Destined to Feel by Indigo Bloome Read Free Book Online
Authors: Indigo Bloome
are bucking against mine as my weight pins her to the floor. And then the wax starts to cool against her delicate pink buds. I need to distract the tsunami building within my balls, so I carefully place the candles down, keeping one close by and I wait till her need for me inside her replaces the sensation of heat penetrating her nipples.
‘Fuck me, please, for god’s sake, Jeremy, fuck me, NOW!’
It would be rude to deny such a delicate, polite request.
I quickly raise my body and gently flip her over, lifting her gorgeous arse into me so she is positioned on her knees and elbows. I make sure I position my penis slowly and carefully into her moist vagina, allowing her surrounding cushioned flesh to feel full and tight around me.
There is nowhere else on earth my cock would rather be.
‘JEREMY!’ Her patience is non-existent and she pants her frustration into the carpet, her swollen wax-capped nipples dangling in the air towards the rug below. Her body looks fucking sensational from this perspective. I pick up the candle by my side and pour a steady stream of the melted wax on to the top of her crack ensuring its predetermined path flows directly downwards. Her behind bucks and jolts with the shocking intensity of the sensation, and she releases an almighty scream as her vagina tenses around my cock causing tight, twisting exquisite pleasure as I explode into her. We lose ourselves in the magical connection of each other’s bodies and simultaneous orgasms rip through our muscles before she ultimately surrenders beneath me.
From the moment I laid eyes on her, I sensed she was the one for me, the connection to my heart and my soul. But we were too young, had so much of life to explore. I had to test the boundaries outside my feelings for Alexa, push her away before I understood how much she meant to me.
The years flew by and my feelings grew deeper, more intense, my connection to her like the root structure of a majestic rainforest tree in fertile soil.
PART TWO
Emotions occur precisely when adaptation is hindered for whatever reason.
— E. Claparède
Alexa
As I come to, my head hurts and my body feels heavy. I’m sitting up but my limbs are securely bound, restricting all movement. I am travelling smoothly through a crowd, people rushing in every direction. I can only see fast-moving legs and bodies and I have to look up to see into their faces which makes me dizzy.
I realise I’m strapped to a wheelchair. My heart pumps fast with adrenaline fuelling my fear as the clarity of this nightmare crystallises in my mind. I attempt to scream, only to discover it’s stifled, my mouth taped shut. I look down to see full-length black robes covering my clothes. I shake my head but my hair, nose and mouth are covered by the same material. Only my eyes are open to the outside world, one pair of petrified green eyes that can’t talk or scream; they can only gaze out towards the normality that surrounds them. Someone has dressed me in a burqa. I am horrified. It isn’t right to use religion in this way. No one can see that I am held captive under these garments. Amidst the bustling activity, I am completely incognito. I’m too low for people to discover the terror in my eyes and, anyway, they’re too focused on their own business to notice.
We glide through a security gate with barely a glance from the bored-looking female guard. I silently cry out to her as we pass, pleading with her to look directly into my eyes so she can detect something is fundamentally wrong. Efficiency and effectiveness triumphs over potential security delays as I am guided to the disabled access with a curt nod from a face lacking a smile.
I try to struggle but can barely move as we continue our uninterrupted journey towards the platform and the awaiting train. I hear broadcasts in English and French announcing imminent departures. Oh god, they’re taking me out of the country. Jeremy’s tortured face flashes through my mind and a wave
‘Fuck me, please, for god’s sake, Jeremy, fuck me, NOW!’
It would be rude to deny such a delicate, polite request.
I quickly raise my body and gently flip her over, lifting her gorgeous arse into me so she is positioned on her knees and elbows. I make sure I position my penis slowly and carefully into her moist vagina, allowing her surrounding cushioned flesh to feel full and tight around me.
There is nowhere else on earth my cock would rather be.
‘JEREMY!’ Her patience is non-existent and she pants her frustration into the carpet, her swollen wax-capped nipples dangling in the air towards the rug below. Her body looks fucking sensational from this perspective. I pick up the candle by my side and pour a steady stream of the melted wax on to the top of her crack ensuring its predetermined path flows directly downwards. Her behind bucks and jolts with the shocking intensity of the sensation, and she releases an almighty scream as her vagina tenses around my cock causing tight, twisting exquisite pleasure as I explode into her. We lose ourselves in the magical connection of each other’s bodies and simultaneous orgasms rip through our muscles before she ultimately surrenders beneath me.
From the moment I laid eyes on her, I sensed she was the one for me, the connection to my heart and my soul. But we were too young, had so much of life to explore. I had to test the boundaries outside my feelings for Alexa, push her away before I understood how much she meant to me.
The years flew by and my feelings grew deeper, more intense, my connection to her like the root structure of a majestic rainforest tree in fertile soil.
PART TWO
Emotions occur precisely when adaptation is hindered for whatever reason.
— E. Claparède
Alexa
As I come to, my head hurts and my body feels heavy. I’m sitting up but my limbs are securely bound, restricting all movement. I am travelling smoothly through a crowd, people rushing in every direction. I can only see fast-moving legs and bodies and I have to look up to see into their faces which makes me dizzy.
I realise I’m strapped to a wheelchair. My heart pumps fast with adrenaline fuelling my fear as the clarity of this nightmare crystallises in my mind. I attempt to scream, only to discover it’s stifled, my mouth taped shut. I look down to see full-length black robes covering my clothes. I shake my head but my hair, nose and mouth are covered by the same material. Only my eyes are open to the outside world, one pair of petrified green eyes that can’t talk or scream; they can only gaze out towards the normality that surrounds them. Someone has dressed me in a burqa. I am horrified. It isn’t right to use religion in this way. No one can see that I am held captive under these garments. Amidst the bustling activity, I am completely incognito. I’m too low for people to discover the terror in my eyes and, anyway, they’re too focused on their own business to notice.
We glide through a security gate with barely a glance from the bored-looking female guard. I silently cry out to her as we pass, pleading with her to look directly into my eyes so she can detect something is fundamentally wrong. Efficiency and effectiveness triumphs over potential security delays as I am guided to the disabled access with a curt nod from a face lacking a smile.
I try to struggle but can barely move as we continue our uninterrupted journey towards the platform and the awaiting train. I hear broadcasts in English and French announcing imminent departures. Oh god, they’re taking me out of the country. Jeremy’s tortured face flashes through my mind and a wave