waiting patiently for you to turn away from all your busy comings and goings, to recognize her, greet her, and welcome her home.
— Katrina Kenison —
to experience becoming…
When I am with you, I look at you. I search your eyes for pleasure. I watch your jaw, the crease of your mouth, waiting for the taut line of resistance to give way to blushing pleasure. When I smile at you it is not just because I love the way my pussy petals bloom under your dextrous tongue and suckling lips – it is because you are there between my legs and you, wonderfully naked you, are more than I could’ve hoped for. When I moan with you, when I moan your name, it is because my skin against yours is like nothing before or after. You take my breath, now, then, there, and here. Fuck. My outline on the bed, my arms reaching for you, my legs spreading and my hips teasing you is real. This juice sliding past my velvet folds and over, slicking up my clit – all this wet is you and what you do to me. My hands read you like a book and give with every breath they take. My nipples… a meditation I trace your body with. Our moans: such humbling, hungry need. I am butter against all your beautifully warm skin and your gorgeous hard cock. When you bend me over, I look back at you. I want to be your pleasure. I offer up all the naked I am for just one moan. Just one pump. Just one cum.
… and then, more.
wonderland…
when we said yes (or, roads taken)…
Afterwards.
We lay like that for a time. It should have been awkward but each breath was… simple. Quiet. And this stillness brought with it a calm, a terrifying calm. Each freckle, each edge of stubble, each bead of sweat still shining on his forehead was a beacon to something I’d never seen before – a storm inside me I’d left for others to read about in some story, long ago left dusty on a shelf. But here, now: each breath softened hard edges, drawing us closer, revealing a fit I never knew possible.
valtari…
if i reach out my hand…
When you breathe on me, my body responds with your name. And I want you exactly where you are, the way you are. I want to spread myself so that you can peer deep into my need, and still sing my praises – even as my soul sings yours. I want your tongue to trace every tremor. Our fingers entwine because we meet in the middle, and the force of our meeting – this pushing, and grinding, and moaning into shoulders, necks, thighs, and more – is a blessing I have dreamt of but was afraid to ask for. Your eyes full on mine, now.
Come here.
Be with me.
My sweet lover, my friend.
Cum.
the art of kissing…
Every lover is a glutton. He wants everything that is part of his sweetheart, everything. He doesn’t want to miss a single iota of her “million-pleasured joys” as Keats once wrote of them. That is why, when kissing, there should be as many contacts, bodily contacts, as is possible.
Snuggle up closely together. Feel the warm touch of each other’s bodies. Be so close that the rise and fall of each other’s bosoms is felt by one another.
Get next to each other.
And, this same thing applies to the mouth in kissing. Don’t be afraid to kiss with more than your lips. After your lips have been glued together for some time, open them slightly. Then put the tip of your tongue out so that you can feel the smooth surface of your kissee’s teeth.
This will be a signal for her to respond in kind. If she is wholly in accord with you, if she is, truly, your real love-mate, then you will notice that she, too, has opened her lips slightly and that, soon, her teeth will be parted. Then, if she is all that she should be, she should project the tip of her tongue so that it meets with the tip of yours.
Heaven will be in that union!
Lava will run through your veins instead of blood. Your breath will come in short gasps. There will rise up in you an overpowering, overwhelming surge of emotion such as you have never before experienced. If you are a man, you will clutch the shoulders of your loved one and sense a shudder course through you that makes you pant. If you are a woman, and being kissed, you will feel a strange languor passing through your limbs, your entire body.
A shudder will go through you. You will moan in the delicious transports of love. And, in all probabilities, you will go faint because the blood in your veins will be rushing furiously into your entire system and away from your head.
Thus, you will be unable to think any longer. You will only be able to feel, to feel the most exquisite of pleasures that it has been your lot to feel.
– Hugh Morris –