Eyes closed, fantasy on

I was sprawled in a t-shirt and panties on the couch when you came in. My day had been long, and all I wanted was some time without responsibilities or demands. Mind off. I smelled the smoke, alcohol, and sweat from where I was lunging; raising an eyebrow but keeping my mouth shut, I smirked. You looked delicious. Like sex on legs. I knew better than to distract you with non-sense when you came home from work late at night in this state. I kept my eyes on the TV show that hadn’t kept my attention at all, but it had kept me company when you were at work. I licked my lips. Your mere presence did things to me.

You shrugged out of your jacket and hung it on the back of a chair before you flopped down next to me on the couch, yawning loudly. Our thighs were touching, and your presence became more than you sitting next to me. I could feel you around me, invading my mind, and the need to feel you in me rose.

You took the remote control and muted the TV. I looked at you, not sure about your expectations. Your eyes scrutinized me, stripping me as you took in my sight. I was not presentable anymore – I was lazy and enjoying my night on my own. Dressed in a bare minimum and with my hair in disarray, I became aware of how unattractive I looked. In a weak attempt to straighten my appearance, I ran my hands through my hair, closed my legs, and tried to find another position, arranging my limbs differently. You chuckled, and hooking your arms under my knees; you pulled me down on the couch and closer to your wanting body – without question not warning.

I saw it in your eyes, the familiar heat. And I knew I was lost. I was drowning in the black depth of your eyes. Nothing could prevent the inevitable.

You were everywhere. One moment we sat on the couch, the next your body covered mine. My clothes were removed with an urgency that left no place for doubt – you wanted to make me cum. And I had no other choice than to endure your sweet torture.

You pulled your belt from your jeans and tied my hands together. Growling, you took my mouth with yours. There was no finesse, no tenderness. I was your toy.

Your tongue began a trail down my heated skin. And I let it happen. Too wrapped up in past memories – past climaxes; the anticipation aroused me more than your demanding kisses or your calloused hands did.

Your fingers found my soaking wet sex and entered me with ease. I was ready for you, willing you to love me. You hit that one spot inside of me that made my breath hitch and my back arch. Gasping, my body tried to suck you in, to coax more pleasure from you. But you denied it. At your mercy, I was begging, pleading… The heat. The tingle. The building orgasm that was consuming me, and yet, it was just out of reach. It was just a flick of your tongue away. I was sweating; my hands tried to claw at something, anything within reach, but your belt around my wrists – the restraint prevented it. And it frustrated me.

“Please, ” I panted. Your tongue replaced your fingers, lapping at my pussy, your hands squeezed my breasts. The wave of pleasure made goosebumps rise all over my body. And I gave in. I voiced my imminent release, spurring you on, praising you, cursing, moaning, growling, asking you to allow me some release.

Relentless, you kept sucking and kissing and licking me. Everything in me tensed, my cunt quivered, my clit couldn’t take the onslaught of your tongue anymore, and I exploded. My back arched, my knees pulled back… Throbbing, shaking – I came for you. Blinded by pleasure, I couldn’t see, I couldn’t think. I wasn’t sure if I was still existing or if I had burst into fragments of myself.

My orgasm was endless, and you didn’t let go. I came, again and again, unable to catch my breath, unable to pull myself together.

Under you, I came undone. Under your thumb, I lost control. And while I was still recovering from one, two, many climaxes, you filled me with your cock.

Kissing me, I tasted myself on your tongue. I wrapped my legs around your hips, urging you to move faster. I couldn’t decide what was more intoxicating: your sweat, our sex, the silent noise around us… It didn’t matter, all that mattered was the hard and fast in and out and the sounds our bodies made.

I was made to please you. And I came again, like a shock wave, I took you with me. I felt the spasms in me, and I opened my eyes just in time to see the pure you. There were no masks, no hiding, just the truth about you.

We became one. You in me. You my future. And all I wanted was to love you. Fragile. Vulnerable. Craving you. Submitting to you.

