I can literally feel this.
(ohfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck)
Cum to me now.
(ohpleasepleasepleaseplease)
how to attract a conscious/ evolved man…
http://www.elephantjournal.com/2015/06/how-to-attract-a-consciousevolved-man/
There is no coming to consciousness without pain.
People will do anything, no matter how absurd,
in order to avoid facing their own soul.
One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light,
but by making the darkness conscious.
— C.G. Jung —
where you want me…
Where I want you…
an unquiet one…
Being adored… and feeling it.
Being wanted… and seeing it.
(It is possible… here in this moment, now.)
Being desired… and knowing it.
This is the pleasure beyond lust.
This is the hope beyond what has passed.
This is the glow in my eyes when I look at you.
Yes, at you.
i see. i want…
when you close your eyes, see…
reach behind me as you kiss me
slide my panties to the side
with your other hand
slip between and split me there
my ass so sweet
pump my wet
my legs spread just so to make room
for your curious fingers
your cock swells and dances for me
as we moan
my juice
all over
us
so much juice
so much
just for you
when the morning stars sang together…
the sun came and so did i…
I wore a skirt today.
Had you put your hand between my legs
I would have moaned quietly
In the back of my throat with low, soft cries
And looked you square in your beautiful eyes.
I wore a pair of lace panties today.
I almost didn’t, though.
Had you slipped the lace to the side
You would have felt warm, silky lips
Licking your finger tips.
I wore the memory of you
When I slipped away “for a moment.”
Had you only been there.
Each moan undressed me, my gasps commands
As my throbbing clit fed hungry sex to my hands.
Chorus:
I came three times today.
But there you were inside me.
I came three times today.
And there I was astride you.
I came three times today.
As you cried out beside me.
— Lola Moi —
when stars collide…
it’s been days…
My clit has been thick with longing for you. I walk to the store, panties soaked with how you please me. Driven to distraction – to my bed, seeking relief. Release. I say your name into the mattress. Can you hear me?
Somehow, days pass and time does not take its toll – what was, is still now, and we lie breathless in one another’s arms. I need to taste you again. I need to hear you moan. To say “yes” in your ear. To watch you cum… so very hard for me.
It’s when you look at me writhing under the force of your careful touch, your sweet caress, your plunging curiosity that I reach for you. You make me smile. Blush. I bite my lip – it’s that, or your shoulder. Our tongues trace each gasp of surprise. Where did you come from? My beautiful, sweet lover. Where did you go?
My body trembles still, knowing the way you watch me – so present in my pleasure, so intent on piquing my need. Your certainty parts my legs and your mouth so generously sucks, laps, strokes, and presses my thrumming, wet clit. The parting of my folds and spreading of my holes become our serenade. Your perfect cock, a beautiful rod of deeper truths.
To feel my hand in yours is to discover adoration. To look at you is to read words newly born. Yes. To give witness to your permission is to buck and arch and reach and spill over into soak. Our meeting is a universe of secrets stored in towers of honeycomb. Each breath, another chance.
— Lola Moi —