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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.

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dilettante…

Dear Gentle Sir,

There is a man who believes I pine for him. This couldn’t be farther from the truth: this is one of many stories he tells himself to make himself feel better – his hollow attempt to right the wrongs he’s convinced himself are mine.

I am not thinking of what was never there with him when my tongue swirls around your balls, making them swing, inspiring delirious pleasure. I am too busy bucking up against you as you drill that beautiful, thick, pulsating cock into me.

I am relying on our moans and my taut nipples and your strong hands and our bodies – straining with pleasure –  to keep us here: now, right where we are, fucking and free.

Deeply Yours,

Lola xo

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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.

Just…

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.

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for the time being…

… when you pause, dick-deep in me, and look me in the eyes – probing my clit with your confident, curious fingers. You smile as I squeeze my tits and arch and moan with throaty pleasure.

Anything to hear me make this sound – that’s what we both know you’ll do.

That’s what I count on every time I undress for you. That’s what I long for when I slip past the waistline of my panties and caress my secret-smooth mound.

That’s what I need.
And more…
I need you.

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when time is spent…

Once, I met a man and I very nearly came the first time he entered me. I rode this man but I didn’t love him; I loved how his cock made me feel. He filled me beyond anything I’d ever known before.

A bird sits on my windowsill.
It fluffs its feathers and waits for others to arrive.
It doesn’t look up at the sun.
It sees me through my window and it simply serenades.

Many times, I made a man I (once) loved cum. I looked into his eyes as we filled one another; I looked because I saw him for who he was and still found joy. His lies filled me beyond anything I’d ever known before.

Sometimes we sleepwalk
Daylight fluffs its nighttime wings and whispers.
Someone traces secrets in the air that we cannot quite hear.
We blind ourselves – as one with the deaf and dumb.

I cry your name in deepest pleasure. I pull you close and feel impossibly new.  The breath I once thought my own, rides the wind over water, through trees of cedar, under bark. I sit and see truth.

In life we are undone.
In waking-dreams we are made new.
With the right person, healing happens
But first, we must awaken.