Page 21 of Aura Awakened
I never gave much thought to the idea of little green (or green-brown, technically) men, but I know one thing for sure: there’s nothing little about him. Not one thing. At all. Anywhere.
It’s like he lives to serve; as soon as I told him what I wanted, he stood and immediately disrobed, revealing himself to me in all his glory.
He is built, more or less, like a human man, his thorns and unusual coloring notwithstanding. Though on a bigger scale. He’s solid and thick, like the tree he is, but there are no physical surprises waiting for me, as far as I can tell. Two legs, two arms, a massive, intimidating dick. He even has balls, right where they’re supposed to be, though I’m sure he calls them something like seed sacs. No tail or tentacles, which I’m grateful for. It’s weird enough to think that I’m about to get down with a sentient plant person from another planet; if he had two penises or something, I think I might freak out.
Before I can tailspin too far, his hands are on me, rough skin and gentle caresses. He has soldier’s hands, big and tough and capable, and he knows how to use them. Cupping my jaw to kiss me, trailing them down my back to squeeze my ass, gliding them over my breasts, teasing my nipples until they’re taut and straining. My eyes flutter closed as he removes my clothes slowly, as though unwrapping a sinful present.
“Mmm,” I moan. “God, you’re good with your hands. I wish you had more of them,” I joke.
“Your wish is my command,” he says.
I open my eyes at that—if he sprouts more hands, I’m out of here.
But no, it’s the vines again. Thick and lovely, a gorgeous electric green.
He wraps me up in them. One snakes around my wrists, pinning them above my head in helpless decadence. Two more slide across my breasts, teasing my achy nipples. A third wraps around my waist and slides down my back, brushing along my ass.
I close my eyes again and lose myself in the sensations. His vines are soft and supple, as warm as skin. As they stroke all my tender places, he slides down my body and parts my legs with his hands.
“Is this okay?” he asks.
“My god, yes. If you stop now, I will cut off your vines and strangle you with them.”
He chuckles, and then his mouth is on me, hot and wet and oh, so skilled.
I’ve heard the phrase “delicious torment,” but until this moment, I never truly understood it.
His fingers are inside me, thick and blunt, stretching me and filling me and making me want him even more. At the same time, his tongue is sliding against my clit, licking and sucking as I writhe against him. His vines hold me in place though, wrapped around my waist and thighs, keeping me from getting any relief from the intense stimulation. Smaller tendrils sprout from the vines at my chest, wrapping around my nipples like the softest clamps, keeping them aroused.
Every part of me is burning with pleasure. I’m moaning and squirming with it, overwhelmed by it, but Fillian is relentless, those talented fingers sliding in, out, everywhere. Over and over again.
He growls, hot air blowing over my swollen flesh, and then sucks down on my most sensitive spot—hard. I wasn’t expecting to come yet, but I erupt, bowing up as far as the vines will let me, the relentless waves of orgasm taking me under. His tongue never stops, working me without mercy, drawing out the climax until it’s the only thing in the world. Just endless waves of pleasure rippling through me. Every time they start to abate, he adjusts the angle and sets off more, until multiple orgasms meld into some sort of eternal rapture.
“Fillian,” I gasp, tears rolling down my cheeks. Nothing has ever felt this good in my life. He puts vibrators to shame.
He finally takes pity on me, coming up on his knees and grabbing the backs of my own to adjust my hips. With one smooth stroke, he’s buried inside me. It’s been a long time since I was intimate with a man, and there’s a slight burn as my body adapts to his huge invasion.
But then he’s moving, thrusting, his little vines still tweaking my nipples to distract from the pinch, and I’m lost in the rush of pleasure again. With a groan, he picks me up and somehow spins me around, positioning me face down, on my knees. I don’t even try to support myself, instead letting my chest sink to the bed. The rhythm of his thrusts has the sheet abrading my already-sensitive nipples, somehow making them even harder and sending shockwaves all the way through me.
Holy shit. Who knew sex could feel like this?
The new angle hits me deeper inside, his cock rubbing just right, over and over, and a series of mindless moans spill from my throat. Those thick fingers reach around and steadily press my clit, making it pulse against him. I gasp as the pressure builds again, low and scorching, almost threatening. My heart pounds, my nipples tighten, and my inner muscles grip hard, making him groan. Another climax is barreling down on me, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to withstand it. I’m still recovering from the last one.
He bends over me, draping across my back, his breath tickling the sensitive place on my ear. “You feel so good,” he whispers. “You’re squeezing me so tight. Milking me. You make me need to come.” Even as he says it, the wave of what he feels washes over me, dousing me in his own intense, wicked pleasure.
I gasp at the potency of it, wondering what I’ll be able to feel when he does. “Go for it,” I manage. “I want you to. I want to know how it feels.”
He laughs, the sound wicked. “Mmmmm, dirty girl. But no, not until you make me. Force it from me. I won’t let go until I feel you come so hard on my cock that I can’t help myself.”
I shudder, the need ramping up even higher, his pleasure feeding mine—and mine his—in an ongoing spiral. He feels it too, increasing the pace and intensity of his thrusts. I’m teetering on the edge; I’ve never felt so good in my life. I refuse to let go, though, because I don’t want this to ever, ever stop. I hover there, floating in perfect ecstasy, and then his fingers bear down, sliding against me in just the right way.
The dam breaks.
A sound rips out of my throat, half moan and half scream, all animal.
“Oh, god! Yessss, more,” I sob.
My internal muscles spasm against his cock as everything in me throbs, again and again and again. I’m drowning in it, coming endlessly and unstoppably. I hear, through a muffled haze, his own groan as I draw the climax out of him, and then I feel his own heat and spasms deep inside, his ecstasy flooding through me, sending another spiral of orgasm through me. I’m shaking, wrung out, and still the sensations won’t stop, shivery waves of pleasure too powerful to be called aftershocks.