I could watch her the rest of my life.
— Philip K. Dick —
hand in hand…
feeding you…
My fingers find their way to your mouth. You open for me and let me in. Tentatively… no, gently, I enter: one finger at first. Your tongue: warm and intelligent, dances with my curious skin. We listen to the music of our breath, and soon the tempo of my heartbeat pushes me deeper. I can taste you. I can taste the pleasure between us.
I moan.
You sigh most deliciously.
I could stay here forever, with my breasts resting snug against your chest, your hands lightly holding my hips. Our lips barely touch. We are so close together… all we are is breath. My fingers deftly trace and mark my need; my gasps become the sound of our shared desire. Your warm, moist, hungry mouth tugs and I arch as your confident hands pull my wet closer. Yes, my wet – you can taste it through my fingers and now we both moan.
Your soft tongue wrapped around my finger is naked…
i bite my lip…
Your jaw aches when I touch myself. I pleasure myself until you moan… until you look me in the eye and groan your need. You bite your lip to stop yourself from begging… for a taste. Again and again I rub, squeeze, trace, pinch, dip and slide. You spread my legs, prop them up against your thick chest and broad shoulders; your licks and kisses trace along my leg, you suck my toes.
My gasps are echoes to my back arching, my hips swaying and lifting with each husky gasp and sweet sigh you make. My fingers dance and dip along my lips as they puff and fill with heat. You smell my wet, you hear it and you whimper. Your hand beats in time to mine, your cock now dancing to our shared rhythm.
Fuck, I want you. I am starving for you.
I want to taste you so badly, my jaw aches.
I bite my lip to stop myself from begging… for you to taste me.
– Lola Moi –
