Pyroclasm

High on a cold, stark, mountain top, lies a snow beaten research centre. It is so remote, that it can only be reached by helicopter. Inside instruments whirr and click, dials spin and needles dance. Its only two inhabitants  a professor and a research assistant grab hold of each other and kiss deeply and powerfully. They have both wanted this for a very long time and their long suppressed passions rise up in them. They tear at each others clothes madly almost devouring each other with their wet, hungry mouths.

Behind them, needles scratch zig-zag patterns across scrolling graph paper and around cylinders, but right now their work does not matter to them, they are consumed with each other.

Deep beneath them, miles below ground, a magma flow courses through the earth.

He lifts her onto a bench and, jerking her skirt upwards, he pushes against her, feeling the heat between her legs with his hardness, ripping open her top and kissing her neck greedily, as though he had only moments to live. With the desire of a starving tiger, she tugs at his belt and trousers until she has him freed. He shoves her further back and she pushes instruments and beakers, and piles of documents, roughly out of the way. Paper flutters around them and glass shatters on the floor, chemicals hiss and steam. She raises her hips to help him, as he lifts her skirt and pulls down her already dripping panties.

Behind them needles twitch in their dials, climbing jerkily upwards towards red. Screens flash with data.

Below them the volcano is becoming aroused. Little jets of steam gasp and sigh from its surface. and boiling lava gushes through its veins.

A pen on a graph starts drawing faster, more frantic zigs and zags.

He pushes her over onto her back, sending more paper flying and a computer monitor crashing to floor and he bends forward and kisses her glistening pussy. “Oh yes!” she she half moans, half whispers; it has been so long since a man had done that to her. He continues; little kisses at first and tiny little tickles with the tip of his tongue but he is so crazy for her, and so wants to pleasure her that he is soon flicking hard and fast at her clit, responding to her every gasp and sigh, his engorged cock brushing against the cold hard steel of the bench, sending shivers up and down its length. He revels in her, filling his mouth with her erotic tastes and his nostrils with her inflaming odours. ‘Now!’ she shudders, “Fuck me now! Before I come! Fuck me!”

Sulphur spits from the volcano’s sweating flank and huge clouds burst in gasps from its gaping mouth. the ground trembles and a flock of birds take to the air.

Climbing onto the bench, he kisses her belly and breasts as he rises up her, until they are face to face, eye to eye, and his shaft hovering over her pussy, tickling it. She tastes herself as they kiss and she guides him into her. He fucks her fiercely and deeply, pulling back each time until he is almost out of her before plunging back into her with a strength that shakes her whole body, filling her, taking her breath away and drawing light screams of joy from her. The bench rocks under their frenzy and she digs her fingers deep into his buttocks pulling him as hard into her as she can.

The Magma rises faster now, deep below them, flowing thickly through the body of the mountain. Until it can take no more. Until it must find its release.

He rears up as he comes and bursts into her and she clings to him, their bodies in unison with his eruption, their orgasms shooting through every muscle in their bodies, their bodies pulsating in time with each other’s.

The molten lava rises and bursts from the volcano, shooting high into the air, a thick gushing hot liquid. It splatters the landscape around, in steaming great pools and it flows in great rivulets down the mountain’s sides. Over and over the volcano erupts in hot sticky squirts, covering everything before it, seemingly never ending.

After a long while, the professor gets up off the bench and looks around her, something is not quite right. She looks at a screen. “Fuck!”, she screams. her assistant looks at her,
“What?”, he asks. She looks back at the screen and his eyes follow hers “Oh holy fuck!” he murmurs. They both turn round, to the window and are just in time to see the pyroclastic flow before it engulfs them and turns them into dust.

12.10.15 | Categories: erotica, flash fiction, life is beautiful, love, romance, sex | Tags: Death, eruptions, life, love, orgasm, sex, volcanoes | 44 Comments