Posted on

even in silence…

It’s a complicated thing, wanting you. Loving you in this way. Inviting you to accept my desire and pleasure and need as equal to yours… as equally tempting, sexy, beautiful, and powerful. “Is this alright?” No. Stop. There is no doubt: you are my lover, the one I can’t get enough of. The one whose smile makes my pussy swell. The one I want touching me, tasting me, licking and suckling me, testing and tempting me… fucking me into oblivion.
.
.
.

Your cum begins just as mine peaks. Our lips meld, shaped wide in the mirrored “O” of our orgasm. Your cries vibrate along my jaw and the force of your final release makes me weep. This is all you needed—for me to lose myself like this in your arms. Your cock fills then pulses and pulses and pulses as I squirt all over you. My mess is merciless. My fingers dig into your strong body as I push into you—begging you to pulse inside me one more time. Our foreheads together, we kiss… breathy, slow, sensuously.

I wrap my tongue around yours and you briefly suck on my upper lip before gently pulling tendrils of hair off my face. The power of your tenderness—before and now—inspires yet another moan from me. Your hand cups my face so you can look at me. My eyes are bright as I return your gaze. Your knees buckle in this weird slow motion way when you see how true I see you. When you see where our secrets took us—what permission they unlocked. When you see how much I loved being with you just now. When I let you take your time drinking my disheveled body in… gleaming with our sweat and cum.

You gently kiss me in all the places you missed before; you smooch and nuzzle against me until my breath settles. My hand leisurely traces your hair, your ears, and jaw, your shoulder and limbs and lips. When you rest your head on my hip and wrap your arms around me suddenly and squeeze, I’m surprised to see how much you’ve given me of yourself.  My smile: my trust. You know then, without asking, that I want to do this again with you… in all the different ways we can think of and those we can only feel. I want to taste your freedom again when it’s like this—naked.

Posted on

vantage point…

vantage pointSimplify your need:
undress for me
even when I’m not there.
Touch yourself
with the same ardour
and caress that satisfies
itself on my soft roundness.
Pull your hard certainty out
in those moments of echo
that fear you may never
watch me cum again.
Such acts are a most complex
release into the Unknown
of what Completes us.
Like a cloud upstaging the moon,
memory shields us
in order to illuminate the point.

Posted on

yes, you are…

Mr-Feelgood-Stuff –  “Take Your Pleasure Seriously”

I’ve ruined my panties.

yes, you are
Soaked with thots of you, they are.
You’ve made me cum three times.

yes, you are 2
And I can tell…
I’m not finished yet.

http://57.media.tumblr.com/86a95f37cac6148c0ee89fd3c686ada7/tumblr_o058w8mGB11tj12mto1_500.gif
This is the persuasion of your memory.
This, the power of your presence around me.

Posted on

to which we are attached…

Dear Gentle Sir,

There are things I remember on nights like this when the moon is full and wind blows off the crashing waves of a lake.

There was the way it felt to walk hand-in-hand, your tall shoulder shadowing mine. Our smiles, silent backdrop to the tinkling summer leaves around us. The grit of sand underfoot, wrapped around my sighs just like your strong arms once held me.

The kiss that stopped us both. The hands that peeled our clothes. The legs that gripped you as you lifted and carried me. The bed that creaked under the weight of our anticipation.

The smooth edges of your groaning cock. The weight of your chest and hips. The wet roaming of our tongues. The bucking of our moans. The spreading of my legs and bending of my back. The fucking of our fingers and mouths and more… so much.

The way it felt to look into your eyes and want more. The way it felt to see my desire mirrored. The way you moaned and reached… for me, for your cock, for me… again. The spontaneous shifts and spreadings and splitting aparts to deeper wet, to heat beyond either of our wildest dreams.

To want you. To see you. To fuck you. To squirt for you. To cum with you. To find in you, reciprocal delight.

There are things I remember on nights like this when the moon is full and wind blows off the crashing waves of a lake. Mostly, I remember magic and minor miracles… puffs of Goodness. Mostly, I remember you.

Longingly Yours,

Lola Moi xo