We lay claim to
who we were
in another’s arms.
We paint pictures
to remember.
When what matters
is that I still shiver
after I cum
because your smile
is waiting for me.
perhaps you will…
I just want you to lie still. Naked, in front of me. I want you to let me look at you, really look at you in all your glory. I want you to see my acceptance. I want you to see my delight. I want you to see my desire for the man you are, lying before me. Don’t close your eyes while I tenderly trace your skin. Be prepared for when I look into your eyes so that our souls may lock even as my fingers and hands continue their journey along your various lengths and widths.
You are glorious. Your giving heats my cheeks. Your quiet moans and wild eyes soak me through. You are so fucking beautiful when you are… this. I could spend all day like this with you.
And what textures you are! Touching you like this, like your lover, quickens my breath. Your body’s dance is my song. Soon we will sing and our cries will crescendo and harmonize and in sweaty disarray, I will let you watch me cum and beg you to join me.
I hope you will.
this new day is too dear…
Beside me, warm from sleep, you roll over to gently place your waking mouth on my soft and dreamy nipples. Your warmth slowly traces me awake. It is this subtle stirring you seek:
The way my breath shifts from deep to shallow. The way my hips adjust, slightly pushing into your growing hard. The way your fingertips slip along sleep lines, tenderly imprinting your silent desire for me. The way my nipples sweetly harden enough for you to nibble and with my quiet moan, you feel my back arch, slipping my whole breast into your warm, wet mouth.
Such diffused urgency builds benevolence: the gift of these early hours. Neither feeling the need to think or be anything but untold tenderness. When you breathe my skin under the covers, I taste you already between my legs.
Such simplicity opens us both to the other, to All That Is Possible. As you travel my length, I spread and swirl in slow motion; I want you to caress and hold me with hand and feet and lips and tongue and cock until all that is hard and wet and full uncoils within us like moany groans of ancient ships.
All the while, morning light streams through cracks. I watch my fingers slip through your hair and along your broad shoulders. I give myself to you. It is not long until I lift the covers and slip under with you; I too will taste the length of all your Pleasure.
Under cover of morning we will breathe in the other (and more) until heady with cum, we finally have the wherewithal to whisper “Good morning.”
to grow old…
things i would like to do to you…
the sound of things falling…
The smooth edges of my pussy glide up along your legs to your hips and farther still; I shift and adjust, finally resting at peace here behind you. I trust you with my weight. With the smoothest part of myself, I come to stillness atop your broad back. The oil slides. When I stroke and knead, your body winces from memories it will not speak – the details of all your hurts and joys I will likely never know.
There is a knot wrapped around one of your ribs, under your arm. I place my hand on this, this secret. My long legs straddle your width and our flesh mingles. My clit nestles. You are warm; I am grateful for your heat. With each inhale, I feel your expanse under the soft of my palm. I ease myself into this tender spot hidden under your arm, in the shadow of your bony cage.
For all our uncertainty, you allow me here – with you, in this place. I hold it dear, like a fawn who has yet to try her legs. I protect what lies under hand. This is what I do for you. And in return you close your eyes and breathe… just, breathe. This is what we are: a man and a woman, naked. We are the shadow.
And there is nothing between us. . . nothing except the hot breath of secrets.
when we said yes (or, roads taken)…
Afterwards.
We lay like that for a time. It should have been awkward but each breath was… simple. Quiet. And this stillness brought with it a calm, a terrifying calm. Each freckle, each edge of stubble, each bead of sweat still shining on his forehead was a beacon to something I’d never seen before – a storm inside me I’d left for others to read about in some story, long ago left dusty on a shelf. But here, now: each breath softened hard edges, drawing us closer, revealing a fit I never knew possible.
somewhere behind the morning…
Dear Gentle Sir,
If ever I have felt your mouth on me, it is because your tongue is a wand and my moans, my squirms, my arching spine, and spreading legs are the magic we make.
If I have ever felt your hands wrapped around me, it is because I am waiting for you to trace my curves and folds and slippery creases. It is because I want to feel your hands to spread me and juice me, as your fingers wander and whip me into the frenzy of delight I can be. I ache to feel your strong hands grip me with need and unstoppable desire.
If ever I have felt your cock slipping, inching, sliding, pounding, dancing, and filling me it is because you are beautiful and I am the mirror I want you to see. There you are – sexy, sweet, strong, and wondrous in your passion… even in your doubt, you are powerful.
Why else would I offer myself? Why else would I splay myself for you and your pleasure. Why else would I hold you in my arms and kiss you sweet? Why else would I try and try and try… until I have no words. Was it not you who titillated my mind and made my body tremble and arch and ache and drip and throb with impossible heat?
If ever you think of me, remember the gift you are. You still fill me like no other.
Squirmingly Yours,
Lola Moi xo
what a girl’s gotta do…
L
L
L
a flicker
recognition
we are creatures of habit
i could
if
you would