41. Goddess of Sex and Magic
CHAPTER 41
Goddess of Sex and Magic
ALISTAIR
I can hardly breathe I’m laughing so much. The way long-limbed Ivy is slipping in the slime makes me think of a newborn giraffe. It wouldn’t be that funny but we keep setting each other off and are currently bordering on hysterics.
“Stop laughing!” she howls. “Come save me!”
For some inexplicable reason, we both find that hilarious, and another bout of laughing ensues. I take off my clothes and get in carefully, keeping my body weight low to the ground to avoid becoming a slapstick statistic, then crawl, slipping and sliding, over to Ivy.
“I’m here to rescue you,” I announce, breathless from laughing.
“I should drown you in this,” she replies. “You set a trap, and I fell for it.”
“No, no, no,” I assure her. “Not a trap.”
“Said the spider to the fly.”
I reach out to touch her, but she has other ideas. She pushes me with her foot, and the small shove sends me skating in a circle.
“Oh, is that how it’s going to be?” I ask, remembering our impromptu wrestling match on the tarpaulin at the villa.
“Yes,” she replies. “I will not crawl willingly into your … mandibles.”
I chuckle. “Mandibles? I seem to have been unknowingly downgraded from Kraken.”
“Perhaps that would be more fitting, given the seaweed situation.”
I crawl over to her again, and this time she doesn’t push me away.
Ivy rubs the slime on her arms. “It actually feels quite nice, when you get used to it. Everything just … glides.”
My cock twitches, thinking of how I’d like to glide into her. I pull her towards me, and there’s nothing she can do about it. She doesn’t shriek like I expect her to.
“Don’t make me laugh again,” Ivy pleads. “My abs can’t handle it.”
I start stroking her, my hands sailing over her skin. Her tits feel as amazing as they look. Zero friction, all glide. I spend time massaging her breasts, enjoying every square inch of them, her nipples like pebbles. Ivy reaches for my cock, and her touch feels incredible, so smooth and silky.
“Wow,” she says. “This is so cool.”
With her hand stroking my cock, I start on her pussy, gently feeling her labia and clit, enjoying the odd but pleasant sensation of everything being so slick. Usually, I’d take my time penetrating her, but with everything so slippery I can’t help sliding my fingers inside her. They glide right in, and she gasps in surprise and pleasure.
“Okay?” I ask.
“Fuck, yes,” she replies. “It feels really good.”
“So now you like it?”
She pants a little. “Yes. Can we get a slime pool for your dungeon?”
“Hmm,” I say, non-committal. I’m all for cutting-edge kink but the cleanup would be decidedly unsexy.
Ivy gasps again as I add another finger and use my thumb on her clit. She increases her grip pressure on me, making me echo her sharp inhalation. Stroking each other, we get lost in the sensation as our climaxes build.
“Holy shit,” exclaims Ivy. “I’m getting close.”
“I want you to come on me,” I say. “I fucking love being inside you when you come.”
Ivy exclaims again. “Well,” she pants. “What are you waiting for?”
“I want to draw it out. It’s been too quick. I want to savor it.”
“But I’m so close,” she moans.
“You’ll have to wait,” I say.
Ivy locks my gaze. “Tell me what it was like to fuck Freya.”
“Jesus, Ivy.”
She squeezes me harder. “Tell me what it was like to fuck us together like that.”
“It was … incredible,” I say. “The best.”
“The best threesome?”
“Yes,” I say. “By far.”
“How many have you had?”
“Threesomes?” I ask, my voice terse, trying to keep my cool despite the intense pleasure I’m feeling being stroked by her nimble fingers while mine are being clenched inside her. “I don’t know. A few. They all pale in comparison. Because of you.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“Nope,” I shake my head. “No. Truthfully.”
“Tell me about the best part,” she says.
I inhale deeply. “The best part for me,” I say, “was when I was going down on you, and Freya was sitting on your face.”
Her hand works faster, so I adjust my pace accordingly.
“And then?”
“And then fucking you while she put her nipple in your mouth. And then feeling you come so hard around my cock.”
Ivy exhales sharply. “I’m going to come.”
“Wait,” I say. “I have to fuck you. I can’t not fuck you.”
“Yes,” she says, nodding, looking into my eyes. It’s dim but I can see the desire in her eyes. “I think ‘Freya’ should be our accelerator word.”
“Like, the opposite of a safe word?” I ask, flipping her onto her hands and knees. We slip a bit, but remain in control. There is no laughing now.
