when the fig leaves refuse to fall…

Here I am. Still. Standing at the end of the bed. You’ve witnessed every inch of clothing slip off and down my soft skin. It lies at my feet, just as I stand at yours. I am beautiful but only you know this.  The way I look at you makes you feel the same but you tell yourself you’re not ready to believe. After all, how could I give you this… give you myself like this?

We are like new.


When I climb on the bed, your heart beats so fast, your first instinct is to reach – to protect or to gather… you’ll never be sure. Your hands pause mid-air, framing me, guiding me and the spread of my legs around your body as I travel up, up, up. I am so much softer than you imagined. My smell surprisingly hot and sweet. My thighs brush slowly and trace along your sweet, shy outline – a man who has never quite been loved the way he fully needs. Up, up, up to lower myself down onto your face.

Yes, you must moan.
I am here for you.
My beautiful friend, my sweet lover.
Open your mouth for me.

You spread my folds and take my thickened clit between your hungry lips. My head drops back and I brace myself against the wall. I push my whetted need deeper into your suck, and I can already feel the squirt I want to cum.

My hands lose themselves in your hair, in the pulling and holding of you against my delicious cunt. Deeper and wider; here, between my silky lips is where I give in to the imagination of your insatiable mouth.

My moans are gasps. My gasps are yours. I am riding you like this. I have chosen you. In return, you give me impossible pleasure. Yes. Oh, God, yes.

Your clever mouth reads me, hears how my breath loses its own pace, and when I try to move away, when I try to protect myself from completely opening up, your knees bend, your hands remember their gentle strength and hold me tight – right where you want me, right where I am afraid to stay for fear of overwhelming you. For fear of finding too much of all I need.

And in this moment, you stop apologizing, you give in to the contradictions of your desire and you suck harder. You push your fingers into me and as you hook my g-spot, you choose me. You seek out my big brown eyes and see my raw affirmation. There is no going back; there is only what awaits us.

We fuck exactly the way we want to. We make a kind of love we once told ourselves was too much to hope for. We carve passion from trust as my pussy juice runs slick down your chin. I rub my clit – my thick, bold clit – chanting your name like a prayer. Your other hand slips behind and I spread my ass cheeks so you can dance and probe me from both sides. I am pinned. I am your every wish.

You are doing all this to me. I am only here because it’s you. We offer ourselves to the other in this ceremony of knowing, of sharing, of fucking. We have become all that we are too afraid to say.

I grind my most secret self into your face and I beg you. I. Beg. You. The naked need in my voice pushes you beyond what self-control you have left. You want me to lose my fear – to make a mess – and give to you fully.

I so want to cum for you… with you. Our moans are now cries and who cares who hears. You push me up and there on our knees, facing the other – slick from hours of sweaty seduction – our cum erupts, squirts, and flows over our tired hands.

All that matters is the other’s pleasure. All that matters is this most honest meeting in the middle. All that matters is us. We are a revelation that soaks the bed beneath us.

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