that make all the difference.
not a bird or a symbol…
… a woman burning.
What ache would you deny?
I celebrate
the wax and its sun, the wingless
skeleton, my silt my swoon.
—— Katie Longofono —
salty treats…
Suddenly missing your mouth…
in this freedom, bold…
All of a sudden, I miss your mouth.
the wettest county…
a hands-on approach…
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.”
in excelsis deo…
L
L
L
LYour mouth on me is our secret glory.
Your mouth on me is a glorious moan.
Your mouth on me is exactly what I asked for.
Oh, how I long to sing your praises again.
Listen, you can hear me…
to experience becoming…
When I am with you, I look at you. I search your eyes for pleasure. I watch your jaw, the crease of your mouth, waiting for the taut line of resistance to give way to blushing pleasure. When I smile at you it is not just because I love the way my pussy petals bloom under your dextrous tongue and suckling lips – it is because you are there between my legs and you, wonderfully naked you, are more than I could’ve hoped for. When I moan with you, when I moan your name, it is because my skin against yours is like nothing before or after. You take my breath, now, then, there, and here. Fuck. My outline on the bed, my arms reaching for you, my legs spreading and my hips teasing you is real. This juice sliding past my velvet folds and over, slicking up my clit – all this wet is you and what you do to me. My hands read you like a book and give with every breath they take. My nipples… a meditation I trace your body with. Our moans: such humbling, hungry need. I am butter against all your beautifully warm skin and your gorgeous hard cock. When you bend me over, I look back at you. I want to be your pleasure. I offer up all the naked I am for just one moan. Just one pump. Just one cum.
… and then, more.