Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Lost and Found

To be lost in sensation, to be lost in the tangle of pleasure. To be lost in a sea of mouths and tongues and hands and arms and legs and cocks and searing skin and flesh. To be lost as we slip and slide and slither together, a delectably indiscriminate mass of pure abandon and pulsation. To be lost in the moment as one thick hard cock slides into my wet little cunt, one more into my tight pink hole, yet another through my lips into my hot eager mouth, two others enveloped in my excited hands. To be lost as we devour and consume, languid then insistent tongues tasting, drinking, hands and fingers stroking, mauling, taking, fucking. To be lost in the sounds of voracious desire, the sighs, the moans, the whimpers, the groans. To be lost in the frenzied, primal union of bodies, juices, sweat, saliva and come.

To be lost is surely to be found.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Present Tense

This is all there is. This is all that matters. His body, his words, his carnal desire.

And his hot rumbling voice pleading me to use him up while detailing the countless ways I will be his dirty little fucktoy.

Monday, December 28, 2009

E-male

It begins with an innocent double click. With the attachment finally open, her eyes grow wide, mouth drops open, the space between her legs begins to thump.

Forgetting the public surroundings, she stares unashamedly at the picture-filled screen, moving in as close as she can before the photograph disappears into a mass of coloured pixels.

Standing by the rumpled bed they had marked only a few hours earlier, he is wearing the suit that always makes her swoon. Charcoal single-breasted jacket, crisp white shirt, flat front trousers, heavy leather belt, all topped off with his unmistakably cheeky grin.

And his big strong hand around his growling angry cock.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

You

You. Dark hair, chocolate eyes, six foot two. You.

I’ve seen you glancing, glimpsing, looking. I’ve seen you watching, stare unflinching, gaze undressing.

I’ve seen the way your eyes consume my curves, eat up my form. I’ve seen the way they run along my collarbone, around the swell of my breasts, hugging my hips, devouring my legs, my arse, my purring little puss.

I’ve seen the way you shift as I enter the room, the way you lick your lips. I’ve seen the way you teasingly scratch your stomach, fingers trailing down the line of fuzz that leads to the manly musk below.

I’ve seen you too. I’ve noticed you also.

Now what do you plan to do about it?

Friday, December 18, 2009

Gesture of One

One simple gesture. One enticing move. One brush of his fingers across his stubbled cheek. One glide of his hand along the curve of a neck. One insistent touch from his chest to his hip. One hand resting short of his visibly throbbing sex.

One simple reaction. One inviting response. One rush of heat, one quickening pulse. One sharp breath freed from blushing parted lips. One teasing stroke of her sweet heaving breasts. One aching dewy place as she impatiently looks on.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

The In-between

There is a time, a space, a fissure, between darkness and light, sleep and waking, dreams and consciousness, where he comes to me.

He steps out of my sleepy imaginings, his phantom form made material, filling the place beside me. The bed sinks under his weight, the pillow rustles with the drop of his head. His heat overwhelms the white expanse on which I rest.

Just as I stir threatening to wake, he moves in to me. His body greets my soft nakedness, his hands play with my curls, his lips brush along my freckly back.

Filled with the pleasure of his simple touch, I then move in to him. Enveloped in his arms, his heartbeat and breath mingling with my own, I relish the sensation of his silky wrapped hardness against my skin.

But as the light beams through and my eyes begin to register the day, the spell is broken and I am alone once more. While he fades into the glow, I lie in bed hoping he will appear to me again with the breaking of another dawn.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Blush

Taking advantage of her momentary solitude, she heads to the mirror. The reflective glass frames a rising blush on the creamy cheeks at the base of her arching back. Lightly stroking the newly tender skin, her fingers find the just visible outline of his hand as a small smile forms on her lips.

Monday, December 14, 2009

Devour

Once she straddles his thighs, he relinquishes all control. Her hand slides down his neck resting at the nape, drawing him in to her heated breath as she begins to tease herself with his thick and almost painfully swollen cock.

Rising up over him, she opens her plump lips to accept his glistening head. And here she pauses. Looking him squarely in the eyes and covering his groaning mouth, she lowers and squeezes her little wet cunt until she has swallowed him all up.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Touch

He moves up silently behind her, his presence at first a suggestion rather than a certainty.

She closes her eyes and excitedly exhales in anticipation of his touch. One finger languidly traces the strip of her freshly showered skin peeking out from between her girlish pink knickers and lilac tank.

Legs now invitingly parted, she stands eagerly awaiting the next touch.

When she least expects it that same finger hooks and twists itself so tightly into the right side of the waistband her sensitive clit begins to purr.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Need

Standing there, I see him gradually being overtaken by it. I can see it, feel it, crawling through his flesh, rising up to his skin. I can smell it coming off his body.

Suddenly against me, he tries to explain. This is what he has become, he whispers closely, fingertips grazing my neck. This is what he has become against his will, against the reasoning part of his mind. There is nothing but the hunger, the desire, the need.

