Tantric Adventure

Daphne was in control.

That is, at least, what she was trying to convince herself of while the plane was taking off.

"Fasten your seat belt during takeoff", the flight attendant was mechanically repeating over the speaker.

She had already done it, of course: she sat bolt upright, repeating by herself all the safety procedures. Her best friend, Maggie, was shaking her head in disapproval: "Can you just relax now?!" - "I am relaxed, Maggie!" - "No, you are not!" Maggie yanked the safety card out of her hands. "Ok, fine!" Daphne replied, clearly having trouble relaxing in her seat without finding something to do. "You remember why we're here, right?" Maggie asked, her voice clearly edged with exasperation. Daphne nodded resignedly. She did remember why she was right there on that plane: Maggie had booked a vacation, just for the two of them. Two best friends finally visiting an exotic place, finally leaving London behind for a week. Well, not just London as a city: London with the hard work (Daphne is a very busy and required architect), with all the bureaucracy to carry on, the social obligations, and London with the divorce, with all its implications in the life of a working single mum.

That is what Maggie was trying to do: to make Daphne breathe.

"Daphne, it has been so long since you had a REAL vacation. You carried on the divorce with Mark - you know how much I hate him, right? -, You worked so hard to start your own business, you grew a beautiful kid... Who is in college now, and doesn't need you around 24/7 anymore! You have plenty of assistants at work, now you need a break. You need to relax, to find some joy again!" Maggie explained patiently again, trying to convince her. Daphne agreed, but Maggie knew she still hadn't quite grasped that letting go is the goal of the week.

"I know, Maggie, let me just check the very last email and let Alice know I am taking off and I won't have signal for a while."

"Surely Alice is waiting for your message... In her college dorm... With that guy we saw her with!" Maggie smirks.

"Maggie!!" Daphne chuckles, remembering when they hid behind the college's bushes not to be seen by her daughter Alice that day.

"You see, Daphne? Alice has a boyfriend now, or whatever... Anyway, she is independent! You had her so young, Daphne, and you are only 40! Now you deserve to have some fun, and maybe someday to find love again!"

Daphne thinks maybe she is right, after all. Time to let go and have some fun.

After a long flight, they finally reach their holiday destination: "Maggie, oh my God! We are in Kerala, I can't believe it!". Maggie chose it carefully: the resort is surrounded by wild nature, with luxurious private beach access, swimming pools, fantastic local restaurants, and a rich wellness offer, including massages, yoga sessions, meditation, and all kinds of holistic treatments. In addition, Maggie didn't tell her that using the phone was strictly prohibited.

As they cross the entrance, Maggie inhales deeply, looking around amazed: "Gosh, Daphne, I feel already better!" - Then it happens. A man greets them: he is tall and fit, his brown hair is tied back in a loose tie, and his brown beard frames his face. His defined jawline gives him somehow a severe look, but his green striking eyes, warm and welcoming, soften his features.

"Welcome to Karala Resort - I am Jason, and I am pleased to meet you both."

"Nice to meet you, Jason, my name is Maggie and this is my friend Daphne." Maggie smiles brightly, shaking his hand enthusiastically - almost too enthusiastically from Daphne's perspective.

"Wonderful, welcome Maggie and Daphne! I am a massage therapist here at the resort, I offer both Reiki and Abhyanga massages, and I am in charge of the Meditation Centre. I am sure you will recharge completely here!" He hands them a brochure, and finally, Daphne's gaze is drawn to his large, firm hands. A thrill runs down her spine for a brief moment as she lingers on the thought of being massaged by those hands. Then she lightly shakes her head, as if she could physically banish the thought.

Maggie looks at her: "She must be crazy", she thinks, hoping Jason didn't notice how uncomfortable she looked - or worse, how hopeless her friend is.

"Please find in this brochure all our services, including Yoga Classes, Pilates, Ayurvedic cuisine, a variety of holistic treatments and meditation sessions. I am sure you will find activities that suit you perfectly!" - he continues, - "Now I kindly ask you to hand over your phones. As you surely know we have a very strict policy here: we want to ensure our guests can fully experience everything the resort can offer them."

