0 comments/ 15035 views/ 1 favorites Nectar By: teacherman570 103 degrees. 1 a.m. No power. No AC. No fans. Just heat, endless heat. I knew why the power flickered and went off; everyone in the city had turned on the air, and the power stations couldn't handle it. It had happened once before, and I remember laying awake all night in a desperate attempt to sleep. Even reading or writing by candle light were to much to do that night. This time, Anna I spread the comforter out on the floor, to minimize body heat exchange, and hopefully grab that little cooler air closer to the floor. 100 degrees instead of 103. Before bed I decided to sleep nude, but Anna in her modesty still put on her summer pajamas. When she returned from the bathroom, I heard an exasperated sigh, and saw her pull off those pajamas, settle down next to me, nude, for the first time. As much sex as we had, she always put something on before going to sleep. She tried explaining it to me once, but it didn't make much sense. It was just one of those "things" we all have. Even speaking at that point was too much, so I didn't try to make conversation to pass the time. The idea of sex even seemed ridiculous. I tossed and turned, finally resting on my side facing her, and the light from the street lamp, allowed me to se parts of her. Her skin was covered in sweat, just as mine, but it glistened, sparkled somewhat. I watched her chest and stomach raise and lower with each breath, seeing small droplets fall from the apex of her breast to her stomach and over her side. I was mesmerized. I reached out to her, touching my finger to her arm, which was folded over her eyes, and I took a drop of sweat and brought it too my lips. In the heat and in exhaustion, I might have been a little delirious, but that droplet was like nectar, like ambrosia that the gods denied humans in their infinite wisdom. There was little taste to start, but the saltiness crept in, and I felt, I knew I needed more. Anna didn't respond to my first touch, and as my tongue traced a line from her shoulder to her breast, she still didn't move. I didn't care at that point, I could have laid awake all night, aroused as I was, as long as I could taste her. In that strange state I bathed her with my tongue, licking every inch of skin that I could find, like a cat bathing her kitten. I stayed away from her nipples, hoping not to wake her, but as I saw the sweat gathering on the tip, on the areola, I needed to make those mine as well. As the tip of my tongue moved from the edge of her areola, to the tip of her nipple, I felt her take a deep breath, and moan ever so softly. She could have been having a dream, for all I knew, but it was affecting her. I lost my wits, and did the once things that she couldn't resist, I took her nipple between my teeth, and pulled away, taking it with me. The moan was replaced by a gasp, and her hands grabbed my head. I looked up with my eyes and she was staring at me in a wild way; at first I didn't know anger from passion. As I let go of the nipple, the sight of her throwing her head back in obvious pleasure, was all the encouragement I need to satisfy my other need. I already had tasted all her stomach, so I parted her thighs, slicks as they were, and pressed my tongue immediately to her clit. My caution and patience wasn't needed anymore. I needed her sexual nectar; I needed all of it. I knew she flooded me every time I made that same move on her clit as I did with her nipple. So as my fingers spread her lips, my teeth embraced her clit and pulled. The inevitable flood soon covered by fingertips, and I quickly moved my lips and tongue to the source. My fingers replace my teeth, and I milked her, as thought I needed that honey to live. The heat had over come both of us, and I saw quickly Anna pulling at her nipples, her torso writhing, her head rolling, and her lips moving. The sounds escaping her were animalistic, primal, intoxicating to my ears. I didn't wait for her nectar to fall, I found it with my tongue and took it from her, pushing my tongue deep in side as to find the very point of origin. Instead it came from everywhere, covering my tongue, igniting my senses. I felt a spasm, then another, and the flow increases, and I knew she was at her peak. Her hands drove my head further into her, so that I could barely breathe as she screamed into the half-light. Then she released, relaxed her muscles, and tried to catch her breath. I relaxed too, a little, but still, delicately, I tried to catch every last drop. Finally she pushed me away, weakly, shaking her head to say no more, too much. I reluctantly pulled away, slowly coming out of my own strange delirium. I rested next to her, lightly touching the skin I was taken just moments before. Anna looked at me with tired eyes, but there was a glint that wasn't there before, a sated glint, and she gave me a weak smile. Those two things meant more than any orgasm she could have given me that night. I kissed her, on the lips for the first time that night, and I hoped that she could understand why those tasted drove me to pleasure her as I did. As I drew away, she only gave another silent thank you with her eyes. She reached, slowly and clumsily down my stomach, hoping perhaps to please me in a similar way, but I took her hand, held it, and kissed her forehead. I didn't need that pleasure, I had a different kind that night, and it was just as sweet. I laid down next to her, still holding her hand, and whispered goodnight. She let out a sigh, this time, not out of exasperation, but something else, release perhaps, or contentment. In moments I could hear the tell-tales sings of sleep. I was happy, sated for the moment as well, and in minutes, I found sleep as well. Nectar Before Pleasure As the sun sets the ocean breeze becomes cooler with the coming night. And just in time as well now that I was at the entrance of my apartment. Before I could even step in to the building the faint scent of my favorite drink tickled my nostrils. The warm smell of coffee seemed to drive me, instinctively, to move faster. The fragrance grew stronger as I entered my building, as