You released the restraints around my wrists, and I fell back against the couch again. Boneless. You followed me. The weight of your spent body crushed me, but I knew you needed this. I was not sure if you were sobbing or chuckling with your face buried against my neck, but I held you close. Our skins dried and were stuck together – yes, we were one. Pure. My hands roamed up and down your back. “I got you, ” I whispered.

Exhausted, we made our way to the bathroom to clean up. I loved dominating quickies like the one we had just shared. And I loved you because whenever we were together, you sent me to heaven, and when we were apart, I was in hell. đź’ś

It started with a kiss

Falling into the depth of your green eyes; surrendering to the touch of your skin against mine; ecstasy – throbbing flesh; quivering flesh. The heat, the moans, arched backs. I inhale the essence of our love pouring out of every cell, crannies, nooks, and cracks.

You kissed the rain out of my head and the words out of my mouth.

You sucked the air right out of me and gave me a life’s breath.

You took nothing and made it our everything.

Every touch awakens me from my melancholy haze. Lost all sense of time; nights turn into days. The heavy scent of our lust engulfs us – shields us from the world. More. I want more of you in me. Harder, faster – strangled cries; and you are falling into the depth of my brown eyes.

my brightest star

Stolen kisses,
lots of them
A thousand misses
Again and again.

Cover my bruised heart
With sinful heat
Allow us a new start
You can take the lead.

The rhythm guides our moves
Undulating, thrusting;
The lovers’ groove
Never everlasting.

A blanket of sweat
Covers you and me
Allow me that;
Mark me with your seed.

Oh how I crave your touch
The blissful release
It doesn’t take too much
You get me there, with ease.

You between my thighs
You bring me peace
Never felt a higher high
Let me come, please.

I feel you inside
No protection at all
My eyes water with pride
As I suffer the final fall.

Some consider us a sin
But you are the best part of me
Completing me from within,
The one who opened my eyes to see.

I give myself to you
Heart, mind and soul
Give me yourself too
And I will fill your holes.

This is your song
You know who you are.
I haven’t known you for very long
But you are my brightest star.

*throwback* cold coffee

I pushed the door open with my foot, startling you. Your eyes were filled with sleep; mine were full of mischief. I came to your room with the intention to wake you up with the smell of coffee, but seeing you like this; naked, hard, embarrassed; it did things to me.

You were a guest in my house — a friend. The polite thing would have been to apologise and leave. But I couldn’t. I was hungry. Starving. And not for food. You looked at your erection, then at me. I licked my lips and tried to find a safe place for that cup of coffee in my hand.

You sat up and reached for the sheets to cover yourself. I shook my head. “Don’t, ” I croaked. You rose an eyebrow, probably intensely aware of the situation too. I kept my eyes on you, avoiding to see myself ungracefully join you on the mattress through the mirror on the wall.

“Hi, ” you said as if you were seeing me for the first time. Your hand was already in my hair, pulling my head; my lips, to yours.

Outside, rain was joining the wind that had been up all night. Inside, we were joining too.

Everything fit. Profoundly. Almost overwhelmingly. The natural flow of things didn’t take us back. It didn’t leave room for doubts or vanities. Every touch meant something. Every time I felt your tongue on my heated skin, it felt as if I was becoming a part of you. Your hands explored my body as if they had never done anything else. The weight of you on my tongue was exactly right, and your taste made me swallow you as often as I could. I was drowning in our lust.

When you finally penetrated me, it only took a moment before the world exploded for me. Shivering, sweating, swearing, I encouraged you to keep moving. But you didn’t. You lay on top of me; your hands were caressing my hair, your eyes were searching my face for something that I couldn’t pretend wasn’t there. A smile appeared on your lips. Proud of yourself and how you had undone me, you kissed me. You were pulsating inside of me, but not moving. Heavenly torture. I begged for more, gyrated my hips underneath you, but you were stubborn. And too close to be consumed by our lust too.

Two micro moves later, you stopped breathing. Your sweat was dripping down on me from the tip of your nose; your eyes were closed. A strangled noise left your lips just before you started to breathe again.

