He watched the couple embrace passionately against the unyielding surface of her front door. It was the end of the second date, and yet the two were sucking each other’s tongues down their throats as if their lives depended upon the decadence of their lover’s mouth. The woman had her arms wrapped tightly around the taller man’s neck, and he had her ass cupped in his hands. He was kneading the plumpness, as he grinded her center roughly against his with mindless relish.

A hand came around to slip the strap of the woman’s silk tank top down her shoulder, so to give access to that tender skin. The woman shivered as her lover nipped down her neck and over her collar bone. As he pulled on the lace of her bra, a full breast tumbled from its tenuous confine into the man‘s eagerly waiting hand. He immediately latched on, his lips enclosing the dusky pink circle, his teeth plucking gently at the erect nipple.

With careful calculation, he bit down, and a strangled cry pierced the silence of the quiet street. When he moved to draw away, she pressed him closer. Encouraged by her enthusiastic response, the man’s mouth went wild. Short, sharp nips of his teeth followed long wet strokes of his tongue. He closed his lips around her, and sucked as hard as he could.

Suddenly, the unyielding door gave way, the woman’s arm twisted behind her back to manipulate the knob, and the two tumbled into the space of the entranceway. The door slammed shut behind them, and the observer watched on as the passion they displayed outside turned ferocious in the supposed seclusion of the house.

Clothes went flying left and right. His shirt landing in a bowl, decorated with little cat paws, of water. Her bra soared through the air, amazingly catching on a fan blade that was motionlessly suspended in the winter cooled room. All this they ignored, their attentions focused on slaking the burning that had engulfed the two.

Never knowing, nor caring, that they were being watched, the man slammed the woman up against a wall, eliciting a strangled cry of pain that he muffled with a bruising kiss. The woman delighted in the punishment of the kiss, the man’s tongue delving so deep that she could not breathe. She nipped back at him, biting his demanding tongue so that she could catch a deep breath through it’s retreat, and pushed herself off the wall, only to crash against it’s counterpart three feet away.

A painting, a colorful swirl on a tiny canvass, fell with a clatter to the floor as they fought for the higher ground. She was trying to loosen the belt that locked her away from heaven while continuing to graze her teeth along any surface they came into contact with. He was attempting, unsuccessfully, to push her skintight jeans down over her hips while keeping her from drawing blood with those vicious pearly whites.

Evidently fed up with her domination, the observer saw with amusement, the man slid dexterously from between the trap, causing her to stumble against the wall. He pinned her there for a moment - stomach and breast pressed flat on paint and plaster, back and ass pressed snugly with his hard body - then caught the hem of her jeans, and stripped them down her long, trim legs in one, fast move. He knelt before her, faced directly with a sexy little triangle of sky blue satin that disappeared between the milky white curves of her ass.

Hands traveled up her silky smooth legs, preceding the damp heat of the man’s mouth. When he reached the tight bubble that had intrigued him from the first, he chafed the tender skin with the coarse five o’clock shadow that shadowed his jaw and chin. The woman cried out and bucked in surprise, and the man grinned wickedly up at her. Then he was up, towering over her slight form, touching every inch of skin his hands could find.

The woman’s soft moans could scarcely be heard beneath her heavy panting. She squirmed and reared with her lover’s wicked ministrations. Her nails dug into the wall, shallow indentations scaring the soft yellow in the shape of eight, tiny crescent moons. When the man flipped the girl back around to face him, she punished him by grabbing his dick in a tight fist that brought his advance to an abrupt stop. He closed his eyes and groaned when she increased the pressure.

She then led him by his dick into her living room. The second they stepped onto the thick Oriental rug that adorned her hard wood floors, she dropped to her knees. In one deft move, she was sucking the man’s length into her mouth. Down, she pulled herself, her lips forming a wet and warm ring. Up, she explored, her tongue roaming leisurely along each crevice and curve. The man’s breath grew ragged the faster she bobbed, then calmed as she took her time lavishing attention on the strength of his desire for her.

Surprised at the uncharacteristic boldness, the observer smiled when the woman pulled the vulnerable sack that hung beneath his dick into her mouth. The usually tentative woman was now pumping the man’s length with a hand, while sucking and tonguing his balls with feigned experience. Finally, the passion always veiled behind a thin veneer of prim civility had been let loose by her handsome lover.

The man was bucking upward with each stroke of the hand, whispering foul profanities that seemed to have the affect of inflaming the woman’s ferocity. With a fist tight in her hair, he yanked her head up. She yelped, more surprised than hurt, her eyes appearing huge and innocent as she gazed up at him. He instructed that she suck his dick until he came, and only when she acquiesced with a tiny nod did he loosen his grip enough for her to obey his command.

She consumed him inch by inch, slowly taking him as far as he could go. Then, before she could react, the man thrust his hips upward while holding her head still. Down her throat his dick slid, so deep that she gagged. He pulled her head up a few inches, then down again. This time, when it filled her throat, she gulped back the reflex to expel the thickness. When he hissed out a barely audible “yes,” she swallowed again. His hand released its tight hold on her hair, and she quickly took back control.

She nibbled her way back up, drew a circle around the tip, and then swallowed him again. Along the throbbing vein, beneath the hooded cap, down to the very root of his cock, her mouth and tongue tantalized her lover until he exploded.

As the salty liquid ran down the back of her throat, the man shouted his sudden release. The woman licked him clean with the tip of her tongue, then sat back to admire her handiwork.