“Exactly,” she huffs. “Goddess of sex and magic.”
I guide my cock—which feels like it’s about to explode—into her slippery swollen hole. The fit is so tight that she gasps.
“Christ,” I moan. Entering Ivy is always the most erotic feeling in the world.
Nothing compares.
Nothing.
“Ivy,” I murmur. “You are the best thing. The very best thing… that has ever happened to me.”
Despite being positioned away from me, she turns to look. Her expression is emotional like it always is before she comes.
“Fuck,” she says. “Fuck, Alistair, I fucking love you. I love your cock. Your lips. Your tongue. Everything about you.”
I can’t hold on anymore. I start thrusting with abandon. The slime allows me to go quicker and deeper than ever. I’m smashing into her, into her A-spot, into her cervix, my cock bulging as if it’s about to burst. Ivy takes turns moaning and sobbing. I know this type of orgasm. I know it can push a woman over the edge in the very best way. I’ve had an ex-girlfriend “hate” me for “destroying her orgasms for the rest of her life”. This kind of orgasm brings everything to the surface—the pain, the joy, everything. It’s transformative—and I’m feeling it, too. I may not be sobbing, but my heart is open and raw. That particular ex also gave me credit for her tripling the profit of her business because of her explosive orgasms, although I never understood the correlation.
“I can do anything to you?” I ask.
“Anything. Everything,” she replies in between her gasping and groaning.
I reach to put my fingers into her mouth. She sucks them hard, the wet pressure almost making me come. Making me imagine it’s my cock in her mouth. With my other hand I strum her clit, then get a handful of slime and rub it on her lower back and over her ass, her beautiful satin moon of an ass. I’m still thrusting. Ivy’s still crying as if she’s on the edge of a huge climax. My lubricated finger circles her starfish, gentle and unobtrusive, slippery and slick. Fuck, I love the feeling of it. The savage part of me wants to demolish her anus like I’m piling into her pussy, thrusting and exploding into her. I hold back. There will be time for that. Preparation is essential. In the meantime, I can’t help it, but I have to have some of it now.
I pull out. Ivy makes a disappointed sound. I know what she’s thinking. She was so close to one of the best orgasms of her life. Little does she know that I’m here for that. I’m here for everything.
“Two minutes,” I tell her. “Just give me two minutes.”
I see her head bob, nodding. She trusts me.
I return my slick fingers to her clit, stroking slowly while I lean in to kiss the small of her back, her jutting hips, the cheeks of her butt. I scoop more slime and push my fingers back into her pussy. She takes three with no problem, so open and accommodating. So slick. Fuck.
I circle her starfish with my tongue, barely touching it. The skin is so responsive, so delicious, but when I hear her moaning I can’t help zeroing in. Soon my circles are tight and targeted, and Ivy’s pitch is so high I know that I don’t have much time. Her huge explosion of an orgasm is a sure thing—just a matter of time. The tip of my tongue finds her dark opening and I can’t help breaching the forbidden. I push it in, and the ubiquitous slime enables an easy entrance. Too easy. Now I want it all.
“Fuck!” shouts Ivy, her pussy muscles clamping around my fingers. “Alistair. Fuck. Fuck!”
I add another finger. Everything is so exquisitely lubricated. I need to move slowly, carefully, or risk her coming too soon. The longer we wait, the better it will be.
I exhale once, then again. Jesus. Ivy’s crying, and it makes me feel powerful. I rock into her, and then return to her moon with voracity, tonguing, licking, and penetrating while she yelps. Her G-spot is so ready; I can feel the ridged bulge. I don’t want this to end, but it’s time.
I take another breath to steady my mind. Extricating myself slowly, I replace my fingers with my cock. Ivy cries out, then sobs. I grab a last handful of lubricant and push my thumb into Ivy’s ass. She gasps loudly, but it soon turns into that high-pitched moan I know so well. The musical precursor to her climax. I pound into Ivy, cock and thumb in concert, and she can’t handle it. I feel like I’m losing my mind. She screams and thrusts, and I pummel into her like I’ve never done in my life, deeper, deeper, deeper till I feel her clasping me with that magical fucking pussy that always feels so alive.
We detonate together. Clashing, colliding, bursting into each other. Traversing each other’s skin and organs. It’s all golden fireworks and fantasy, muscles and music. I empty myself into Ivy as she sobs with her own cock-clenching, body-shaking orgasm. I grab her and moan into her mouth. The orgasm lasts forever.
Jesus H Christ.
Or, rather, Ivy F Mickelson.