It is a need, he says gently leaning me into the wall with his overwhelming frame. It is a need and not a want or a wish or a whim that might be pushed down or away. It can not, will not, be replaced or displaced.

It will not leave him, it will not leave him be. The need transforms, changes, alters beyond all recognition, his mouth murmurs, the tempting weight of his body pressed firmly into mine. As evidentiary proof he places my hand on his rapidly beating chest, carefully guiding it down his stomach to the growing swell below. Pulsing through the fabric prison, he is, at once, hunter and prey, willing victim and rebellious target, give and take.

And how he wants to give and take, he tells me, thumb tracing over my moist and parted lips. Give and take, take and give, now easing my willing legs apart with his own. Take, take, take, his tongue exploring me, consuming me. Give, give, give, grinding his hips slowly, rhythmically.

I need to feel, he breathes hoarsely, my small breasts engulfed by inquisitive hands. Running his generous hardness along my aching sex, he shows me the need to feel the flesh and heat of another.

Softness and wetness urge him on as his hands coil round my creamy thighs to cup a plump and eager mons. My softness, my wetness are his needs. I oblige on both counts as his fingers lightly dance along the sheen and gracefully work their way in.

I need to feel and smell and taste you with everything I am. Breathing hard, our pleasure winding, building, I set him free. Fingers circle his swollen glistening head before my hand works his throbbing length. Urgent teeth rip through foil, his rigid cock swiftly encased in a shiny rubber sheath.

As we stand there against the wall, pressed into each other, needing more, needing it all, I finally break. Now breathing, spoken, embodied, it overpowers me. It reaches out of me, for me. For him. I need you, I need you, I need you inside me, it makes me beg, plead, moan.

Hungrily, I slide my juices along his erect shaft placing him at my slick entry. Greedily, he feeds his thickness into my tight wet cunt as we groan simultaneously. 

But before we begin, before we begin moving, thrusting, slapping, fucking, moaning, gasping, grunting, screaming, before we ravenously paw at each other’s flesh forcing in more, more, more, before I demand he fucks me harder, harder, fuck me harder, before we can barely hold ourselves back waiting to hear the sweet cries of come for me, come for me, come all over me, come inside me, before we call out to one another when we finally break, before the voracious beginning and the sated end, we stand perfectly silent and still.

We stand joined together against the wall clutching, throbbing, vibrating, seeing each other, seeing into each other, breathing in one another, breathing as one, skin on skin, skin becoming skin. We stand joined together in a primal, awakening rush.

We stand merged together finally understanding the force of this need. And at this moment it is the only thing that truly matters.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Hunger II

Gnawing, growling, insatiable. It grips me, possesses me in the dead of night. Night after night it takes me by the hand, urging me on to that sweet release. Body spent, drained, gives out as it falls into a restless sleep.

As always it is there on the margins, in the periphery, watching and waiting to take me once again as the morning dawns.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Feast

The table has been laid for a different form of dining. One lone setting has been placed at the head of the long table where he sits awaiting her arrival in the room’s warm glow.

She announces her presence with the glide of the door over the plush carpet. He breathes in sharply as his gaze roams over her fair form. On this night she is dressed in little else than an ivory lace balconette bra and matching lace topped stockings.

Upon her in a matter of a few strides, eyes bright and hungry, he scoops her up and walks her over to the table, delicately placing her naked bottom onto a red velvet cushion. Weaving one hand through her locks while the other sweeps along her curves to the small of her back, he overwhelms her eager mouth with his passionate kiss. 

Taking his place, he lays her out and begins to trace lazy circles inside her thighs. Edging closer to fully receive the sweet scent, his lips lightly brush her plump sex. Unable to resist any longer, he dots the slick excited flesh with a series of soft butterfly kisses as a throaty moan emerges from deep within her slight body.

Smiling wickedly in the knowledge this is the first of many courses, he lowers his greedy mouth and luxuriates in the pure indulgence of her creamy feast.

Friday, December 4, 2009

When the Moon is Full

Listening to Billie Holiday wishing on her own, I wished on the blood red moon hanging in that September sky.

I wished for your health, for your recovery, for the continuation of a life barely lived. I wished I could sacrifice something of me, something of my own life for you.

Looking out at the moon as it glows on this cloudless night, there is only you in my heart and my head. And these small, inadequate and incompetent words. Words that can not possibly tell how much we miss you, how much we miss our gorgeous musical boy, especially when the moon is full.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Unrealized

Time shifts, space bends, sound drains away. Suspended in slow motion, their each step an open possibility.

Shameless lust, unconcealed desire. Fixed, dilated stares, small, flirtatious smiles. Brazenly undressing one another as they brush by.

Horn blares, moment shattered. Lost in an instant, both swallowed up by the city crowd.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Songbird

Bundled in his arms as the light faded low, he sang to me. Softly, sensuously.

Soon after he sang into me, breathing the lyrics into my skin, humming the tune into my flesh, as his lips trailed down, down, down my fair body.