Secret Thots for a Very Private Gentleman
tales, temptation, and titillation…
The falling leaves drift by the window
The autumn leaves of red and gold….
I see your lips, the summer kisses
The sunburned hands, I used to hold
Since you went away, the days grow long
And soon I’ll hear ol’ winter’s song.
But I miss you most of all my darling,
When autumn leaves start to fall.
— Johnny Mercer —
Like, really near…
The heart has its reasons, whereof reason knows nothing.
— Pascal —
It’s the possibility
of having a
dream come true
that makes life
interesting.— Paulo Coelho —
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.