Daphne freezes, then slowly turns to look at Maggie, who is proudly handing over her phone to the handsome massage therapist, intentionally avoiding her gaze. "Come on Daphne, your phone!" - "I... I must have forgotten mine in the taxi..." - "Oh no dear, you didn't! I am sure you have sent a text just one minute ago, it must be in your pocket!" She grins, finally meeting her worried gaze with a look of satisfaction. "Oh right... Then..." Daphne slowly reaches into her pocket, pulling out her phone as though it were the heaviest thing in the world. With visible reluctance, she finally hands it to Jason. "Thank you, Daphne. I know it is hard, but you will feel so relieved afterward!" He waves at them as he walks away, taking the phones with him. "Don't worry, if there is any emergency we will let you know immediately. Enjoy your stay!", he turns and heads back to his duties.

Daphne stares at him as he walks away, and just when he is far enough from the two of them she looks at Maggie nervously: "Maggie, this is ridiculous." she grumbles. "Come on girl! Just chill down. You'll be just fine. Now come with me, our welcome drinks are waiting for us." She enthusiastically replies, dragging her towards the bar on the seaside.

After gossiping, planning their holistic treatments, and downing two Long Islands, Maggie thinks back to their welcome at the resort."They sure know how to welcome two women here, Daphne," she says with a knowing smirk. "They surely do, Maggie," Daphne replies, smirking back. "Well, and I'm sure he was very pleased too... I mean... he did scan you!"

"Come on, Maggie, what are you talking about? He didn't!"

"Oh, he sure did, my dear. A good friend notices these things."

"Maggie... you notice just what you want to notice!"

"We'll see."

Maggie goes back to the last few drops of her Long Island, smiling defiantly.

The day goes by, and Daphne seems to adapt perfectly to the new schedule: doing absolutely nothing. They bathe in the swimming pool, stroll by the sea, joke about their exes, and chat casually with other guests.

"I can easily relax, Maggie, you see? I'm great at this!" she brags, settling onto the sun lounger.

Then, out of nowhere, a thought strikes her.

She nervously grabs Maggie's wrist, and Maggie nearly chokes on her Ayurvedic drink.

"What? Daphne?!"

"What time is it? I was supposed to go to my massage at the holistic centre!"

She quickly jumps to her feet and hurries away, leaving no room for a reply. Maggie lets out an exasperated sigh, then settles herself again onto her sun lounger. "Hopeless.", she mumbles.

She reaches the massage centre, but no one is at the reception desk, so she heads straight to the massage room, still catching her breath.

But when she opens the door, she freezes.

The room is dimly lit by scented candles and a red lamp, which softly outlines the curves of a male figure moving slowly but firmly. A blonde woman lies face down on the massage table: her youthful, slender figure makes her look like she's in her twenties. She is completely naked, and while her upper body is pressed against the surface, her hips are raised, held firmly by him. The room smells like incense, massage oil, and the sweat of two people devoured by passion. The wet, rhythmical sound of his thrusts blends with her soft moans leaving no room for doubt: they are having sex.

Daphne hardly believes what she sees, and she feels split between two sides: the first wants to run away embarrassed, but the second one is fascinated. They look very calm, at ease, intimate without rushing, but also deeply connected and involved. His rhythm is agonizingly slow, his thrusts deep and decided. While he grips her hip with one hand, he works with the other on her most sensitive spot in small circles, lightly. Sometimes he reaches her neck to kiss her slowly, sometimes the hand on her hip moves to caress her back and massage her with more oil.

He does not look like he is aiming to finish her: instead, he is playing with the edge of her desire, letting it build up, stretching her pleaure out slowly. "Good girl, breathe.", he murmures, watching her unravel under his touch.

When she hears his voice she realises it: the hair tied back, the height... It is Jason.

A wave of heat overwhelms her.

She closes the door and runs back to the reception desk, where the clock clearly points to 4 pm. "Damn it! I have arrived one hour early!" she mumbles. She sits there, waiting for the receptionist to come back, one leg bouncing nervously. "Without my phone, I should start wearing a watch."

When finally the receptionist arrives, she stammers: "I am so sorry but... I need to cancel my appointment, I am not feeling well."

She heads straight to her room and decides to take a shower to wash away the thoughts. But... No matter how hard she tries, she can't deny it: she liked what she saw, and the intimacy between the two of them deeply charmed her. Somehow she finds herself desiring being that girl, with Jason's hard length inside of her, throbbing for her wet heat.

Her hands slide down slowly finding her breast.

Once there, something inside her snaps.

With urgency she starts working her nipples, pinching them, her legs weakening at the thought of Jason sucking her hard peaks.