I had seen you. I had felt you. And it left me breathless; and not only because your full weight was on my body now. The beauty and surprise of us in this situation was overwhelming. You kissed my temple and rolled off me with a loud groan and a chuckle. Your arm covered your eyes, and your hand was running up and down your stomach. The most handsome man who I had ever been with.

I put my head on your chest, your heartbeat sang a song for me, while I retraced the pattern of the tattoos on your skin. Your eyes were filled with sleep again. I covered us with the crumbled sheet, making sure that the wet spot we left was covering me and not you.

In a while, I would worry about the meaning of it all, but right then I decided to go with the flow and let it happen.

Only the coffee had grown cold.

Sweet taboo

Take off All your clothes, you ordered. There was not an ounce of doubt; not a flash of hesitation, I complied. You knew I was your puppet, and we both enjoyed it. I stripped, trying to be sensual, but being my clumsy self instead. Of course, I couldn’t get my skinny jeans off my feet. Of course, the hooks of my bra got caught in my hair. Of course, I blushed and wished I hadn’t started this at all. My confidence was hanging on a thinning threat; any moment now, the wrong word – or what I interpreted as the wrong word, would make me run.

Look at me! Another order. I wasn’t submissive, but your voice and the mood we had created in our sanctuary made me obey. I looked at you, and you were smiling. I could see that even though my performance had been underwhelming, your body was reacting to me as much as I was reacting to yours.

You got up from your chair. Large steps. Warm hands. Shivers. Kisses. Nibbles. Don’t move! I didn’t dare to move. I almost forgot how to breathe. I was your prey. You were the predator. You devoured me, and it was the most enjoyable torture I ever endured, entirely at your mercy — flames of lust licking at our souls until they were sticky and we were unable to break apart.

Sweetest taboo. Again and again. We were made of passionate desire; feeding off each other, until it became too much to bear and our hearts exploded; our souls imploded, and our remnants were scattered; blown in the wind — eternal stars on the night sky.

cold coffee

I pushed the door open with my foot, startling you. Your eyes were filled with sleep; mine were full of mischief. I came to your room with the intention to wake you up with the smell of coffee, but seeing you like this; naked, hard, embarrassed; it did things to me.

You were a guest in my house. A friend. The polite thing would have been to apologise and leave. But I couldn’t. I was hungry. Starving. And not for food. You looked at your erection, then at me. I licked my lips and tried to find a safe place for that cup of coffee in my hand.

You sat up and reached for the sheets to cover yourself. I shook my head. “Don’t, ” I croaked. You rose an eyebrow, probably intensely aware of the situation too. I kept my eyes on you, avoiding to see myself ungracefully join you on the mattress through the mirror on the wall.

“Hi, ” you said as if you were seeing me for the first time. Your hand was already in my hair, pulling my head; my lips, to yours.

Outside, rain was joining the wind that had been up all night. Inside, we were joining too.

Everything fit. Profoundly. Almost overwhelmingly. The natural flow of things didn’t take us aback. It didn’t leave room for doubts or vanities. Every touch meant something. Every time I felt your tongue on my heated skin, it felt as if I was becoming a part of you. Your hands explored my body as if they had never done anything else. The weight of you on my tongue was exactly right, and your taste made me swallow you as often as I could. I was drowning in our lust.

When you finally penetrated me, it only took a moment before the world exploded for me. Shivering, sweating, swearing, I encouraged you to keep moving. But you didn’t. You lay on top of me; your hands were caressing my hair, your eyes were searching my face for something that I couldn’t pretend wasn’t there. A smile appeared on your lips. Proud of yourself and how you had undone me, you kissed me. You were pulsating inside of me, but not moving. Heavenly torture. I begged for more, gyrated my hips underneath you, but you were stubborn. And too close to be consumed by our lust too.

Two micro moves later, you stopped breathing. Your sweat was dripping down on me from the tip of your nose; your eyes were closed. A strangled noise left your lips just before you started to breathe again.

