Secret Thots for a Very Private Gentleman
tales, temptation, and titillation…
In trains we need not choose our company
For all the logic of departure is
That recognition is suspended; we
Are islanded in unawareness, as
Our minds reach out to where we want to be.But carried thus impersonally on,
We hardly see that person opposite
Who, if we only knew it, might be one
Who, far more than the other waiting at
Some distant place, knows our true destination.
— Philip Larkin —
yours is the light by which my spirit’s born:
– you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.
— e.e. cummings —
and all I can think about is you.
Slide your tongue here, where I am softest.
Kiss me like you mean it.
Pin my arms above my head, nibble my neck
As you slide your thick need between my sweet, wet folds.
Hold my legs over my head and suckle me from ass to clit.
Don’t stop; I want you to make me moan.
Pull your cock out, free yourself, and give into my admiration.
Let me tongue you in those places you barely touch,
Have rarely given over to another.
Feel my hands on you; holding, pulling, caressing with my care.
Forgive my urgency, my need, my wet.
Believe every time I’ve ever adored you; there is no other story.
It may be the full moon calling us.
It may be the waves echoing memory.
After all, the moontide reminds us that past is always present.
There is no mystery or charm to the Why.
It may be the simple fact that you never left.
It may be the deepest truth that I am here because you are here
And you are you,
And you are enough.
We are worthy of our desire, of this union,
And of this heat that builds into fire.
In this, we are well-met.
Mirrors to the other in surprising ways.
It is not enough to be flesh; we are more
In this meeting of mind, body, and soul.
This, we know.
— Lola Moi —
… your full, kissable mouth.
show me.
… your clever tongue.
squirm for me.
… your sweet, thick clit.
harder, deeper.
… your inner thighs of silk.
ravish me.
… your beautiful, beautiful cunt.
let me watch.
… your hungry eyes.
spread wider.
… your eager ass.
devour me.
… your gorgeous long hair
soak me.
… your pretty pussy.
fuck me into frenzy.
fuck, yes.
… yes.
cum with me
… yes.
moan.
… oh, moan.
Sometimes, it’s so simple: I just want you to fuck me.
(And now would be a good time to start.)
On my back, my pussy gushes with each plunge my fingers make. I work my clit for you; each gasp a testament to the depths of our mutual appreciation. My body dances to the rhythm of your breath. The look in your eyes mirror mine: we each are overwhelmed in this gift of meeting and pleasing, and in this heat of fueling the other’s secret desires. I am here with you; there’s no place I’d rather be.
I do this for you. You know this because you see it in me.
The echo of your moans thrill me – inspire me. I am so deep inside for you. How I love the way my sounds make you clench and squirm. Your face flushes as you restrain yourself, as you lick your lips and try to catch your breath… to steady yourself. You tell yourself you don’t need me like this. Inside, a chant: this will be another day without her, without seeing her, hearing her, smelling her like this. You believe you are immune to the force of our attraction. And in so many ways you are… just not today.
Just watching me makes you want to cum.
I whip myself closer to frenzy, my cunt overflows with joy to be so close – so spread – for you. “Fuck,” you whisper… mesmerized. You pull your cock out, and I slick it with my juiced-up hand. Your moan is lost in our kiss. As you begin the delicate work of coaxing honey-sweet precum out of your beautiful hard, my breath leaves me. Fuck… fuckfuckfuck. My sweet lover, just looking at you and my cunt thrums and throbs with desire.
For you.
My big brown eyes see you the way you can’t yet see yourself: unquenchable. Wholly desirable. We smile at one another and I realize I like you this way – lost in the “yes” of us, in the silky promise of my slicked-up inner thighs. What madness makes me want to dance like this for you and never stop? My back arches again and again. Our shared pleasure is the stuff dreams are made of.
Time is lost.
And soon, we find ourselves at a new beginning. Here, together, a man and a woman begin to glimpse The Impossible. As we receive from the other in ways that we feel wholly undeserving of, we begin to find ourselves new. With each panted breath, we mirror our own fragility. Our intimate release fans more than passion, we decimate the ancients of doubt, shame, and fear.
The dark is around us now but you are light.
You are brave enough to look into my eyes as my body shakes. You are promise. You are the repeated thot, the secret memory waiting impatiently years from now. But right now, together, we are the juiciest cum. Moan for me tonite and you will see.