in your hands…

http://78.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lcispo3vwW1qeksdwo1_500.jpg

I discovered a depth of desire that will only ever echo your name.
And in this knowing, I touch my softest parts, again and again,
ever dewy from knowing the strength and tenderness of your touch.
I wait for your gaze to remind me of what was possible and what might yet be.

I open to you, flush with hope, wet with need, soft with moan.
Lover, come to me.

 

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.

tunnel vision…

The problem with looking for images for this blog is that on days like today, I simply cannot choose; you are everywhere. You are in me, on me, behind me. We are wrapped, splayed, spread. I am reaching, pumping, dripping.  Together: under, beside, on top. And again: licking, moaning, squirting.

Lover, you are everywhere.

Each image, every video reminds me of what we’ve already done or fuels hope for what might yet be. And I am whipped into horny wet… here, where I sit. I soak my panties thinking about you. I rush home, I climb into bed, into the tub – anywhere I can be wet wet wet. And all I want is to cum with you – for you… and you, for me.

And you have no idea, my Sweet how sexy you truly are.

Truth is, these days are many – so fucking many days like today – when you are all my skin can think about. When I am overwhelmed with wanting you. When I know how well-met we are in that secret place the other needs.

For how complex things are, this is simple: I want you. And I know: you want me. Fuck, I want you more than I know how to say. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Just, fuck.

tunnel vision

 

holy fuck, yes…

Dear Gentle Sir,

There is a spot in my clit that, when pressed/squeezed/sucked, fills my entire body with delicious squirm. There is a spot along your jaw that has the same effect on me – mostly when you look me in the eyes and smile. And always when you moan. Always then.

There is spot in the crook of each elbow (cousin to the same spots behind my knees) that, when licked/suckled/nibbled, fills me wet and raw with hunger. There is a spot under the head of your cock that has the same effect on me – mostly when you groan and tremble uncontrollably with electric need. And always when you blush. Always then.

There is a spot between us that is silent, still. A space that awaits your touch – suspended time. A breath between us, sometimes translated into words we read. Other times, into the secret, soft crevices of the other’s ear. A pause that is the slick juice between my legs, the hardening of my nipples, the arch of my ass into the air, the sweet swelling of my lips, and the reaching of my heart’s skin to feel you inside me. Again.

And again.
Fuck, I need to feel you again.
To see your eyes full of need for me, and for you to see mine, too.

There is a spot inside you, inside me, that neither of us can deny. (As much as we have tried. And will likely try some more.) You: the calm before the storm. Me: the “yes” to your “no.” We trace these spots – so many spots – in our mind’s eye, each time we lick the tips of fingers that still shine with the slick secret of our honey cum.

To remember is to do.
To do is to create memories new.

“Tell me more. Show me.”

Please,

Lola Moi xo