She grabs the handheld showerhead, which trails all the way down her body: her neck, her aroused peaks, and finally her swollen clit. As the hot water hits her spot, a moan escapes her mouth: the stream of water against her is the relief she desperately needed. Pressing the handheld showerhead firmly on her aching pussy, she starts drawing circles almost violently. Every stroke draws her mind to the memory of that room, leaving her breathless. The friction grows more and more intense, the pace becomes relentless, but she is desperately unable to release her urgency.

She imagines Jason leaning on her wet entrance, his hard cock slowly digging inside her. Her legs tremble with anticipation, the friction becoming ruthless, her mouth letting out harsh moans. She slides two fingers inside her hot mess, diving as deep as she can. Her walls start clenching around her fingers, the water flowing strongly on her clit: she calls him, eagerly. In her mind Jason is there, driving deep inside her over the edge. And as he shoves himself harder from behind, he whispers to her ear: "Yes Daphne, take it all, take this cock!"

She tightens up, the friction of the hot water becoming unbearable. And as she slides a third finger inside her impatiently, finally violent spasms run through her thighs, reaching every edge of her body.

She shatters with his name on her lips: Jason.

After the shower, she heads back to Maggie, who is bathing in the swimming pool, facing the most beautiful sunset they have ever seen.

"Oh my God Daphne, it's spectacular!", she says, staring at the pink-violet sky.

"So? How was the massage?" Maggie asks, enthusiastic.

"Well, yeah, it was..." she starts mumbling.

"It was?" she asks, widening her eyes.

"In the end I canceled it."

Maggie looks at her with a questioning look, raising her eyebrows. "But you literally ran there as if nothing else mattered!".

"I know Maggie, I thought it was 5 pm, but instead it was 4... " Then she explains everything she saw to her friend. Maggie's mouth falls open in astonishment, then starts laughing: "Daphne, after what you saw I can't believe you canceled the appointment! You needed a tantric massage too, a deep one!" She smirks.

"And you, my dear, need to calm down!".

They head back to their room to get ready for dinner.

"How do I look?" Daphne asks, with a nervous edge.

Her brown, wavy hair is tied back in a loose bun, with a few strands falling over her shoulders. She wears a long green dress. It is very simple, but it hugs her slender figure, revealing her soft curves. The cleavage is not very pronounced, but her back is left completely bare.

"You look gorgeous, my dear! You'll surely be noticed..." she says with a playful wink.

Daphne quickly puts on her gold circular earrings and shoes, then heads to the restaurant with Maggie, chuckling.

Once there, they are escorted to their reserved table by the waiter and welcomed with two glasses of white wine. As he walks away, Maggie notices someone sitting just behind Daphne.

"Dear, isn't that the massage therapist?" she whispers.

Daphne freezes. Suddenly, she feels a bead of sweat trailing down her bare back. She slowly turns to check, then turns back to face Maggie.

"Yes, it's him!" she whispers back, her skin turning pale. "Just behave normally." Daphne chuckles, observing her friend becoming ridiculously rigid. When they are finally served the dessert, Jason and his co-workers stand up. "Yeah John, I'll see you at the beach for the party later.", she hears him say.

"Maggie, they are going to the party too! What do we - "

She doesn't even get to finish her question: Jason finally turns to face them.

"Ladies, good evening!" His bright smile dazzles Daphne, who tries to smile back casually. "I hope your stay is going very well. Are you joining us at the party on the beach? It's going to be fun. I'd be happy to invite you for drinks."

As he speaks, his gaze lingers insistently on Daphne, who holds her breath.

It's true. He is scanning her. And he's doing it as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if she were meant to be watched.

"Of course we are going!" Maggie replies promptly.

"Beautiful! I will see you there in half an hour ladies." He walks away, his eyes locked on Daphne, who is trying to recall the sensation of being grounded, for a second longer.

Maggie waves at him, and as he turns she smirks mischievously: "I told you."

Daphne can't deny it: this time, she saw it. She saw his gaze locked on her neck, scanning down her whole body slowly, unashamed.

"It is hard to admit, but you were right. What am I supposed to do Maggie? He is clearly younger than me! And he has someone already."

"Daphne, slow down: you are not marrying him. You are going for drinks: that is all. Enjoy it, relax, and be yourself. He is probably in his thirties, so what? You still look like you were in your late twenties."

"You don't see very well, Maggie..."

Maggie offers her a shot to gather her courage, and afterward they head to the seaside.

Laughter and music fill the air: the party has just started, but people are already dancing freely, drinking, and someone is kissing.

