June 2008
33 posts
"slut" i said, as I looked down at her...
“only for you,” she replied, returning my gaze with a smile.
I had one hand over her mouth
as two fingers of my other hand slowly made their way inside her, despite the fact that the only sound she made was the deep gutteral moan of pleasure.
the thin fabric of her swimsuit
on the back of my neck, doing little to stop the sense of what was covered, made the carefree game of volleyball in the lake a veneer for the increasingly desperate need to feel her under me, rather than astride my shoulders
she had been tense
as i tied the knot securing her wrist to the bedpost, as i pulled her foot to the corner of the mattress, as i tightened the rope around her ankle, but then, as i wrapped the blindfold over her eyes, the resistance dissipated and she absolutely relaxed.
i absolutely understand
the sense of release, the climax and denouement after coming inside her, but i don’t get the need to stop if she hasn’t come - surely it still feels good, surely sex is a joy shared, surely you stay hard, keep going… who says women are the only ones who get to come twice ?
It was a warm and hazy Sunday at about 3, when we settled on the couch, having been out to brunch with friends. she picked up the crossword from the table and lay her head on my lap. I picked up Joseph O’Neill’s “Netherland” and started where I had left off that morning, but almost absently flicked the television on at the same time, to see the yankees playing the royals,...
she drew the long, sheer, black dress over her...
slowly revealing her naked form, and there was a moment when her body was exposed, but her head was covered, her arms tangled in sleeves, and she seemed a little lost, a little disoriented, slightly trapped, and i said “stop, i want you like this”
no, like this, she said
as she drew a breath, steeled herself and flung the lash over her shoulder in what seemed a well practiced motion and then released a sigh of relief as the tendrils made a sickening slapping sound and left their imprint on her tail.
ebb and flow
it’s funny how The Need can ebb and flow, how lust can seem like an absolute imperative at times and then an odd curiosity which should be indulged at others. It would seem that over the past week, The Need has been strong, yet today work has created an ebb. Soon, I am sure, the work will subside and lust will flow again… actually, just thinking about it, I can feel the stirring of...
as i watched her open her mouth
to accede to the gentle pressure of his hands on the back of her head, to allow his cock past her lips, i both hated her and wanted to protect her, i wanted to defile her and sanctify her, i felt the pang of jealousy and the disgust of revulsion. The result was that my grip on her hips tightened, I dug my nails into her flesh, as i pulled her back onto my phallus, and she became the pawn in our...
now
damn but I need to feel it….now…. the curve of your jaw, the nape of your neck under my light touch, the soft, firm malleability of your breast, the surprisingly hard nipple between my thumb and forefinger, the feigned resistance as one of my hands grips two of yours above your head, the rise of your stomach and arc of your waist as you writhe and sprawl, the sight of you tied to the...
I do not understand this dichotomy -
In reality, I find it hard to be filled with lust for someone who I treat with a lack of respect, a lack of humanity. I need to envisage tenderness, compassion, to be attracted to another person. I recognize that my happiest moments have been spent in a state of simpatico with a woman, a person I love, desire and respect. yet I spent yesterday walking the city seeing nothing but flesh - breasts...
ode to a summer storm
I’d like to feel with you the absolute abandon I do when running through a summer storm. your body as close to mine as the warm wet tshirt clinging to my skin; your legs entwined with mine like the raggedy shorts around my crotch - not stricture, but playful tug and pull. i’d like to feel the juice of summer running down my face, falling into my mouth, into my wide open smile....
May 2008
7 posts
I am addicted to seeing that moment
in a woman’s eyes when she commits; to being naked in front of you, revealing herself, spreading her legs, to wanting, to knowing that you will be inside her…
she bit me...
and it was the moment that i stopped being careful, and wallowed exuberantly in the joy of pushing, spreading, pulling hair, biting, scratching, penetrating…
...i position you on all fours
your knees spread, everything spread, delighted at the degree to which you are agape, each feminine characteristic - downward arched back, long hair spilling, narrow waist, splayed hips, puckered anus, tufts of hair, wet, pink flesh - seemingly exaggerated in this pose. that delicious moment when tightness is first felt, when each nerve for the first time comes into contact with that lubricious...
the sequence of events felt entirely natural
as she fell backwards, laughing, onto the bed, and I followed her, my left leg between hers, my right hand clasping both of hers above her head
there are identifiable moments
which define relationships. In this case, the defining moment was when that white canvas presented too tempting a target, and i left the red imprint of my hand on its zaftig expanse, and you merely looked back and smiled at me.
