Pin me to my pleasure.
Keep me here, on the brink.
Each tremble, every quiver and spasm is your making.
I love this.
Don’t let me go; don’t stop.
I need you to please me like this again.
Watch me, trapped beneath you,
Lost in my body’s hot, swollen, wet euphoria.
poetry in motion…
We spoke all night
in tongues,
in fingertips,
in teeth.
— Robert Haas —
how hard is hard enough…
Dear Gentle Sir,
What is it like to see the look in my eyes change because of the pleasure you bring to my body? What is it to feel my wet heat seep between the fingers that are knuckle deep in my cunt? How do my warm folds snuggle up against your pumping cock? What part of your body clenches when my mouth drops open as so many moans for you tumble out?
I want to be your chest that heaves with urgency as you undress me. I want to be your eyes that watch our bodies become one and separate and become one over and over again. I want to be your nerves that tingle when my tongue traces around your ears and balls and inner thighs.
What is it that makes it so easy to say “no” to me? What is it that whispers in your reasoning mind when I admit how your skin makes mine heat and my clit ache? What compels you to turn away knowing how I gush and soak my panties every time I hear your voice?
I want to spread for you. I want to jiggle with abandon as we take turns riding riding riding. I want to make you dizzy with permission. I want your hand to be mine and feel it squeeze from the intense pleasure you give me. I want to watch your jaw set with determination as my cum draws near. I want our lips to almost touch as we make a delicious mess together.
What is it that makes you say “yes” to any part of me? What is it about me that charges your balls to swirl under your raging-hard cock? What is it that invites you to think about me even when you don’t mean to or want to or imagine you should? What is it that compels you to spread me wide with your imagination?
I want you. I want you to want me. I want to be you with me; to watch what I feel and experience that deepening of yourself inside you. I want to be your tongue that tastes my goodness and light and power and promise. I want my pleasure to drip into your mouth as it fuels your spirit. I want to look down or up or sideways or over my shoulder, seeing you there… with me.
Deeply Yours,
Lola xo
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.
never the same again…
All sorts of things in this world behave like mirrors.
— Jacques Lacan —
this and that…
Tonite, my pussy thrums. I will slip out of my sexy lace thong. I will slide along the warmth of my folds and marvel. (This amazes me: how soft am I!) I will slide my fingers along, around, inside and out pleasuring myself, thinking of this and that – attached to you. And the scent of my juices will sugarcoat the moans of each breathy cum I make.
let others lead small lives…
Tell me anything and everything.
I just want to be the one you tell it all to.
Please let me be the one.
— via keeppthevibe —