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no winter lasts forever…


You watch me lightly circle and press the tip of my clit. I spread my legs wider and linger slowly, tracing the length of my smooth lips. I smirk, watching how you change—how your desire flushes through your body and floods your cheeks.

“This is where I want your mouth.”

Your throat is suddenly dry. You look deeply into my big brown eyes. I am startled by the heat that surges through me at that look.

“Fuck, you are gorgeous,” I whisper.

You hold my hips and pull me closer to the edge of the bed. On your knees, you look up at me again from between my legs. You are so serious. I’m not sure how to read your expression. Your jaw clenches, almost quivers.

I don’t know this but you can smell my cunt. Generally speaking, I have no idea how hard my body’s smells make you. I am oblivious to the throbbing state of your cock right now and I have no idea how impossible it is for you not to just fuck me into a bucking, moaning, thrashing pleasure-mess.

My cunt lips are moist inside; my sweet pussy hasn’t ramped up to its usual “fuck me now” wet-smell, not yet. That’s what this time is for… to prepare me for an unrestrained squirt-cum.

You look at my folds, memorizing them anew. I move a bit closer because I am aching to feel you on me but you return me to my spot so that your view of my pussy is exactly where you need it.

“Wait,” you whisper gently and stroke the soft inside of my thigh with the tip of your nose and closed lips.

“I don’t want to,” I moan back.


You slowly kiss, then suckle my thigh—right on my secret moany spots. My hips lift off the bed when you find the most sensitive of these spots and you put your hands under my ass and along my back. You pull me into your mouth then. My throat catches and I lose my breath feeling your tongue flatten along my warm lips. You feel my moan vibrate on your tongue and without meaning to, your own moan vibrates deeply in return.

We play this vibration-echo game for what feels like not-long-enough. Your mouth is magic, I feel incredible, and even as I get so so so fucking wet, I fear you must be getting bored; I am torn between receiving and giving. I feel selfish wanting you here like this. I feel greedy for wanting you to want me like this forever. I could watch you eating me out forever. I know I’ll never tire of feeling your mouth on me.

My uncertainty reigns; I try to lift your head.

“Are you ok? Do you want to do something else?”

You burrow your face into my folds in reply. Your gaze on me is intense, feral… your moans are growls of need and something beyond passion. Your grip on me intensifies; you hold me against you in a vise grip of certainty. You have no use for words, no use for my concern; you are exactly where you want to be. We are connected in the deepest kind of giving-and-receiving. We are one.

My hips are gyrating on your now glistening face. We are trying to keep up with one another, each spurring the other on—you, with with muffled cries of encouragement and me, writhing and quivering with reaching, grasping hands.

I am exactly where you want me. I am exactly where I want to be.

When your finger finds the trigger point of my g-spot, my body seizes and stretches into an incredibly supple arch. You are inspired; you suck harder, disregarding any former fear that your latch on me might be too hard. My hands are splayed on the bed, gripping the duvet, head tilted back, my chest heaves as my pleasure-cries begin to release with abandon.

You’ve made me wild. My pleasure is beyond anything I’ve allowed myself to feel before. I look at you, eyes wide in amazement. Your eyes are closed as you dig deeper into this rhythm we’re in… even more lost in it than I am. We’re both drenched in sweat. I can smell us. I want to cum so badly.

I gasp aloud as I feel that tingle roiling in from the back of my hips. I try to talk, I vainly try to lift your mouth up to protect your beautiful face from the cum-torrent peaking inside me.

“I’m so clo…”

You rumble in reply and hunker down. The force of your conviction makes me cry out as I ride the first swell of my pulsating mini-cum. Your fingers pump faster, the friction wreaking the delicious kind of havoc you’d imagined when I first spread my legs for you. I hold the back of your hand and wrist just. so. I need you exactly here.

“Cum, cum, cum, cum…” your lips mumble into my clit.

I want to scream your name. I want to beg you to go harder, deeper, faster. It takes all my energy just to keep from hyperventilating from this joy I’m finding with you. I could ride this wave for hours but I see the strain in your temples and I know we don’t have long.

