BBT Chapter 3: Sacred Fusion Of Colliding Souls
Iluzhah wasn’t just special to me—she was rare. A Cali queen with that unmistakable West Coast aura… but kissed with a soft Southern Belle charm that slipped out whenever she wanted to be sweet. She had this natural hospitality—sensual, warm, inviting—that made a man feel like he’d stumbled into heaven without reading the fine print.
And right now, heaven was lowering herself onto me.
She eased down with deliberate caution, the way you approach a turnstile—slow, angled, respectful of the mechanics. The head of my shaft slid against her entrance, nudging carefully until the resistance softened. Then—there it was. The moment of entry.
Her lips parted.
Her breath hitched.
Her eyes fluttered with approval.
“Oh my… yes…” she exhaled, her voice dipping into a tone that made the hair on my arms stand up.
Once my head gained access, the rest of me followed like it had been waiting for this invitation since birth. Her face said everything—she liked the fit, loved the fullness.
The world around us vanished. No sound. No thoughts. Just the warmth of her wrapped completely around me.
I lay perfectly still, savoring the moment like it was oxygen after drowning. She looked into my silent, stunned eyes and smiled in that psychic way she had.
“You don’t want to move, do you?” she whispered teasingly.
I shook my head slightly.
“Mmm-hmm,” she said, brushing her lips over mine. “I know. You want me to have my way with you.”
And she was right. I did.
She began to ride slowly, her hips rising and sinking with the rhythm of a woman who’d studied my body long before touching it. At 45 years old, I thought I had lived—but what she was doing to me felt like CPR for my entire existence. She was pumping something new into me… life, love, lust, all mixed together.
When she threw her head back, rolling her shoulders away from me, her breasts lifted and bounced freely. The sunlight kissed her skin, giving her that glow that made her look sculpted from honey and heat.
Every sound sharpened:
Her flesh meeting mine in rhythmic claps.
Her breasts softly smacking back into place after each bounce.
Her breathy moans that rose with each impact.
“God, King…” she groaned. “You’re filling me… sooo good…”
Her pace changed from bouncing to slow grinding, deep and deliberate. Each grind painted a new expression across her face—pleasure, need, satisfaction, hunger.
She grabbed her left breast, leaned forward slightly, and rolled her tongue over her nipple, making it harder, longer, perfect.
“You don’t know,” she said between moans, “how many times I imagined this… how many times I wanted your mouth… right… here.”
I remembered all the pictures she sent me over the years—her nipples always big, full, begging to be sucked. But seeing them in motion, in real time, in the warm sun… it was like watching a rare solar eclipse you only hear legends about.
I had to look away before I lost control too soon.
She noticed and laughed breathlessly.
“Oh no, baby… don’t run from it. Let me watch you try to survive me.”
Then she leaned forward, pressing her breasts onto my chest, locking her eyes to mine. Her hips shifted into a new position—one designed for power.
And she unleashed it.
She started fucking me harder, faster—every stroke a deep, determined thrust. Her eyes rolled back. Her nails dug into my shoulders. Her moans grew wild, unfiltered, primal.
“Ahh—King—fuck—yes—”
Sweat flew with each crash of her hips.
The bed shook.
Her voice rose.
Her body tightened.
She rode me like she was trying to merge our souls—and for 5 to 7 minutes, she didn’t slow once. Then—
“Oh—oh—OH—!”
She let out a long, broken moan, her body collapsing onto mine, trembling, slick, breathing hard. She giggled weakly.
“That… was the hardest orgasm I’ve ever had. Ever.”
I brushed her hair back and kissed her forehead.
“Well, love… I need to return the favor. Let me grind on you the way you just—”
She cut me off with a finger to my lips.
“Absolutely not,” she smirked. “Not until I clean up the beautiful mess I made.”
Before I could reply, she rolled off me with feline grace and climbed back on—this time in a 69 position, her caramel thighs framing my vision like art.
Her mouth found me immediately, warm and soft as she began licking her orgasm off my shaft, cleaning every drop with slow, sensual strokes of her tongue.
It was hard to enjoy the head she was giving because her pussy was right there in my face—inviting, glistening, pink as rose flesh.
“Damn…” I whispered, spreading her gently. “You’re beautiful down here.”
She hummed around my length, the vibration making my whole body twitch.
I leaned forward and ran my tongue along her pink folds. She gasped, tightening around my mouth.
“Oh—King—yes…”
Her clit swelled under my tongue, growing firm and eager. Her scent was so clean, so fresh—like morning fruit warmed by the sun.
I sucked gently, licked slowly, explored her until she began leaking a fresh, creamy release onto my tongue.
She lifted her head from me with a shaky laugh.
“Oh my God… I needed that.”
Then she turned and delivered a wicked, lust-filled smile.
“Now,” she said, crawling back down my body, “I’m ready for the gift you said you had for me.”
She straddled me with intention.
“Show me,” she whispered. “Give it to me.”