Once there, they look towards the bar, and they finally spot him. He stands at the bar counter, chatting with some guests and co-workers casually - although his bright smile is clearly the gravitational center of the group, in particular for the female guests gathered around him.

"Maggie, he has already got good company, you see? Let's go away."

"Don't freak out. He invited us, it's not polite not to join. And he already saw us!"

As he spots them his smile gets even brighter, he genuinely looks like he was waiting for them.

"Maggie and Daphne are two new friends! Welcome!". They introduce themselves and grab two drinks, easing into the group. Even when they don't chat, Daphne feels his gaze lingering on her with an edge of admiration and lust, and each time she blushes. Then it happens: he softly wraps his arm around her back encouraging her. "Would you like to dance?"

She nods, her eyes widening when looking at him.

They walk away from the group, under Maggie's satisfied gaze. They start dancing, his hands still wrapping around her back. "I saw your name in my booking list today."

"Yes, I was booked actually! But then I felt sick..." she murmurs, lowering her gaze. "You look very well now. Actually, you look gorgeous." He replies, his hands sliding lower on her bare skin. His lips come closer to her neck, and his perfume blends with the dizziness of the drinks, making her head spin lightly. The dance becomes more intimate, as she feels his breath dangerously close to her neck. The insistent heat of his arms makes a shiver run through her, down to her thighs.

Then... His lips softly meet her neck, savouring it slowly. The grip of his hands becomes more intense, more present, as if he is trying to tell her "I am claiming you, and you can't go anywhere now."

A soft sigh escapes her mouth, her knees trembling slightly.

"Actually... I did come today." - she murmurs.

"Yeah? I didn't see you, when did you come?"

"Come on, you know. I just came at the wrong time". He looks at her, studying her reactions, his face unreadable.

"Oh, I see. So you saw Claire and me." As he says it he is completely at ease, natural and utterly unashamed.

"Yes, I did!" she fires back, not even knowing why.

He seems to sense her agitation, so he presses his hand on her back a little more firmly.

"She has been coming here for years. I'm sure she wouldn't have minded you joining us..."

The fire burning inside her makes her snap. She steps away from his arms.

"You must be kidding."

She turns and walks away, her stomach twisting with a heat she desperately tries to ignore.

She quickly makes her way back to her room, unnoticed by Maggie, who is having fun with her new acquaintances. She feels stupid for losing control over someone she barely knows, so she forces herself to go to bed, and the night passes with all sorts of good intentions. "Tomorrow I will book a private meditation session with a female teacher. This is it!".

When she wakes up, Maggie is still sleeping - God knows when she came back. After having a very healthy breakfast, she heads to the Meditation Centre. She already feels centred compared to the day before: falling back into her habits has always been her way to regain control.

Once there the receptionist welcomes her: "Welcome Mrs, your appointment is at 10 am, right? Unfortunately, Anya is not available for your private session this morning. She is sick, but Jason kindly offered to replace her today!". Her mouth falls open, she doesn't even have time to reply when the door of the meditation class opens. It's him. "Good morning, Daphne. Please, come on in."

She freezes and follows the instructions almost on autopilot, wondering if she is still dreaming in her bed.

The door closes behind her, and she finds herself immersed in a warm, dimly lit room. The room is furnished with exotic wooden elements. At the center, a cozy blanket is laid on the floor along with some cushions.

"You really must be kidding.", she mumbles.

The same smell of incense from the day before brings her mind suddenly back to the image of Jason's naked body. She blushes instantly.

He seems to notices it, and a proud smirk appears on his face.

"Are you ashamed, Daphne? You don't need to be shy. You wanted to meditate, so that is what we are going to do. Take a seat on the blanket." For a moment, it sounds almost like a threat. He is determined to keep her there, stuck with him, and to face that heavy, sensual tension hanging between them.

They sit cross-legged, facing each other: the attraction is magnetic, the intensity of his look makes her stomach twist. He is literally undressing her with his smoldering gaze.

"Meditation is a useful tool to reach a mindful presence through your mind and body. We will start by closing our eyes and breathing normally. Afterwards, we will explore some breathing techniques."

Daphne is completely lost, on one side she struggles to listen to him and on the other her restless mind takes her back to the memories of the past evening. She tries to do what he asks: in the end, it is just a meditation session. "Bring your attention to the sound of your breath, and to the movement of your rib cage."