Just then your finger ignites like a match on my g-spot and I gush. I try to warn you but my body is overcome. I’m engulfed in a seismic surge of cum. I squirt all over your face, soaking your fingers and hand, down the front of your shirt and onto your jeans. I twist and hold on to the corner of the bed and let myself empty all over you. You stand as I convulse unabashedly before you. I look over my shoulder when I hear your pants fall to the ground and I see you mounting me. All I see before you plunge into me is the shiny, red, taut head of your impossibly hard cock.

You straddle me, one leg on either side of your body and hike my hips up just enough to slam into me. I haven’t witnessed this kind of naked need for me before. I lift my hips and push back into you, my hands supporting us against the bed.


I command with each pounding. Your jaw is set. You watch my tits sway and when you grab my right breast with your whole hand, your squeeze sparks along my nerves straight to my clit. You are mesmerized by my body, watching how your cock slides in and out of me, my slick cunt gripping every inch of your beautiful hard.

You lick your finger and swipe some wet from between my legs before you slip your finger deep in my ass. I gasp again and you cry out as you rub your glorious self from inside me. Our pleasure is matched, our tempo becomes a new fuck-fest of pounding bliss driven by your confidence. I can feel my second cum (or is that my third?!) building deep from my most secret and deprived depths.

“Fuck! Cum inside—OH, FUCK—cum, cum in me!”

You look in my eyes. When I see the certainty there, I lose it… your confidence is the ultimate finisher for me. The sharp  not-pain of my cum overwhelms me as your face mirrors mine: our “O’s” ricochet in rhythm off my ass as you pound this shared cum out of both of us.

The languorous sigh you make in your next faltering breath brings me to tears and imprints on me forever—that’s how sexy and complete you are in that moment.

I straighten my legs to lie face down on the bed and you rest on top of me. I pulse my pussy walls, playing with your still-hard cock inside me until it slides out, spent. I feel your cum’s heat slowly seep through the crease of my groin. I don’t even want to know what kind of epic mess awaits us… I just want to stay here, feeling your weighted breath slow.

When your wits recover, you tenderly kiss my temple and ear. I smile and turn to face you. We kiss in slow motion. I feel our heartbeats pulse through our lips. I have never felt more naked. I have never felt more free.

forty two (or, ice cream and candles), part 2…

“I want to make a mess for you.”

Another long, deep, ravenous kiss inside the doorway.

“Would you like that?”

You blush in reply and push me up against the door, just pressing your body’s full length and width against mine. Of course I moan. Fuck, just feeling your weight against me makes me moan so deeply, I feel my clit vibrate that sends a shiver down to another moan.

“I’m going to cum for you, ok?”

You don’t reply but you don’t have to; your smile gives you away—it’s that secret smile you make when you’re at a loss for words. When the power of what you desire from me overwhelms you. I mean, there are only so many yes’ one man can say.

The dark night has locked us away in a breathy silence.

“Do you trust me?”

You nod. I kiss your neck gently as I tie the soft blindfold over your eyes. It’s quiet for a time. You can hear me moving about the room. I want all your senses attuned to me. Soon, we will be moving as one.

I return to you and begin to undress myself slowly. I want you to hear my nakedness unfold. I want you to picture me. Oh, fuck, how I want you to anticipate me. My smells bloom beneath you. I contemplate leaving my panties on, just so you can take them off me… but now, I don’t want anything between us. As they softly drop to the ground, you catch a whiff of my holy wet. Your cock jumps with recognition.

I then slowly remove your clothes. You are surprisingly unselfconscious; you are focused on the air between our bare skin. You can feel brief moments of shared heat. You gasp anytime we almost touch. When you are finally naked, I pause. You know I am looking at you, taking my time, drinking in every inch of your tall and wonderful body. I sigh. I am so turned on, standing naked like this with you.

“Oh my fuck, you are so beautiful.”

I don’t know who moans first and really, it doesn’t matter. What matters, is tasting you. I gently trace your lips with my tongue and you just barely feel the rounded edges of my air-cooled nipples as they lightly slide along your hot chest. You clench your fists; you’re not ready to fully touch or hold me. We both want to extend this delicious dance of Almost.

