Tag Archives: secrets between lovers

forty two (or, ice cream and candles), part 2…

“I want to make a mess for you.”

Another long, deep, ravenous kiss inside the doorway.

“Would you like that?”

You blush in reply and push me up against the door, just pressing your body’s full length and width against mine. Of course I moan. Fuck, just feeling your weight against me makes me moan so deeply, I feel my clit vibrate that sends a shiver down to another moan.

“I’m going to cum for you, ok?”

You don’t reply but you don’t have to; your smile gives you away—it’s that secret smile you make when you’re at a loss for words. When the power of what you desire from me overwhelms you. I mean, there are only so many yes’ one man can say.

The dark night has locked us away in a breathy silence.

“Do you trust me?”

You nod. I kiss your neck gently as I tie the soft blindfold over your eyes. It’s quiet for a time. You can hear me moving about the room. I want all your senses attuned to me. Soon, we will be moving as one.

I return to you and begin to undress myself slowly. I want you to hear my nakedness unfold. I want you to picture me. Oh, fuck, how I want you to anticipate me. My smells bloom beneath you. I contemplate leaving my panties on, just so you can take them off me… but now, I don’t want anything between us. As they softly drop to the ground, you catch a whiff of my holy wet. Your cock jumps with recognition.

I then slowly remove your clothes. You are surprisingly unselfconscious; you are focused on the air between our bare skin. You can feel brief moments of shared heat. You gasp anytime we almost touch. When you are finally naked, I pause. You know I am looking at you, taking my time, drinking in every inch of your tall and wonderful body. I sigh. I am so turned on, standing naked like this with you.

“Oh my fuck, you are so beautiful.”

I don’t know who moans first and really, it doesn’t matter. What matters, is tasting you. I gently trace your lips with my tongue and you just barely feel the rounded edges of my air-cooled nipples as they lightly slide along your hot chest. You clench your fists; you’re not ready to fully touch or hold me. We both want to extend this delicious dance of Almost.

You feel me circling you. Each pause is different, there is no recognizable tempo to my greed and curiosity; I just want you in your entirety and I plan to take my time. I begin inhaling you and breathing into you. Then, lightly tracing you with lips, fingertips, nipples, hips, thighs, back and various other body bits… until finally, my palms and fingers hold, caress, press, grip, squeeze, and pull. In tandem, my mouth kisses, suckles, and then sucks. Your breath pitches into moans of basest pleasure.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Your moan is guttural. You nearly rip off the blindfold and fuck me right there on the carpet. You know you could, too. Without even looking, you know that my clit is thick and swollen, that my pussy folds are hot with shining juice and totally fucking swollen with impatience.

“Because I don’t want to stop.”
“Moan.”
“But I do want you harder.”
“Fuck.”
“Mmhm, that, too.”

I am everywhere now, even between your legs—both your hanging balls slip into my mouth, your ass crack is slick from my tongue, and your toes and ankles tingle from my sucks and kisses. I swoop in at random times just to lick the pre-cum off your hot, shiny-with-taut, pulsing cock.

But still you don’t touch me. If you try, I gingerly step away. Your moans become a mixture of joy and frustration… of ache and longing… of need, of need, of—

“Do you want me?”

Your knees buckle a bit. You hear unmistakable desire in the huskiness of my voice. Your mouth waters with your own lust.

“Take it off—the blindfold. Please… I can’t wait any longer…”

There I am on the sofa in front of you, on my tummy, grinding my clit down on my fist, just the way I like it. Exposed. Vulnerable. I have no idea how sexy I am to you in this moment. Looking at you with my brows furrowed, my jaw slackens as each exhale gently rolls into cascading moans. You take a step towards me—

“No.”

You stop in your tracks. My  moan weaves through my words,

“You… your… cock. Show. me.”

It is all the permission you need. One hand cups your balls and presses down on that secret pleasure spot—the same one my mouth sucked on a short time ago—while your other hand grips and glides up and down your beautifulfuckingthrobbing shaft. I moan, adjust myself so I can pick up speed.

“Tell me,”

I beg,

“Tell me how much you want me.”

You moan your gorgeous moan.

“Show me—your cock—gasp—please—OH—(moan)—show.me.show.me”

You are heating up.

“Fuck—”

We both pick up speed.

“Show me how much you want to fuck me—”

Your eyes dart between my face and the intoxicating rhythm of my gyrating hips.  My arm muscles flex as I push up against my clit, trying to find my grip despite the slick—the slick you can hear now, louder and louder in echo to our moans. When I ask you again, more urgently,

“Tell me.”

Your voice catches at first; all you can do is nod, and then,

“Yes!”

I beg,

“Please—”

I start to buck up and down on the couch. The springs give my eagerness away. You cry out.

“Fuuuck!”

Again, I beg,

“Yes? YES?!!”