Her eyes close, but what she sees is always Jason, his bare skin, his raw voice. After few breaths, she senses a small movement of the air, so she opens her eyes to sneak a glance. He is not sitting in front of her anymore. Then she feels it: his soft breath on her neck, again. He sits on the blanket behind her, placing his hands on either side of her rib cage softly but firmly. She shivers for a moment, caught off guard by his touch.

"Breathe into my hands. Feel your ribs expand as you inhale." His voice is relaxed, but thick with unspoken words. As her perfume filleds his senses and she starts shaking softly under his touch, his body tenses with a primal instinct he struggles to control.

"This is not for me, Jason. I should go.", she can hardly whisper.

Something in the atmosphere shifts. His hands are no longer on her. He moves away and reaches for something behind him.

"Now shut that pretty mouth and close your eyes." His voice is firm and commanding, but with an almost imperceptible sweet edge.

As she does, she feels the soft touch of fabric against her eyes. He is blindfolding her.

"Better. Now listen to me. From the moment I first saw you, I sensed your agitation, your restless mind, your desperate need for control. You always rush somewhere, but the only thing you need, Daphne, is to let go. To be still for a moment. Stay with me through this."

He places his hands back on her rib cage, this time more firmly, as though he is no longer willing to accept a refusal.

For a moment, she says nothing. Her primal instinct is to run away, just like prey does with its predator. But without seeing, she feels there is nowhere to go. And for a second she realises how nice it is to have nowhere to go. How good it feels to just stay, without a direction, without obligations to attend.

"Good, Daphne. Now you'll breathe here," his voice softens slightly as he realises it: this time, she is staying.

His hands slide down to her lower back with undeniable sensuality. While one hand remains firmly there, feeling the movements of her body, the other one slips beneath her shirt, finding the clasp of her bra.

"This is too tight..." he whispers, too close to her cheek. "Let me take care of that." He undoes her bra without asking, freeing her breast beneath the shirt.

His hands finally move freely over the bare skin of her back, starting to massage her softly. Then he slowly reaches forward towards her ankles, closing the space between their bodies, his core finally pressing against her back in a sensual hug. She feels her nipple harden against the cool air, and a soft, traitorous moan escapes her mouth.

"What a pretty sound", he whispers, his voice low and satisfied.

His hands softly meet her breast, brushing against her hard peaks into a gentle caress, almost to test her reaction. His lips trail slow and deliberate kisses down her neck, her head tilting softly to one side to ease his path down her skin.

He reaches to the massage oil, and put some on his hands. As she smells it she senses what is going to happen, and a thrill trails down her spine."Have you ever had a tantric massage?" He asks, the sound of his hands massaging the oil filling the silence of the room. "No, I have never tried..." she wimpers softly.

"Good. You are going to try now."

A shiver runs down her thighs as he reaches back to find her breast. The sensation of the warm oil on her hard nipples makes something inside her shatter: as her lips part into a louder moan she completely abandons her body onto his core, melting into pleasure. She uncrosses her legs, widening them with urgency. He senses the sudden shift in her, and he sustains her body with his wide shoulders, almost afraid she might shatters.

He finally starts pinching her aroused peaks with growing intensity, and as he does so, her hips starts jerking sensually, almost like it is impossible for her to hold back now. "Calm, Daphne. Breathe, let me take care of you." He takes off her shirt, finally being able to freely admire her bare skin: "They are even more beautiful than what I imagined." He growls behind her neck devouring her neck.

She struggles to steady her breath, her hips jerking completely out of control, demanding his presence. With one quick movement he catches one hip, steadying her movements, his grip almost bruising.

"Slow, Daphne. You have to learn to wait for it. The real pleasure is not in rushing somewhere..."

With the other hand he slides maddeiningly slowly onto the waistband of her trousers, reaching her panties.

Then, he starts stroking her through the fabric. A gasp escapes her mouth, aching for the anticipation. At the beginning the stroke is light, but very precise. He hits where she needs it the most, giving her a moment of relieve. She slightly jerks her hips again to meet his hand and increase the pressure against her clit. A louder moan parts her lips again: he stops, bringing his hand back to her hip, the grip firm on her.

"Daphne... Don't get ahead of yourself. Let me drive you to the very edge of tension." He allows his hands back to tease her heat, again with an agonizingly slow pace. But as the rhythm and the pressure increase, her moans grow desperate. Her hips brush spasmodicaly onto his hand, looking for more and more pressure.

He feels her swollen clit under the fabric and her breast stiffening under his deliberate touch: he knows she is close.

"Focus, Daphne.", he demmands, enjoying the sight of her gasping, broken by the intensity of her crave.