You feel me circling you. Each pause is different, there is no recognizable tempo to my greed and curiosity; I just want you in your entirety and I plan to take my time. I begin inhaling you and breathing into you. Then, lightly tracing you with lips, fingertips, nipples, hips, thighs, back and various other body bits… until finally, my palms and fingers hold, caress, press, grip, squeeze, and pull. In tandem, my mouth kisses, suckles, and then sucks. Your breath pitches into moans of basest pleasure.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Your moan is guttural. You nearly rip off the blindfold and fuck me right there on the carpet. You know you could, too. Without even looking, you know that my clit is thick and swollen, that my pussy folds are hot with shining juice and totally fucking swollen with impatience.

“Because I don’t want to stop.”
“But I do want you harder.”
“Mmhm, that, too.”

I am everywhere now, even between your legs—both your hanging balls slip into my mouth, your ass crack is slick from my tongue, and your toes and ankles tingle from my sucks and kisses. I swoop in at random times just to lick the pre-cum off your hot, shiny-with-taut, pulsing cock.

But still you don’t touch me. If you try, I gingerly step away. Your moans become a mixture of joy and frustration… of ache and longing… of need, of need, of—

“Do you want me?”

Your knees buckle a bit. You hear unmistakable desire in the huskiness of my voice. Your mouth waters with your own lust.

“Take it off—the blindfold. Please… I can’t wait any longer…”

There I am on the sofa in front of you, on my tummy, grinding my clit down on my fist, just the way I like it. Exposed. Vulnerable. I have no idea how sexy I am to you in this moment. Looking at you with my brows furrowed, my jaw slackens as each exhale gently rolls into cascading moans. You take a step towards me—


You stop in your tracks. My  moan weaves through my words,

“You… your… cock. Show. me.”

It is all the permission you need. One hand cups your balls and presses down on that secret pleasure spot—the same one my mouth sucked on a short time ago—while your other hand grips and glides up and down your beautifulfuckingthrobbing shaft. I moan, adjust myself so I can pick up speed.

“Tell me,”

I beg,

“Tell me how much you want me.”

You moan your gorgeous moan.

“Show me—your cock—gasp—please—OH—(moan)—”

You are heating up.


We both pick up speed.

“Show me how much you want to fuck me—”

Your eyes dart between my face and the intoxicating rhythm of my gyrating hips.  My arm muscles flex as I push up against my clit, trying to find my grip despite the slick—the slick you can hear now, louder and louder in echo to our moans. When I ask you again, more urgently,

“Tell me.”

Your voice catches at first; all you can do is nod, and then,


I beg,


I start to buck up and down on the couch. The springs give my eagerness away. You cry out.


Again, I beg,

“Yes? YES?!!”

When you reply,

“OHhhh, FUCK, YES,”

I release myself and turn to face you—ass up—my cunt a wet invitation… a smooth, thick, luscious backdoor offer.


With great force, you grab my hips, and plunge your meaty pole inside me. My arms outstretched, anchoring myself against the back of the sofa and cushions. I’m not tempering my cries and moans of pleasure in the least.


You love how I push back into you, arching my back, doing anything I can to get you as deep as fucking possible into me.

I shift my weight to my left leg and turning slightly towards you, we position my right leg up over your shoulder. You plunge even deeper than before. Your top hand grabs my tit and squeezes. My nipples are at your mercy.

This makes me wild. You make me wild. I meet your thrusts with my own. My right hand reaches for your face but my body is wracked with such force and pleasure, all it can do is sway with our fuck-rhythm. My other arm continues to brace us against the back of the sofa.

This angle is perfect: you can watch yourself slide in and out, my pussy lips slurp on your thick rod. You can watch my tits swing and enjoy how my cheeks flush each time you dive into me. I’m also watching you take us—all this—in; I feel amazing being with you like this. Watching your pleasure is almost as good as the pleasure you’re giving me. Your jaw tenses with effort and I am overcome with a need to stroke it, to hold your beautiful face.

“Come, make me cum.”