I had seen you. I had felt you. And it left me breathless; and not only because your full weight was on my body now. The beauty and surprise of us in this situation was overwhelming. You kissed my temple and rolled off me with a loud groan and a chuckle. Your arm covered your eyes, and your hand was running up and down your stomach. The most handsome man who I had ever been with.

I put my head on your chest, your heartbeat sang a song for me, while I retraced the pattern of the tattoos on your skin. Your eyes were filled with sleep again. I covered us with the crumbled sheet, making sure that the wet spot we left was covering me and not you.

In a while, I would worry about the meaning of it all, but right then I decided to go with the flow and let it happen.

Only the coffee had grown cold.

Heatwave – mature content

The heat, it got to her. She had always had a healthy sex-drive, but this here right now was a lot, even for her standards. She felt insatiable. Always in the mood.

Naked as she was, she let the light breeze, that found a way into her bedroom, caress her skin. It was as if her lover was gently tracing her nooks and folds and crannies with his tongue. She closed her eyes and arched her back. This felt good. Her hands knew where to go on their own. No explanation needed. One hand massaged her breast and played with her nipples, while the other hand traveled south. Legs spread wide, she didn’t waste time. Too good. She was wet. Not moist; no, dripping wet. The sound her body made as her fingers entered her spurred her on. She needed it. Right then. Right there. The smell of her own sex engulfed her and laid a thin veil over her senses, blocking out her environment. Sweat was covering her; droplets rolling down and pooling between her breasts. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue moaning deep within her throat. Almost there. She didn’t take her time, didn’t prolong the explosion that was at the tips of her fingers. Her legs were shaking. Ragged breath. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes were closed. More. More. More of this. Her hips moved on their own accord, trying to find more friction. The tingling that had started inside of her was spreading fast. She threw her head back with another moan. Her back was arched, her hair was drenched in sweat. Pulling her legs back to reach more; to enter herself deeper. It was there, she felt the wave coming. Ready to let her lose her mind.

Another touch startled her. Not her own hands. They ruined her orgasm. Calloused, male hands. Asking for permission to continue what she had started. She took her hand from her pussy, tasting her own lust with a sly grin. Eyes meeting eyes. Dilated pupils didn’t hide their carnal desires. The sensation of his hands on her was too much to bear. He knew how to push her buttons. He knew exactly how to read her body. What had started slow and casual was building up again. She was biting her hand to keep herself from screaming out her lust, but he didn’t allow it. He demanded to hear her. And there it was. The right touch. The right pressure. Too fast. Too soon. Her entire body tensed. She stopped breathing. And the heat swallowed her from within. Sensitive to his touch, she tried to move away, but he was not done. The night was young and it was too hot to sleep anyway…

Throwback poetry…

Let’s pull the sheets up over our heads…
Let me lick the sweat off your skin…
Let your hands memorize my nooks and folds and crannies…
Let’s make love hard and fast and slow and sensual…
Let us forget that there is a world outside…
… how about that?