She can't stop. With a last desperate jerk of her hips, he feels it: the wetness of the fabric, her hot juices releasing onto his hand.

"God, Daphne, you are soaking already."

He finally frees the mess between her thighs from the damp remaining clothes, and spread her legs again to finally lay his eyes on her hot cunt.

"Did you come?" He asks, almost sweetly.

"I am very close to..." She whispers back, undoing the blindfold.

He stands up locking his eyes on her body with a smug smirk.

She finally sees him again. Her gaze is drawn to the thickness revealed through the fabric of his trousers: he must be agonizing.

"Stay there, Daphne. I want you to learn where every sensation starts and where it ends. For this, I am not going to let you come this quick."

He lowers his trousers, freeing his hard length in front of her. It is a lot for her; she knows it.

"Let me try something to calm down," she taunts him, quickly shifting position and settling onto her knees.

A bead of sweat trickles down Jason's forehead as he raises his eyebrows.

She grabs the massage oil dispenser and slowly pours some into her palms, looking directly into his eyes. She starts to draw slow circles on his bare skin: his abdomen, his legs, his crotch. Just after a while, she finally reaches the tip of his thickness. He smiles genuinely under her touch, his length pulsating into her hands. She starts moving, keeping her eyes locked on him: he forces himself not to moan under her touch, determined not to surrender control to her. The rhythm increases quickly, so she parts her lips as if she is ready to taste him, her eyes flickering with desire.

"Does this actually calm you down?", he asks with a smirk.

"Lay down.", he commands. And as she does, he spreads her legs, this time pouring the massage oil dispenser directly on her breasts. The amount of it quickly trickles down her body, reaching her cunt. "Are you in a hurry?" - he asks, his hands running through her body - "Cause I am not."

She bites her lower lip, letting him take over the rhythm again, her messy cunt slick with oil and exposed to him. His hands trail towards her entrance: one grips her leg, steadying her, the other brushes against her clit, teasing her. When finally two fingers slide in, she lets out a deep moan, wrapping her hands around his cock again.

"Gosh, so open for me..." he whispers, finally getting to enjoy the sensation of her direct skin against his hand. She starts jerking her hips again, this time trying to close the space between her cunt and his thickness. "Stay with me Daphne... I am going to give it to you right now."

She stares at his cock glistening with precum as he reaches her, his tip finally stroking against her soaked entrance. He locks his eyes on her, waiting for her reaction as his tip slides inside her.

He stays there for a while, waiting for her to break, watching her unravel with crave. Daphne's tries to move closer to meet his full lenght, hoping he will guide himself completely inside. But he stops her movement gripping her thighs, brushing insistently his cock onto her clit, letting her agonize.

"Jason, please, come in deeper... I need you inside me now" she begs, her voice turned into a helpless cry. His concentrated expression melts into Daphne's sweet pleading.

"You look so sexy when you beg me to fill you..." he whispers.

He finally slides in with a slow, intense thrust, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer to his chest.

She screams as he reaches her deepest spot, stretching her as slowly as he can to catch every spark of her body. "Fuck, you are so tight Daphne.", his voice is raw, claiming her body completely. The feeling of her clenching desperately around every inch of him makes him lose all sense of restraint. He forces himself to move slowly to let her adapt to his length, venting by eagerly devouring her neck.

Then his thrusts grow more intense, deliberate, as if nothing else matters anymore: he wants to see her unravel.

A hand slides again towards her swollen clit, and while every drive of his hips takes her breath away, every brush sends shockwaves through her oversensitive nerves.

Each thrust becomes deeper, as if he is ensuring she takes every inch of him exactly as she demanded.

His lips finally crash onto hers uncontrolled, eager, devouring her with uncontrollable passion. For a moment she breaks the kiss: "Jason, I can't hold it anymore..." she cries out, her walls convulsing around him, the wet sound of his thrusts becoming evident.

"Yes Daphne, take it all, let go for me.", he growls into her hair, his control slipping away definitely with the last, desperate thrusts inside her.

As his words hit her, her back arches off the floor. A strangled cry tears from her throat as the wave of pleasure slams into her, clenching his cock tightly.

"Fuck, Daphne you are soaking me..." he shudders, finally pouring himself into her, riding the waves of his peak.

The aftermath leaves them panting, Jason buried against her neck, simply breathing together.

He kisses her forehead, brushing her hair away from her face.

Daphne smiles: she finally was just present, right now, right there.