When you reply,

“OHhhh, FUCK, YES,”

I release myself and turn to face you—ass up—my cunt a wet invitation… a smooth, thick, luscious backdoor offer.

“MOOOOAN!!!!”

With great force, you grab my hips, and plunge your meaty pole inside me. My arms outstretched, anchoring myself against the back of the sofa and cushions. I’m not tempering my cries and moans of pleasure in the least.

pound.
pound.
pound.

You love how I push back into you, arching my back, doing anything I can to get you as deep as fucking possible into me.

I shift my weight to my left leg and turning slightly towards you, we position my right leg up over your shoulder. You plunge even deeper than before. Your top hand grabs my tit and squeezes. My nipples are at your mercy.

This makes me wild. You make me wild. I meet your thrusts with my own. My right hand reaches for your face but my body is wracked with such force and pleasure, all it can do is sway with our fuck-rhythm. My other arm continues to brace us against the back of the sofa.

This angle is perfect: you can watch yourself slide in and out, my pussy lips slurp on your thick rod. You can watch my tits swing and enjoy how my cheeks flush each time you dive into me. I’m also watching you take us—all this—in; I feel amazing being with you like this. Watching your pleasure is almost as good as the pleasure you’re giving me. Your jaw tenses with effort and I am overcome with a need to stroke it, to hold your beautiful face.

“Come, make me cum.”

I lie down on the couch and try to pull you on top of me but instead, you stay at the end of the couch, push my legs up by my ears. As you do, you kiss the length of my right leg, pausing to suckle my toes. I suddenly feel shy by this but I give in to your delight, I give into your courage to be with me like this, I give into what pleases you: you pause with a little gasp as my left foot traces your bobbing cock, up your chest, and I offer my other foot. You look me in the eye as you lick and suck on both my feet and toes. Your eyes darken the way they do when you finally give into the wild abandon of your needs. Seeing you like this inspires a deep moan from the back of my throat.

You are already driving me more than a little crazy. I squeeze my tits as I anchor my legs against you. You spread me wider as you dive down with your mouth. I gasp, unable to breathe; your warm mouth feels so fucking good. Your hands begin to work in unison with your lips, tongue, and teeth; I can’t tell what’s dipping, what’s pressing, probing, pinching, circling or sucking… my ass, cunt, and clit are your playground. My hands pull your hair, tug at your ears—they guide you as much as follow; we linger where we must. You prefer the spots that make me cry out—the spots where I instinctively grind my cunt into your sweet face.

You come up for air and I lift my hips with you; I don’t want you to stop. But you want to see the effect of your handiwork. We are both drenched in sweat. My big brown eyes are shiny and wide. My mouth is open, panting. I am Moaning. I am fucking moaning your name over and over; you have become my prayer. You smile, proud.

“You like that, hey?”

I barely nod before you slide up along my body, placing my long, lean legs on either side of your head. You kiss me like lovers who love… this alchemy of skin.

I am folded under you. Your weight stokes my fire and I hold your face, finally. I kiss you again. I look you in the eyes as the weight of each thrust and pound drives your point home:

“Cum, Lola! Cum for me.”

I can feel it like a distant wave, I can feel it cresting in a kind of mini-orgasm and I know if you stop, I’ll never find it again, and I’ll never cum like I know I can when I’m with you.

“Don’t stop. PLEASE. Don’t.stop.”

You’re surprised.

“Are you—?”

But I need you to keep pace with me,

“Yesyesooohyesdon’tstopdon’t stop!”

Our tempo changes, you shift us into a higher gear. Sweat runs down your back.

“Cum! Cum!”

I feel the surge deep between my legs, like electricity through my back. You feel so fucking amazing. All I can do is repeat over and over to the beat of each pump,

“I’m so close, I’m so close, I’m so close—”

You’re just as inspired. Our passion has liberated you.

“For me! Cum for me!”

We are one breath, foreheads together, mouths mirroring the other. Moans cascade, tumbling out between gasps and cries that crest and crescendo. I can’t help it. I can’t stop it. I don’t want to.

“So close, so close, soo—”

You drill me so deep you can feel my stomach. I love. every. moment. You whip me into frenzy. My eyes widen, my jaw falls open, my fingers clench the cushions beneath us. You can see how close to the precipice I am.

“That’s it! CUM! Cum for me!”

Suddenly, I can feel it—I am going to spill and spill and spill all over you, all over this couch. The force of my cum begins to peak and you see my flicker of doubt. I know it’s going to be huge—

“Make a mess! I want it, all of it. I want you to—”

I want you to cum with me but I am dumb; there are no words left for me, only wave upon wave of surging, arching, squirting orgasm.

“YES! Give it to me, all over me, please, Lola, YES!”

I can’t hold it back, even if I wanted to. Our bodies convulse. I gush in all directions; my squirt is a tsunami of release. We cry out as your cum fills me and spills out along the crease of my thighs, down the crack of my ass.