Dazed and replete, he was sprawled against the cushions of her blood red couch. He could hardly lift a hand, his climax draining his strength so that he was utterly powerless. And, as any women would do in such a situation, his lover took full advantage of his weakened state.

He dragged his heavy eyelids open when she softly spoke his name in her low, southern-honeyed voice. When he saw her, those heavy lids snapped open in shock.

She was sitting on an ottoman directly opposite him. Her full breasts thrust up and out with the arching of her back. She had spread her legs wide so that her completely shaven femininity was open like a flower blooming in the late spring. With one hand she viciously pinched an erect nipple, the other was busily flicking at her swollen clit. Her glittering black eyes were focused on the man’s stirring cock with a hunger that unnerved him.

Delighted incredulity rendered him just as powerless as her incredible mouth had only moments before. She pouted prettily at his motionless state, then quirked the corner of her mouth up in an impish grin. In a smooth movement that would make the most practiced stripper jealous, she was leaning stomach first on the ottoman. Her ass was thrust up in the air, and he could see everything from her dripping cunt to the star shaped fissure that was usually secreted between rounded cheeks. She was looking over her shoulder at him, sucking on a finger. Then she dragged the finger up over the swell presented to him. It traced down the valley of her ass, and his dick jumped to absolute attention when she circled the bud in the center.

She rubbed it for a moment, and then pressed the pad of her finger to the opening. The man’s eyes were riveted on that finger, held captive by her sinfulness. When she pushed it in, he was jolted from his seated position. One stride was all it took to close the distance, and then he was on his knees before her.

The woman had not moved at all, except for the finger, which she was thrusting in and out for their perverse pleasure. A thick, callused finger was jammed into her cunt. He stroked twice, finding without error the spot that made every woman scream, then abandoned it to join her own elegantly small finger in the abyss above. Together they widened her, moving in and out in diverging thrusts; she penetrating herself carefully, he pounding in his long finger harshly.

With a move she was not expecting, her lover shoved his dick into her more than ready cunt. She cried out as she was filled, their combined fingers and his thick cock making a pressure that far exceeded anything she had before experienced. She was full, so very full.

He pulled out, and then plunged in again, and again. All around him was the heat of her body, the crushing grip that pressed from all sides. He could feel the stroking fingers through the thin membrane above, and as each caress dragged down his length, the tension and heat in his loins mounted.

She was begging for more, harder, faster. He obeyed her breathless command just as she had earlier for him. The sound of skin smacking loudly against skin was sharp and high above guttural grunts and rasping breaths. The pungent smell of sex clashed and mingled with the salt of sweat. Knuckles were white with strain, eyes tightly clenched, bodies taut and rigid with indescribable pleasure.

Then, with a harsh shout, the man came, his body jolting and shuddering. The sudden pulse that preceded the surge of hot liquid was more than the woman could bear. Her muscles bore down on the gushing cock, the tremor of her orgasm rippling up and down until the sensations sent the man screaming again his climax.

The man’s body was humming from head to toe from pure fulfillment, a little jolt spiking through his body as aftershocks ran through the woman and into him. Feeling just a little guilty at the wealth of pleasure her body brought him, his free hand slipped to cup her womanhood. He took the nub and swirled it between his fingers. Flicking gently once, then twice, her body shuddered once more, and she sighed contentedly.

Their fingers left the well of her ass, and they leaned limply against the ottoman. The, sliding lifelessly to the floor, they curled around each other, and fell sleep.

A gust of wind rattled the trees as the observer exhaled noisily. He sat back from his lofty position, glad at his coupling of the two lovers, yet in pain from the neglect of his own needs. The two were perfect for each other, he knew. The man’s wildly addictive need for the most depraved sex imaginable would be tamed by his woman, and she in turn would step out from behind that modest and docile exterior in response to his all consuming desire for her.

Sometimes it was difficult, bringing about such conditions that soul mates were to find each other. Frequently, his children did not heed his gentle persuasions, or understand his subtle encouragement. They passed their other half on the streets without a backwards glance, or gave in to the hate that was all too close to love. But then there were nights like these, when his children saw true. Some waited for the words and a piece of paper that confirmed the commitment they made in their hearts, others gave of themselves; the union their promise, the release their vow.

Whenever they came together to love forever, he rejoiced. But, he admitted as he stroked his own pulsating need, it was far more interesting for him when they found love in the fire of passion. It wasn’t just the exhibition of flesh, or the flavor of the loving (though these two were far more creative than most). He could feel every stroke, every kiss if he willed it. The pleasure could, and most frequently would, become his own.

A movement from below caught his attention, and he was delighted to see the two new lovers coming together again. He leaned down to get a better view, and was rewarded to see the woman straddling the man’s lap, rocking them back and forth into oblivion. The man was holding onto the satin curves of her hips, looking up at her with loving adoration, until a breath of divine inspiration had his hands rising to her breasts. He caressed them, pressed them together, and twisted the nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

The Divine pumped his own cock as he watch, enjoying the show. He had always loved breasts. In fact, they were his greatest creation. Nothing could stir his blood like the sight of a man’s work roughened hands plying pleasure from a woman by fondling those glorious, rose tipped globes. He sucked in a breath when she arched her back, presenting her full magnificence to his gaze. Her eyes seemed to lock onto his, though he knew it was impossible, and she screamed his name as she came.

“Oh, God!!!”

He came along with her, the awe in her supplication pushing him over the edge. When his life giving essence spilled from his staff, the woman’s womb ripened with the seed of her lover, and the spark of a new life began.