I lie down on the couch and try to pull you on top of me but instead, you stay at the end of the couch, push my legs up by my ears. As you do, you kiss the length of my right leg, pausing to suckle my toes. I suddenly feel shy by this but I give in to your delight, I give into your courage to be with me like this, I give into what pleases you: you pause with a little gasp as my left foot traces your bobbing cock, up your chest, and I offer my other foot. You look me in the eye as you lick and suck on both my feet and toes. Your eyes darken the way they do when you finally give into the wild abandon of your needs. Seeing you like this inspires a deep moan from the back of my throat.

You are already driving me more than a little crazy. I squeeze my tits as I anchor my legs against you. You spread me wider as you dive down with your mouth. I gasp, unable to breathe; your warm mouth feels so fucking good. Your hands begin to work in unison with your lips, tongue, and teeth; I can’t tell what’s dipping, what’s pressing, probing, pinching, circling or sucking… my ass, cunt, and clit are your playground. My hands pull your hair, tug at your ears—they guide you as much as follow; we linger where we must. You prefer the spots that make me cry out—the spots where I instinctively grind my cunt into your sweet face.

You come up for air and I lift my hips with you; I don’t want you to stop. But you want to see the effect of your handiwork. We are both drenched in sweat. My big brown eyes are shiny and wide. My mouth is open, panting. I am Moaning. I am fucking moaning your name over and over; you have become my prayer. You smile, proud.

“You like that, hey?”

I barely nod before you slide up along my body, placing my long, lean legs on either side of your head. You kiss me like lovers who love… this alchemy of skin.

I am folded under you. Your weight stokes my fire and I hold your face, finally. I kiss you again. I look you in the eyes as the weight of each thrust and pound drives your point home:

“Cum, Lola! Cum for me.”

I can feel it like a distant wave, I can feel it cresting in a kind of mini-orgasm and I know if you stop, I’ll never find it again, and I’ll never cum like I know I can when I’m with you.

“Don’t stop. PLEASE. Don’t.stop.”

You’re surprised.

“Are you—?”

But I need you to keep pace with me,

“Yesyesooohyesdon’tstopdon’t stop!”

Our tempo changes, you shift us into a higher gear. Sweat runs down your back.

“Cum! Cum!”

I feel the surge deep between my legs, like electricity through my back. You feel so fucking amazing. All I can do is repeat over and over to the beat of each pump,

“I’m so close, I’m so close, I’m so close—”

You’re just as inspired. Our passion has liberated you.

“For me! Cum for me!”

We are one breath, foreheads together, mouths mirroring the other. Moans cascade, tumbling out between gasps and cries that crest and crescendo. I can’t help it. I can’t stop it. I don’t want to.

“So close, so close, soo—”

You drill me so deep you can feel my stomach. I love. every. moment. You whip me into frenzy. My eyes widen, my jaw falls open, my fingers clench the cushions beneath us. You can see how close to the precipice I am.

“That’s it! CUM! Cum for me!”

Suddenly, I can feel it—I am going to spill and spill and spill all over you, all over this couch. The force of my cum begins to peak and you see my flicker of doubt. I know it’s going to be huge—

“Make a mess! I want it, all of it. I want you to—”

I want you to cum with me but I am dumb; there are no words left for me, only wave upon wave of surging, arching, squirting orgasm.

“YES! Give it to me, all over me, please, Lola, YES!”

I can’t hold it back, even if I wanted to. Our bodies convulse. I gush in all directions; my squirt is a tsunami of release. We cry out as your cum fills me and spills out along the crease of my thighs, down the crack of my ass.

We hold tightly to one another even as we’re lost in the other’s arms. We are a glorious mess. I can feel and smell you everywhere and in this moment, I can think of nothing better.

Slowly, we catch our breath. I unfold my legs. You pull me on top of you as we still the racing of our hearts. My head rests on your broad chest and I listen to your heartbeats slow to a steady pulse. As you trace a mindless pattern on my back, you quietly say,


I smile, lifting my head in response. My breath catches a little when I look at you. You are fully here with me, radiant and whole. Your freedom is infinite. My eyes tear up. I am smitten by the power of your masculine beauty. You move a strand of hair off my sweaty, rosy cheek. Tenderly, you place it behind my ear.