did my temptation and appetite for coffee. As I was walking to my apartment room the scent became stronger in the same direction. But in the same direction one of the doors lay wide open with the light shining through the doorway. I was already assuming that the shining doorway was entry to a heaven of coffee. Turns out it was a scene from hell; paper-towels laid over a spillage of my hopes and dreams encroaching onto the hall-way. Beyond the spill was a flowery purgatory on her hands and knees. An interesting sight this was while Lantana, Tana for short, embarrassingly looked up at me as I stood by the door. I chuckled for a bit, then decided to help out my short and sweet before she gets coffee stains on her sweat pants or athletic top. As my neighbor, who also happens to be my admirer, handed me paper-towels I started on the wiping up the mess from my end. We were done after a few moments of cleaning and drying her floor despite my day. But it was worth the extra effort as I was offered a cup with my choice of flavor. It may not seem much to choose from, but for coffee it was difficult due to the variety. Setting aside the adventurous flavor of chocolate mocha, or the artistic taste of hazelnut latte, I opted for the dreamy essence of white mocha. In a whirl of a twin-tailed blur, Tana spun around and started off on making another pot, only to reveal a little bit of "truth." While she worked the pot my eyes subtly brimmed with energy at the sight of her sweats sliding down and revealing a a fine glory. I've come to conclude that she is only wearing two pieces of clothing and nothing else. I sat down at her kitchen counter and waited while the air was filled with the loving aroma. But the day still had me exhausted and I needed to do something to keep from falling asleep. It was at that point that Tana left the machine to do its wonders and asked me if I was tired. Obviously not and in return I requested her help, a trade for helping her clean up. She graciously agreed to grant my mindless and tired request considering she is my admirer. My request: Keep me awake and occupied until the coffee is ready to be served. A sly grin stretches across her face, no more a twinkle in her eye instead being a shine instead. Tana walks around and props her self on the counter next to me. In a seductive tone she stated that only if I meet her lips with mine will she let me "sexually occupy" inside her instead. Somehow at this point she had me positioned right between her legs, my waist cradled between her upper-thighs. Thoughts ran though my mind with mischief and surprise in tow. As Tana leaned in to kiss me I snapped back to reality and gently pushed her away from me. The look on her face bore confusion with a hint of disappointment, but quickly transformed into sudden surprise. After distancing her pretty face from mine my hands gnarled at her sweatpants and pulled them off, letting them slide down to the floor. I remained correct as I there was nothing else but the sweatpants on the kitchen floor while the athletic bra remained on her chest. It seems ironic that faint and bitter scent would invoke a sweet sensation in the back of my head. Not that it matters anymore since Tana is now on her back, awaiting the unknown. But she did want a kiss first and that is what I will grant her, just not where she first expected it to be. I descended with a bit of force, lips clashing with petals, tongue hungrily wriggling around to "occupy" the lunch-box. She'll probably ache later after doing this, but I also spread her legs even further apart while taking turns drilling with my tongue and suckling her clit. I was in a full blown make-out session with the the twin-tailed's petals. Thanks to Tana's help I was wide awake and she was barely conscious. She struggled against her flowery reactions to my butterfly actions by trying to push my head away to a manageable distance. Not too close to suck up all her nectar, not too far to pollinate her, or something to that manner. Now that I had the message I took it easy and slowed down my oral activity. Instead of drilling through I went to explore around the edges of her labia, licking the front and back of these petals as if I was an architect studying their structure. No suckling for the time being, opting instead to kiss her clit while giving it a slow stroke of my tongue. The change in pace suited Tana and she was able to regain some composure of herself. While my hands still kept her legs separated I felt her move as if she was sitting up, but not to the point of disturbing my work. When she placed her hand on mine it seemed like I could feel every sense of what she was feeling. The scent of sexual hormones stemming from Tana's warm entrance and prespiring skin. The exciting taste of her over-flowing nectar when she orgasmed, and the feeling of it running down inside my throat and outside my neck. The harmony of pleasure her voice makes in conjunction to the wild sounds my my mouth made as I kissed and licked. And every time I moved my tongue upwards my eyes would catch hers looking back at me. All these feelings rolled into a single moment of our intertwining life-times felt like an eternity. I carried on with having my snack, enduring four or five of her orgasms until I became tired again. I slowly broke away from her petals and wiped myself with near-by napkins. Tana seemed exhausted herself as she found relief in removing her bra so she could breathe easier. The end result - Tana was now fully naked, myself fully clothed, both of us equally drained, but filled with satisfaction. Speaking of filled satisfaction Tana noticed that the pot was filled since 20 minutes ago. A separate rejoice as she prepped two cups of my forgotten, but long-awaited reward. Afterwards we lay cuddled on her couch, herself in a blanket, chatting about our day, watching a movie, and having our drinks. As I drank my coffee it washed away Tana's nectar, its warmth soothing my throat, a pleasurable sensation in its own right. But there could be no greater pleasure than being with Tana as we fell asleep into the dark hours of the morning.