playing with fire

She is a thing of beauty. As I cradle her head in my hands, her blond hair lies in waves on the pristine white pillow that supports her. He eyes are closed and the long lashes are kissing her rosy cheeks. Her lips are parted slightly and I feel her moan against my neck rather than hearing it. Gooseflesh adorns her pale skin. Sweat leads a trail down to the center of her breasts. I kiss those fleshy orbs, tease the dark nipples, just to illicit one more of those wanton moans out of her throat. What a beauty she is. One of a kind. A real thing of beauty. I kiss her neck, bite her playfully just behind her ear and lick that same spot with my flattened tongue. Her legs sneak around my hips. I know what she wants. She is close. I can feel the pulsing of her blood. I am buried inside her heat. Oh the agonizing joy. It’s torturing to bring her so much joy. She pulls me down to her and our lips meet for a kiss. Her eyes are wide open, seemingly searching for something in mine. Is she searching for the truth? The one that I am not accepting? I can’t deal with these thoughts. Not now. Go away. I don’t want you. Not moments before I fall off the cliff. I am not sure for how long I can hold back with her. It is in her moans and in her scent. It is in the way she feels around me and the way she tastes. It is overwhelming. She is overwhelming. And I am losing control. Everything inside me is becoming tense. I should stop. I should pull out. But I can’t. I carry death inside of me. There is a real chance that I am sharing it with her if I don’t stop. “Don’t stop! Don’t ever stop!” Her words are slurred. Drunk with lust. Her breathing changes. Her moans are more constant. “Let me cum inside of you,” I beg. I don’t know why I asked, but she consents. And I give in. I release myself into her quivering body. Jet after jet of my poison is now coating her insides. I marked her for life. I made her mine. I shouldn’t feel this ecstatic, but I do. “You’re mine now,” I growl. She giggles. “Forever,” I add and pull out. I feel naked without her skin covering me. “You’re mine now,” she echoes my words. I can’t help but smile. If she only knew.
*
He’s perfect for me. If he only knew that I marked him for life. His lust, my lust. I couldn’t let him stop. It has been such a long time since a man touched me the way he did. He is mine now. Maybe he will hate me once he’ll find out. Maybe he’ll love me even more. “Forever,” I add with a smile. I am going to do everything I can to keep him in my life. But, if he only knew.

When two become one

“I had these ideas about you. None of them are true…”
“Like?”
“Well… You’re a smoker.”
“Been one for 30 years. What else?”
“You’re smaller than I expected”

*He groans, rolls his eyes and puts his cigarette out with the heel of his sneaker. She’s embarrassed and nervous, trying to find words to say that aren’t offending or insulting in this awkward situation.

“Go on…”
“You are much more handsome than on your pictures.”

*He smiles. She’s back on track.

“What else?”
“I said “no” when you asked about being intimate on our first date. I meant “yes”.”

*The admission leaves her timid and waiting for rejection. She puts a lock of hair behind her ear. It jumps right back to where it was. He stands straighter, anticipating what will be happening next.

“I can’t see how this has anything to do with the way you imagined me to be”

“I judged you. I don’t know you.”

*It’s almost an apology. Almost.

“We spoke on the phone for two years.”
“I know.”
“You know exactly who I am. Maybe not my mannerisms or my daily habits. You know the deeper me. You know me better than anyone else.”

*It’s flattering to hear these words, but she is sceptical. Does he really tell the truth or is this his way of getting what he wants? It doesn’t matter. Who cares? She gives in. No reason to fight the feelings she doesn’t want to fight.

“You had me with that smile, moments before you said hello.”
“Two years ago I told you that I would never fall in love with you and that I only want sex from you. I lied.”

*She blushes and smiles at his feet. She still doesn’t know what he sees in her; she is short and overweight; and he could have every girl he wants.

“Come here… We don’t have a lot of time. Let’s make the best of it.”

*She nods. Their eyes are locked and their breaths mingle, moments before their lips touch. Her heart races and her knees feel weak. Electricity. He tastes of cold smoke and she can feel his smile on her lips. His hands find an immediate way under her shirt. The heat of his skin on her back leaves imprints on her soul that she can never wash off. She needs more of him. All of him. As much as he is willing to give. If he lets her in, she will submit to him, surrender to his needs. She will become his everything. With an urgency, they find the bed behind them. Clothes are quickly disposed of. There is no time to waste. Not even to appreciate the nakedness of the other. He used to ask her to tell him that she loves him. For the first time, these words leave her lips without being a lie, just as he enters her and fills her in a way she hasn’t felt in years. Completion. This encounter is more than she ever expected it to be. It is less too. Two lonely humans giving in to their primal urges after building up to this moment for more than two years. Everything they ever said, everything they ever wrote; every picture they ever shared – everything led to this moment. The moment when two become one. And although everything that is happening right there is ordinary, nothing about it is, in fact, ordinary. Moans, sweat, the scent of sex, the creaking of the bed. Two people who stopped thinking. Only existing. Become one.