Page 37 of Vienna Bliss

“I need you to touch me,” she whispered. “Please, Alexander.”

His fingers flexed on her hips and then he walked her backwards until her legs hit the bed. Alena sat, then scooted herself back. She felt soft, and yes, a little submissive, as she looked up at him. He stood over her, tall and commanding, fully dressed while she was naked.

For the first time since their encounters at the Orchid Club, she’d had time to prep and primp. She’d shaved, tweezed, scrubbed, and moisturized every inch of her body. As she’d prepared herself, her fingers had slid over her vulva and clit, her vagina and anus.

Now she wanted his fingers instead of her own.

“Show me you want me,” he said softly.

Alena lay back on the bed, and raised her hands above her head. She spread her legs, bending her knees and bracing her heels on the bed so he could see, access, not just her pussy but her ass.

“More,” he demanded.

Alena hesitated, then reached between her legs with one hand and spread her pussy open with two fingers. The slick folds of skin slid out from under her hand and she tried again, this time sliding her fingers deeper between the lips before spreading.

Alexander knelt beside the bed, his attention focused on her pussy. He hooked his hands around her thighs and pulled her across the bed.

His tongue touched her clit, a gentle stroke that lit her body on fire. Tears pricked her eyes and when he guided her legs over his shoulders and buried his face against her pussy, her first sob of pleasure was accompanied by a flood of tears.

Alexander licked and sucked her clit, her fingers now trapped between his face and her own body. She could feel him exhale through his nose against her hand, feel the hint of stubble on his chin against the soft insides of her labia.

But above all, she felt his tongue on her clit. Stroking her, toying with her. Pleasing her.

She didn’t know why she was crying, but she was.

The orgasm came slowly, so slowly that she was starting to worry it was taking too long, that he would grow tired of licking her pussy. But Alexander was focused, relentless. He lapped at her clit with long, broad strokes of his tongue, then sucked gently before switching it up to rubbing his tongue in circles. That particular move was new to her and it was wonderful, so amazing that she could barely think every time he started that.

The pleasure built, but slowly, like a pot coming to a boil. First small bubbles of pleasure appeared, slowly getting bigger and bigger.

She grabbed her breast with her free hand, pinching her own nipple. Her legs tightened around Alexander’s shoulders, her heels digging into his back.

When he tugged on her forearm, she slid her hand out from between his face and her pussy, sliding her wet fingers into his hair and forming a fist. She used that hold on his hair to pull him even tighter against her sex. Now she felt his breath on her pussy and he had to pause every so often to drag in air, which added a delicious cold sensation to the pleasure.

After a moment, he changed it up yet again and used the very tip of his tongue to flick and tap her clit. Alena’s jaw clenched and she moaned. She was close and she should say that, tell him she was about to come, if not ask him for permission to do so.

But instead she stayed quiet, her body tight as the bubbles of pleasure grew bigger and bigger.

He flattened his tongue and rubbed her clit.

Alena came. The pleasure inside her reached a full boil, and as her back arched, her legs tightened, and every muscle in her abdomen clenched as waves of pleasure pulsed through her.

And as she climaxed she was silent, the only sound her uneven breathing.

Alexander rose, holding her legs so that when he was standing, her legs were alongside his torso, her feet by his ears. He’d opened his pants at some point, his cock long and hard.

He wrapped one arm around her thighs, just above her knees, spread his legs, and then slid his cock deep inside her still pulsing body.

The sudden fullness spurred a fresh wave of pleasure. Alena’s eyes closed, her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Then Alexander went stiff, his teeth closing over her ankle, his hips slapping against her butt and the back of her thighs.

He relaxed, sliding out of her only to scoop her up and reposition her in the middle of the bed. Then he crawled in next to her, laying his head on her chest, his arm wrapped across her stomach.

Alena bit her lip to stifle the sounds of her tears. She still didn’t have a name for what they were—happy tears, sad tears, pure emotional release? A reaction to the first time having vanilla sex with him?

In the end it didn’t matter, because as the tears faded she felt utterly at peace, her body satiated by the orgasm, her soul freed of its burden by the tears.

But as she lay with Alexander, she knew that she would love this man until the day she died.

It was too bad that, according to the plan, in three short days she’d be on a plane leaving Vienna, and Alexander.