Lucy's Oil, Lucy's Pleasure (L/A)

The rain hammered against the windows of the cabin, a frantic rhythm mirroring the frantic beat of my heart. Lucy was a force of nature, a primal scream of pleasure and dominance, and tonight, she was in charge. The aftermath of “She Wanted to Watch” still clung to us, a sticky, euphoric residue of shared lust and unrestrained abandon. But Lucy wasn't one for lingering on satisfaction. She craved more, a relentless pursuit of heightened sensations, and I found myself utterly captivated by her need. The scent of coconut oil hung heavy in the air, a testament to our previous encounter, mingling with the earthy fragrance of the pine forest surrounding the cabin.

As we moved toward the shower, the bottle of coconut oil felt weighty in my hand, a symbol of the control she was asserting. “Make sure you still have your cock-ring on,” she instructed, her voice low and demanding, a playful warning laced with anticipation. The ring, a heavy silver band, tightened around my shaft as I adjusted it, already anticipating the amplified pleasure it would deliver. The thought of her, her body slick with oil and sweat, fueled my desire, pushing me further into the depths of anticipation.

The shower was steamy, the hot water a welcome contrast to the chill of the mountain air. As we stepped inside, the scent of chlorine and damp skin filled our lungs. We began to wash one another, a slow, sensual dance of water and touch. I leaned against the tiled wall, my hands exploring the curves of her back, tracing the line of her spine with slow, deliberate movements. Her nipples were already hard, throbbing with a potent awareness, and as I twisted them between my fingers, a shiver ran down my spine. A gentle slide of my hand beneath her lips, circling her clitoris with the pads of my fingers, heightened the tension, sending waves of heat through my body.

“Do it from the back!” she demanded, her breath hot against my ear. She shifted her feet apart, providing me with the access I needed. My fingers delved deeper, feeling the exquisite sensitivity of her delicate flesh. The shower walls were slick with water, mirroring the sweat blooming on her skin. The rhythmic drumming of the rain outside seemed to amplify the intensity of our shared pleasure.

As she moved, her body arched and flexed, the muscles beneath my fingertips tensing with each movement. The bottle of coconut oil felt like an extension of my own body, a weapon of pleasure in my grasp. I unleashed a torrent of the viscous liquid onto her flesh, coating her in a thick, shimmering layer. Then, with a predatory grin, I plunged my fingers deep, attacking her clitoris with furious intensity. The sensation was overwhelming, a tidal wave of sensation threatening to consume me. She shrieked, a raw, animalistic sound of pure ecstasy, her body writhing in response. I grabbed another dollop of oil, applying it liberally to my own hand before resuming my assault. It was a frenzy, a desperate attempt to push her to the very brink of orgasm.

Her body shuddered as she fought against her impending climax, her legs kicking wildly in the water. The force of her spasms threatened to rip my fingers from her delicate flesh. But she didn’t yield, instead digging her nails into my hand, a silent plea for more. I continued my relentless assault, ignoring the burning sensation in my own flesh. Her pussy clamped down on my fingers, a powerful grip that mirrored her own determination. As she reached the precipice of orgasm, she turned, her body collapsing into my arms. We remained locked in a silent embrace, the only sound the pounding of our hearts and the relentless drumming of the rain.

“Now it’s time for you to get all my attention,” she whispered, her voice thick with pleasure. “You are under arrest! Face the wall! Spread your legs! Bend forward!” Her words were a command, an invitation to surrender my control. I obeyed without hesitation, feeling a strange sense of submission, a willing participation in her twisted game.

As she positioned herself behind me, the scent of her arousal intensified, intoxicating my senses. She poured more oil over my arse, the liquid seeping into the creases and folds of my flesh. Then, she took hold of my cock, pulling it through my legs towards her. The sensation was electric, a jolt of pure, unadulterated pleasure. She began running her hand up and down over my head, her touch both gentle and demanding. My muscles tensed, my veins bulging, as I fought to maintain control, but her dominance was too strong.

Her other hand found its way to my arse, applying increasing pressure to the opening. My cock throbbed with anticipation, feeling the weight of her touch, the promise of impending release. Then, she entered, her fingers sliding deep into my flesh. The sensation was overwhelming, a searing pain followed by an intense pleasure. I gripped her hand, attempting to resist the inevitable, but her grip was unrelenting. It was a struggle between control and surrender, a battle waged within my own body.

As she withdrew her finger, I felt a wave of heat wash over me, followed by a renewed surge of pleasure. The rhythmic contractions of my muscles intensified, pushing me closer and closer to the brink. Then, she did something that shattered my last vestiges of resistance. She dropped to her knees behind me, her body arching in anticipation. She placed her mouth over my cock, her tongue exploring every inch of its sensitive surface. It was an act of pure domination, a blatant disregard for my own pleasure.

I screamed, a primal cry of both pain and ecstasy, my body convulsing in response. Cum erupted from my body, a torrent of pleasure that washed over me, leaving me weak and spent. She continued sucking, her grip unrelenting, until my spasms subsided. Her breath hot against my skin, she licked me clean, leaving no trace of our shared frenzy.

As we stood under the warm shower, she took her time, meticulously washing every inch of my body, paying special attention to my cock and balls. The water streamed down our bodies, carrying away the remnants of our shared pleasure. The rain continued to hammer against the windows, a constant reminder of the wildness we had unleashed.

Looking at her, her eyes shining with satisfaction, I knew I was hopelessly addicted to her dominance. "Can we do it all again?!" I exclaimed, my voice hoarse with desire. She laughed, a throaty, seductive sound, and nodded, already anticipating the next round of pleasure and control. The cabin, once a refuge, now felt like a prison, but a prison I willingly embraced. The rain, the oil, and her touch – they were all that mattered. It was a night of pure, unadulterated bliss, a testament to the intoxicating power of lust and dominance. And I, her willing participant, was lost in the depths of her intoxicating embrace.

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