“You are so beautiful, Lola… Just, wow.”

This time, it’s me that blushes.


I straddle you, naked. I am far from perfect but what I am is soft. Unbelievably smooth. You’re reminded of this as you feel my inner thighs rest on the outside of yours. As your hand caresses the side of my hip and traces down, gentle in its casual admiration. You stretch yourself out for me and my hands trace your chest, your shoulders, and lift your hands to my mouth. I kiss you. First your fingers. I place your hands on my breasts, under so you can feel their giddy roundness, the subtle weight that small, perky breasts offer. I kiss your hands that give me such pleasure, luxuriating in your length.

My other hand gently circles again and again around your head – the glistening pre-cum giving me all the lube I need. I take my time with you. I take my time discovering you anew. Mewing my approval so much so that you wish I had tied you up so that you could truly give yourself over to me. My appetite for you is boundless. We both want you to watch me do exactly what I want with your body. Your cock bobs its magical dance to the sound of my voice, transforming my radiant wish into… something more.

“I want you to moan.”

And before the surprise in your exhale has time to rest, my cunt is there, paused just above your face. You think you are the only one who feels helplessness; you don’t realize how distracting your mouth is for me every moment of every day we are apart. My head falls back, anticipating you, us. I can feel your hot breath between my legs.

And you feel it too – you smell my juice – just reading that.
Don’t you?
The moan that just slipped from the back of your throat?
It’s mine.
I claim it for my clit.

I rest my weight on your face. Finally. My back arches in response—in delicate, luxurious echo.

Again, the moan that just slipped out, it is mine—along with all the ones that follow. I bite my lip, I want you so fucking bad. Right now, your claim is the fuck juice between my legs and the tremble in my hands (as I type and) as I hold your head and lift your beautiful face even deeper inside me. My sigh is every pleasure for you unveiled.

There is nothing hidden right now, especially not with the weight I give your mouth as you split me wide and unblushingly suckle, slurp, and seize my folds between your tongue and lips and teeth (so fucking clever, you). And I can’t help myself; I can’t stop grinding every millimeter of my sopping, silken pussy onto your mouth.

My ragged breaths inspire you. I’m riding your face now, sliding up and down, sideways and around, everything you’re doing is so fucking perfect. From between the slick of our sounds, your voice is a growl:

“I want you to moan.”

And the moan that just vibrated out of me now, is yours. Please, claim it for your cum. You must. For the throbbing, bobbing cock begging for release as you read these words and for my swollen, velvet pussy lips that threaten to squirt all over you.

fearless, breathless…

I become the tremor that you ignite. “Do you like that?” your hungry voice whispers in my ear. Your hands taut between my legs, two fingers knuckled deep inside my softest wet. I tremble and you bend your fingers, pressing them into my g-spot. I buck and leave my hips high off the bed. “That’s it. Feel my fingers so fucking deep, fucking you.” You rub harder inside me. I bite your shoulder and moan as my hips drop and swivel and rotate around your thick wrist. “Yeah? You want more?”

My answer is the sopping slap of my wet. “Fuck, you’re wet, so fucking wet!” I push and press harder into your hand, my left hand gripping the headboard above my head as I cry out with a throaty moan of wild pleasure. You bite your lip and set your jaw as you heed my call.

I want this fuck so badly. I want to feel you in every hole I have. I want to cum a thousand times in your hands, on your cock, in your mouth, on your face… everywhere. Fuck.

Our foreheads together, I reach between us to fire up my clit. I gasp. “Oh… play with yourself. I love that. Fuuuck! Yeah, play with yourself for me!” My moans become animal sounds as my fingers douse themselves in my cunt-juice. Your cock bobs against my leg in rhythm to our hot moans. When I grip your shaft, I cry out loud; it is about to burst, it is so full – so fucking gorgeous. My grip is confident as I spin and jerk and tug and squeeze. My nipples harden from hearing your harsh breath, your groaning, and mumblings that sound slightly like begging.

