling stretched and used, with his imprint lingering on the inside. By mid morning the feeling would return like a faint scratching, and by late morning she was shifting in her seat feeling charged and ravenous. Without asking, or searching, he always seemed to be there; whether it was a feeling under her skin or moving silently in the background. He was an ever present energy that filled her with life.

It was glorious, witnessing him rise from the water.

Transfixed, she watched it roll and glide off the defined and disciplined muscles, twitching involuntarily, as he tread his way up the steps. Heavy heaving breaths forced the rippled row of his tight stomach muscles up and down, rising and falling, dropping the waist band of his shorts, hanging them low on his hips and exposing the tips of dark black hair. The sight forced her eyes to between his legs; looking for the outline of the miraculous flesh, it's girth at times unbearable and torturous, seducing her insatiable hunger to be connected to his body.

"Take off your pants." She said casually, completely indifferent to the background of tasking staff. HIs eyes lowered, filled with smoke and predatorial angst. "Now jerk your cock. I want it hard and ready...and you better keep it that way."

Without response, his swim trunks fell to the ground in a loud wet swoosh.

Walking toward her, one hand wrapped around the base jerking in knowledgeable pulls; he wasn't graceful, nor awkward, but making determined steps with lowered hungry eyes. He said nothing as he moved in, pulling down her bikini bottoms, tossing them to the side. Like a good boy toy, he knew his place, and that was with his head between her legs. Using his free hand to push her legs to her chest, he lowered, running his tongue in a singular flat tongued lick from front to back, ending in a languid suck of her clit.

He was born for this, she thought to herself. To make her happy, to give her pure and free pleasure, unconditional devotion, and adoration. Closing her eyes, her hand reached for his mound of silky wet black hair, caressing it like a prized show pony. Spreading her legs apart, she opening the space to allow his head to come deeper, to feel his broad round shoulders, hard like the cushion of a dense leather chair. Unable to control the bucking of her hips, her thighs hugged his head searching for stability. Weaving her fingers into his scalp, she drove his face against her undulations, crying out as his wickedly strong fingers dug into her flesh, holding on to her taught backside.

Their passions met in a dark realm of enlightened depraved desire. The words tumbling out of her were slutty and demanding, urging him to go faster and harder on her clit. Demanding that he look at her as he sucked. Looking up at her, his whiskey brown eyes were both sensual and ravenous, while his mouth was greedily slurping and lapping. Smelling and tasting her response was heady and intoxicating, stoking his ardent effort to share his adept techniques.

It must have been quite a scene, this giant hulking man- more like the devil in the flesh, grinding his head between the legs of their petite and generally sweet employer. A display of physical superiority and strength, absent of self consciousness, he was a bold vision of masculine sexuality. Submitting to the demands of the superior feminine, he kneeled in open unapologetic worship until she was flooded with blissful release.

"Sugar Ren. You are such a good toy." She whispered dreamily, watching him drink his fill, letting his groans coax out the last bursts of pleasure onto his waiting tongue.