Atoms colliding

But.

Somewhere in a North Eastern corner, by flowing water and arcful bridges, opposite glass halls of music and Baltic art, two atoms spun on their axes and wended their way at high speed towards one another.  Stars and colours, sparks from friction, the collision of noisy mating driven by the primeval desires that manifest themselves when ape-like beings of skin and light attract.

Moment one:

She walked to the window, parted the curtains just enough to take in the view of car parks and offices, bending as she did so to push her voluptuous backside towards me.  No more invitation was required.  I walked up behind her and pushed her against the window.  She twisted around and we kissed; hot, wet, urgent. I felt her curves pressed against my chest, her arse in the palm of my hands. Momentarily I stopped and looked her in the eye: "You do know you're sexy don't you".  That was the spark that lit the fire that burnt the house down.

As clothes were ripped off and discarded, as juices were tasted and blood vessels engorged, as climaxes rose and lulled like waves building for the perfect storm, time moved relentlessly on outside 316.  But inside that room, inside her cunt, inside her mouth, we only existed in our timeless universe.  Two hours of lovemaking, fucking, sex (whatever you want to call it and it was all those and more) passed in minutes and these two atoms collided noisily in a furnace of their own making, hurtling at light speed towards the sunset.

Moment two:

Sleep was fitful. I was overheating. Bed clothes were thrown off. Beside me she lay in night white satin. Her desire was not sated, but mine, I thought, was solely a desire for sleep. But then she moved, she moved towards me. And I stirred.  Half asleep, but awake enough to know, I sensed her moving inexorably down.  I wanted it, but still I wanted sleep. She took me in her mouth, coaxing life from the weary soldier. I made no attempt to stop her. I allowed myself to give myself over to the pleasure being given. Sleep, who needed sleep, when a sexy Bardot was taking you deep inside her mouth and licking all the mounting pleasure between my legs. I could not move. I was incapable of response. I let her control me and take me, all of me. The groans I emitted grew more urgent and her determination for pleasure was evident. I offered no resistance. Relax, don't do it. Relax when you want to cum. And I wanted to cum. And she wanted me to cum.  As I reached the pinnacle and was launched over the edge, there was a momentary freeze frame as I soaked up all the pleasures of the act, all the minute molecules of le petit mort and she eagerly swallowed all of me. As the pleasure subsided she remained there, her lips and tongue gently and deftly cleaning all away. When we kissed, I held her and the pleasure of peaceful sated sleep stole me away.