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 —

just a second choice…

I cup your balls in my hand as you straddle me on the bed to kiss me. Your mouth is sweet and my back arches up; I want my nipples to brush your broad chest. Our tongues play while my hand methodically works your hard into harder. Up and down and around, I twist you into a pleasure of moans.

I smile into our next kiss and you pause to look at me. Suspended above me, you look deeper into me than anyone else ever has. I love this about you – your boldness with me. The reward: I let you see me… it… I let you see how hungry I am for you. The tease of my smile and the dimples of delight in my cheeks give me – your bright-eyed lover – away.

I pull on your lip with my teeth as I pull your cock closer and with both hands, I knead that first gasp out of you. My legs splay under you, the inside of my knees pushing against the outside of yours. Every gasp and moan that escapes your beautiful mouth works me  into a state of wet. I am clever and tenacious, tender and wicked, saucy and sweet with your skin, with your mouth and the stunning thick of your amazing cock.

I want to be ready for you when you finally decide you must fuck me.
You aren’t the only one waiting to fill me.

I slide down until your cock slips into my mouth. My throat sucks you all the way in… and back. I push you deeper from behind. I hold you with my lips and suck you suck you suck. You want to thrust but I hold you still. You want to grab me everywhere. Your hands flail as I push your hips towards me just a. little. deeper. I suck you suck you suck.

This confidence I have with you translates so clearly: I will have you dizzy with desire. My mouth full of glorious, rock-hard cock, I watch you now as my hands push up behind your balls and slide back and forth, forth and back, back further until I slip inside and find that secret you keep. I slip inside and your eyes widen as you look down at me. Pressing down on that sweet bulb inside you, your gasps become cries and finally, finally! You finally pump… as you must.

You are so close.
But you want to fill me more… to spread my folds – in the deepest, hottest wet I am.

Fuck.
I’m more than ready.
Fuck fuck fuck
Fuck, yes.
Y.e.s.

 

to make them blush…

to make him blush

The words that make the rose bloom were also said to me.
The words told to the cypress to make it grow strong and straight,
The instructions whispered to the jasmine,
And whatever was said to the sugarcane to make it sweet,
And to the pomegranate flowers to make them blush,
The same thing is being said to me.

– Anne Lamott –

rose bloom

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 –