Heavy

Nyla was exhausted—what else could she be? Her body was heavy with lust, but she knew that Andres was right. If they were together she would be his, and she was terrified of that. Not of him, but of getting close to someone and not knowing where it was going to go again…if they would die.

She looked into his eyes when he told her she would be his, and felt the heat in her eyes match his. It was so easy to swoon, and touch herself at that moment. Her fingers between her legs, and then up toward her breasts. Nyla could barely stand, she was so heavy with lust and she wanted Andres to touch her. Anywhere.

He let his finger dawdle between her breasts, but as much as Nyla leaned into his touch, she knew he was not going to give into her.

“I want you, but not like this,” he sighed. She looked down, as he pulled her to him. “When we are together, there should not be sadness or any other conflicting emotions. It should just be.”

Nyla pulled away from him, and looked up into his eyes. She knew he wanted her, but she would not push him.

Then.

As heavy with lust as her body was, she moved like syrup to his quarters. Nyla was not sure what she was going to do, but she was there. Through his outside window, she saw him. Large, naked and with his hands on himself, the way she wanted to be-hand, mouth, something! Watching him manipulate himself the way he was, with his eyes were focused on his thick shaft made her swallow hard. That was exactly what she wanted, as he wrung his shaft itself with one hand and caressed his head more softly with the other. The room vibrated with his intermittent moans. Nyla slipped her hand between her legs because she could not help it! What was she supposed to do when he was fucking himself and she could only look?

But when her moans got louder than his—Nyla opened her eyes to Andres walking toward her. His stride was as purposeful and intimidating as it was when he was fully dressed guarding her.

“I told you Nyla…” he started.

“I just want to watch, I promise. I could not stay away from you so I wandered over here. I have no agenda, I would have just as happily have watched you sleep.” Andres smiled, and took her hand. Nyla looked at him, as she gripped him the way he had gripped himself. He helped her move her hand the same way he had, which he had not needed to do. Touching him was instinctual, and she had memorized his movement in that short period of time. “You finish yourself off–go back and finish yourself off. I was not supposed to be here.”

“And what,” he smiled crookedly. “now I am only going to think about you.”

Nyla let her fingers linger between his breasts teasingly like he had done to her moments earlier.

“What were you thinking about before?”

Andres full out grinned, as he walked back to his bed, Nyla grinned at the view of him from the back, before he sprawled onto the bed like he was before. There was something a bit more lascivious about that sprawl though, as he looked at her and grabbed himself again. Hot and wet, Nyla did not dare touch herself.

This was his show.

He watched her as he started, and Nyla held his gaze even though it felt like she was taking away from his performance. But when he got into it, he was in his own world. He used the same movement masterfully with intermittent variation and mlike any great concerto he knew his winning notes. At his grand climax, Nyla watched him erupt and felt he deserved a thunderous applause.

But they were both silent, the only sound was their audible breathing and silent desire unfilled…

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