“Cum for me…” I whisper this time into your mouth as it gasps for air. Your eyelashes flutter as my coaxing registers. “Cum. Make a delicious cum for me. Me. Me. Me.” You look down at me and I smile with bright eyes.

Suddenly, you lift me and flip me around like I weigh nothing and now, you’re beneath me. Your strength surprises me. Your urgency heats me like never before. I don’t slip you in, though.

“Ride,” you say.

I slide along your utterly fuckable cock, my wet hand beneath, my swollen pussy on top, sandwiching you between.

“Cum for me,” I say louder.

I press down and your head lifts off the pillow, jaw slack; I think you might just cum.

“You first,” you barely gasp. “You, please… let me watch you first.”

I slide along your shaft faster and without missing a beat, you are inside me. I tip my hips back so that I have the traction to push you as deep inside as you can be. And then I buck against you, hard. Our skin slaps and my thigh muscles tense. You grab my tits and squeeze. My head falls back and I almost tumble off, it feels so incredible to have you this way.

My mess of hair falls around my face. Our eyes meet and I watch you as I ride you, between the veil of my hair and the sheen of our exertion. My hips flick against yofearless, breathlessu. I worry I might be hurting you but you’re holding me down now at my hips. My pumping is low against your body, my clit burrows into your stomach and again, I reach down and play its swan song for you.

“Ohhh, yeah… your clit. Play for me. Play! Cum! I want you to cum!” We are both nearly in tears, it feels so fucking good. My cries shift their pitch and I need to brace myself against your chest. My legs are tired but I can feel the crest of the pain that is pleasure, rising like a tsunami in me.

You see it in my eyes, too.

“YES! Come on, fucking cum. Lola, I WANT YOU TO CUM. Pleeeeeaase…!”

And then the lights change colour from inside me; my body tenses and I flood the bed. I am the biggest mess spilling, spilling, soaking you and the bed. You watch my juice squirt out from between our bodies, and cum with a matching roar as my hot cum (and more) gushes down around your hips and over your balls. I grip your chest as you fill me and as I empty simultaneously.

Our chests heave and I fall against you… slick and reeking of hot, hard sex.

“I’m afraid I made a mess.”
“I think maybe you did,” you say with a smile. “I love it, fuck, I love it. It’s so hot. You’re so fucking beautiful when you cum like that,” you whisper.

I kiss you. I kiss you. So sweet, my sweet, I kiss you.

forty one (or, of a certain age), part 1…

Tonite, I dress for you. I consider your eyes on me, what outline might please you. I don’t wear a bra. I want to feel the soft fabric brush my nipples. I want the sides of my cupable breasts to imprint. I want your cock to leap with delight seeing my silhouette moving amidst the crowd.

Like it has before… and will again.

I only wear these lacy, delicate panties so that you can peel them off me – with your fingers and eventually, your mouth. Mmmm, your mouth. I wonder if anyone else will be able to smell my wet that is already aching for you? I rub lotion into my tawny skin, down and all around the length of my long, lean limbs and strong legs; who knows where you will kiss and nibble on me? Everywhere, I hope.

And suckle, too – pausing to dance your tongue in the crooks and nooks of my arms and knees — on my achilles — then sucking my velvet skin into your warm mouth. I want you to hear my gasp as I cry out, buck and barely prevent myself from squirting the truth of these secret niches of my bod, hiding in plain view.

I consider putting my hair up so that you can see my nape and the soft part below and just behind my ears… where moans spill out of me and my knees buckle when you kiss me there. Instead, I dab a trace of perfume there, leaving my dark mane loose and wild, draping down my back and over my shoulders.

I want to make it easy for you to picture the future: my naked body with yours, my head falling back, turning to look at you, your grip enfolded in the bouquet of my sex-soaked tendrils as my smiling mouth drops open, groaning my pleasure and praise-moaning your name.

