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handle with care…

handle with careOh my fuck, I can’t stand it.
I can’t stand
not touching you.
I can’t stand not feeling your eyes on me.
I need to touch you
and be touched by you.
I need to hear you moan as you watch my pleasure.
I need to taste you with my everything.

so
.
many
.
needs

So, when I grab your hand and lead you into the bedroom, it’s not on sudden impulse; my tug is a longstanding ache of horny that has been needing you in unspeakably hot and naughty ways.

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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.

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dickens says (and so do i)…

You are part of my existence, part of my self. You have been in every line I have ever read, since I first came here, the rough common boy whose poor heart you wounded even then. You have been in every prospect I have ever seen since — on the river, on the sails of the ships, on the marshes, in the clouds, in the light, in the darkness, in the wind, in the woods, in the sea, in the streets.

amazing grace
You have been the embodiment of every graceful fancy that my mind has ever become acquainted with. The stones of which the strongest London buildings are made, are not more real, or more impossible to be displaced by your hands, than your presence and influence have been to me, there and everywhere, and will be… to the last hour of my life, you cannot choose but remain part of my character, part of the little good in me, part of the evil.

set fire to the rain