We hold tightly to one another even as we’re lost in the other’s arms. We are a glorious mess. I can feel and smell you everywhere and in this moment, I can think of nothing better.

Slowly, we catch our breath. I unfold my legs. You pull me on top of you as we still the racing of our hearts. My head rests on your broad chest and I listen to your heartbeats slow to a steady pulse. As you trace a mindless pattern on my back, you quietly say,

“Wow.”

I smile, lifting my head in response. My breath catches a little when I look at you. You are fully here with me, radiant and whole. Your freedom is infinite. My eyes tear up. I am smitten by the power of your masculine beauty. You move a strand of hair off my sweaty, rosy cheek. Tenderly, you place it behind my ear.

“You are so beautiful, Lola… Just, wow.”

This time, it’s me that blushes.

not a bird or a symbol…

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 —

http://i1.wp.com/adissolutelifemeans.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/photo1.jpg?resize=52%2C52

carry the sky on your back…

I had to change my panties today when I arrived home; I’d been thinking about you. Trying not to think about you made it worse and the warm, secret-gush of my pussy juice had soaked through. Even now, after changing into fresh lace, I can smell the lingering aroma that’s dried on my fingertips along with a knuckle.

And I think about your mouth, your whiskers pressed deeply against the silky folds of my cunt. Your nose pressed against my trimmed mound. I inhale deeply and as I walk to the sink, I think about you: when you latch on and suck
and suck
and suck…
until light.

don’t watch the clock…

I’ve waited all day for this…

guard well your spare moments…


This dance we make beats in rhythm to my need.
You may fuck her and love her but it is my beat you return to.

beauty marks…

what matters is that you are flowering…

Dear Gentle Sir,

Your hug presses my subtle curves against your body as we breathe. We hold this embrace, we breathe one another in – the smell of my hair, the clean cotton of your shirt – we breath in our heat.

My heart beats faster as you slowly pull away but keep your hand on the back of my hip. I look into your beautiful face as your other hand slowly traces around my ribs and down my side. Your thumb trails behind as it rides over the soft mound of my outer breast. As usual, I follow your shy lead. As usual, your confident desire overcomes both of us.

I leave one hand on the back of your neck, the other rests on your chest. I am in love with your masculine width and tender breath. I want to stay here, encased inside your casual embrace, held in your quiet assurance.

Both hands rest on my hips now. You are about to speak but instead you look at me. You don’t look away. You play with a strand of my long hair, pause again to drink my face in and then you sigh softly.

This stillness…

It counters the fury of my heart beating. It balances out the countless ways I want to suck you off, lick you clean, suckle your skin in secret places, and make your toes curl with mind-numbing pleasure. It forces me to pretend that I haven’t stroked my clit, spread my swollen lips while you watched – smelling my fingers afterwards – before I put them in your starving mouth. It begs my silence even as my pussy lips swell and vibrate with my fuck-juices – these dark lips of mine that want nothing more than to grind in/on/ with you. This stillness of ours moans my unquenchable, wholly fuckable, loving desire for you… that has yet to abate and likely never will.

Our calm, unnamed certainty is the best of all intimacies – that roots itself now in the rumbling passion and uninhibited cries, jaw dropping moans, and throaty cums that are to follow.

Not So Silently Yours,

Lola xo

while i invisibly remain standing…


I don’t need you to paint a picture for me; I know what it is to feel you beside me. I know how it feels to look at you and silently name you “Friend” and “Lover” and “Beloved.” These quiet truths I solemnly commit to memory. They rock me to my core — not unlike the silken tip of your throbbing cock that wakes you from day-walking and deepest sleep… insistent.

We have found ourselves in this place that only makes sense when we are both here; this hallowed space we have created and nurtured and grown. I know what it is to feel your eyes on me and not want to hide. I know what it is to spread myself wide and feel your depths inside me. I am the light shining through each achy, heady bead of pre-cum bliss.

Invisible, we are everywhere. Tonite, now: I run my finger along the smooth, downy-soft topside of my clit. I do this for you. I do this for me. You will likely forget my small, tender creases of secret pleasure but never forget how each is stamped with your name. It is so simple: I want to make love to you as badly as I want to fuck you. Our withdrawal gives me the shakes.

al(l)ways…

Dear Gentle Sir,

Before I fuck your brains out, I will kiss the palm of your hand and gently suckle your neck, just behind your earlobe.

Before I make your toes curl, I will wrap my tongue around your balls and hum my moaning need to feel you burst with cum inside me.

Before you watch me arch and squirt my pleasure all over your hand, I will ride and slide my slit along your cock with my hands pressed against your chest.

I will moan your name like a growl. I will moan your name with every buck and tug and pound. I will moan your name to the beat of my every pleasure. How we will dance together under this full moon!

Before you wake, I will fuel your dreams with memories so potent you will weep not to find me there.

Always, in all ways,

Lola xo

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