Until then, we will mingle. And sit or stand just a little bit too close but not so close that anyone would really notice. I want to feel the heat off your body, feel it sinking into mine, through our clothes and modesty and public joviality. I want to feel your eyes on me as I walk away, towards, around you. I want to know that you are picturing all my skin underneath, feeling the energy of my passion and the delicious foreplay that is this waiting game. I want to look up from another conversation and see you already seeing me; my smile an echo to your wink. To this busy room, we seem miles apart but  like spidersilk, our need is weaving us closer, taut with longing to be inside the other.

Eventually, the gravitational pull of our… affinity… overwhelms decency and pulls us out onto the street. We slowly walk arm in arm, talking about the party and people and places and things until there, in the  shadow of stars and deepening night, you kiss me. Finally. You feel my body once more where you most need it: against you. Our lips trace back and forth and slowly, we venture deeper into the other’s mouth, taking pleasure in the evening’s palate. I can feel how each kiss  invisibly swirls down to charm my soft-as-plush clit and swelling lips. As in echo, the urgency of our kisses increase until our breath, audible, also steams.

I pull away. I don’t look at you right away, I just trace your neck, chest, and stomach. You watch me, as you do— as I know you like to. I pull on your waistband. I slip my finger in just far enough for you to feel the contrast of your ravenous heat and the cool night, just deep enough to feel my finger tip graze and circle the edge of your gloriously hard cock. We exhale. Deeply, looking into one another. We can’t help but smile.

Fuck, I love your smile, especially when it’s at me and I am in your arms. I suddenly want to tell you that your every touch has been a bookmark to favourite passages. But I don’t. Neither of us seems to know language in this moment; it’s just bodies and breath wrapped inside a gnawing need to be free. To know permission and passion. I can only show you… soon. Soon, when we are finally and fully alone.

— to be continued —

we sit down to sup…

I want to lie face up. Legs spread. Looking you in the eyes. I want to trace my body so that you follow my curves and mounds and perfect imperfections down to where I most need you.

Then, I want your mouth to kiss my knee caps. I want your nose and mouth to trail down from there until you come to rest right between my legs. Smell me. I am the flower of your need. I am in full bloom. My petals already glisten-smooth-silk for you.

Let me feel your tongue slide along my slot. Go on, slick me up. Whet me even more than I already am. Feel the tip of my clit, flick it with your tongue… hard. Dip in now. Feel my lips enfolding yours as you suck me in.  I don’t want your tender, tentative mouth; I want you to draw out what ails me until I am nothing but feverish moans.

I want your mouth to bury itself inside my velvet seams until my back arches and my head falls back with a gasp. I want you sloppy, greedy, ravenous. The wet on your mouth, chin, and cheeks will become the same flavour that drips from my cunt and glistens on my thighs.

(Oh, how I want to feel your swelling cock in my hands, my mouth, my everywhere right now but now… this right now? We are here. Oh, fuck, you. are. so. here.)

Slurping, swallowing, sopping and suctioning yourself to me will only make me want to fuck you hard and deep and long – so passionately that your head will spin. My gasps and deep, throaty moans may suggest I need you to stop, that I need to pause to catch my breath, but no… oh, fuck, no:

“Don’t stop. It’s perfect… oh, so perfect. Please, please don’t stop.”

In fact, this is when my soft inner thighs will grip your ears so I can buck my hips up and thrust my clit deeper into your mouth. Deeper. I want to feel my clit bloom, wrapped inside your suckling, craving tongue.

This is when I want you to look up. I want you to see what you are doing to me. I want you to watch me delirious from the pleasure you give me. I want you to feel the heat off my rosy cheeks.

I want to look down and see you there, pinned between my legs, latched on to my pussy. I want to look into your eyes as I gasp your name… my treasure, my glorious lover.

Don’t ever stop.

this new day is too dear…

Beside me, warm from sleep, you roll over to gently place your waking mouth on my soft and dreamy nipples. Your warmth slowly traces me awake. It is this subtle stirring you seek:

The way my breath shifts from deep to shallow. The way my hips adjust, slightly pushing into your growing hard. The way your fingertips slip along sleep lines, tenderly imprinting your silent desire for me. The way my nipples sweetly harden enough for you to nibble and with my quiet moan, you feel my back arch, slipping my whole breast into your warm, wet mouth.

Such diffused urgency builds benevolence: the gift of these early hours. Neither feeling the need to think or be anything but untold tenderness.  When you breathe my skin under the covers, I taste you already between my legs.

Such simplicity opens us both to the other, to All That Is Possible. As you travel my length, I spread and swirl in slow motion; I want you to caress and hold me with hand and feet and lips and tongue and cock until all that is hard and wet and full uncoils within us like moany groans of ancient ships.

All the while, morning light streams through cracks. I watch my fingers slip through your hair and along your broad shoulders. I give myself to you. It is not long until I lift the covers and slip under with you; I too will taste the length of all your Pleasure.

Under cover of morning we will breathe in the other (and more) until heady with cum, we finally have the wherewithal to whisper “Good morning.”

even if it’s nothing…

even if it's nothing







I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
Like a desert wanderer afraid of mirages,
I gazed at my oasis, but he was real.

— Laura Whitcomb —

excerpts from the once-blind…

A man once told me that I make the trees turn on.
My presence, a switch that illuminates
his dark world, making it brighter and alive.
But his words, like so many others, were hollow —
mere shadows of the same dark,
delusions of an escape he hid inside.
His fear of freedom was
an echo I chose not to hear.

Stories like this, I wish weren’t true. I wish such stories weren’t mine. The ones I care about now feature you. Stories that promise more hours in a day to hear you cum. Stories that feature me climbing on top of you and sliding your cock inside, all the way to its meaty end. Where I bend over and you, on your knees, push your tongue between my lines and suckle me into tears of writhing, wanton pleasure.

Just like you’ve done before.
But more.
And again.

When you touch me, let me look. Let me watch pleasure overtake your jawline. When you kiss me, let me tremble with you. Let my pussy soak my panties before you undress me. When you moan with me, let me grip your thickening cock with the urgency I feel. Let me lick my lips in preparation to please you. Let me be my own light while you bask in your own – our skin entwined, ever-curious.


Don’t be afraid.
Don’t lie to me.
Don’t confuse me with someone
who is nothing without you,
is blind, afraid enough to possess you
or just walks away.

I’m not her.
Even when I forget to be…
I’m only and ever me.

fever pitch…

You place me at the perfect height: our eyes peer directly into the other’s. your hips gently push my legs apart as you move in to kiss me.  And like today’s welcome rain, the tenderness of your lips refreshes me like each drop of cleansing, wet air. We pause to simply drink one another in. Your gaze incites release. I feel my heart sob with joy.

I trace your sweet face and with each adoring sweep, I hold you so that I might give you the gift that lesser men have quailed from: I see you with open eyes. I accept your imperfect, scared smallest self. I smile, willing a courage I barely recognize myself. My fingertips imprint light into every crack they find. I trust, and in this, I offer you the best of myself.

You can feel pressure inside your chest building; it builds inside the history of your borders and boundaries, inside what others have forbidden and allowed, inside the dam that barely holds your fear at bay. You feel lost inside all this… space. Permission. You look down, away from me.

“It… feels… too much,” you say.
“To be found?” I ask.

Startled, you meet my eyes. And suddenly kiss me again. This time, on my temples, my brow, my high cheekbones, my sweet dimples, and full lips. Your hands hold me as your body urgently speaks words you’re not yet brave enough to say.

Your fingers deftly – tenderly – slide from my knee, up my velvety inner thigh and lighty… so so lightly, your fingers move up and down, inching closer to the wet that swells my pussy.  Reaching the velvety corner deep between my legs, between my thighs and mound, you look at me again, intent. You watch my expression as your fingers slowly so slowly flip and dance, back and forth – this time moving closer to my swollen, pulsing lips.

The fever has pitched. My petal-soft folds moan their pleasure through my throat. It comes out a gasping breath, a call and response led by my voice saying your name. My panties now to the side, I lean back with my long legs spread and I hook my calves and feet around you.

This time our shared gaze smolders. This time, when you put your fingers in my mouth, one-by-one, your jaw drops a little with anticipation. My looking at you is unadorned.  I want you inside me so fucking much. I am hunger and need and promise personified. I am yours. We are your bidding…


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