My veins ache

To my fingertips,


Robbing me of sense.

Come, fill me,

Inject your sex.

Intense and wondrous

Wet, make me whole.

Sinful Sunday
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How You Care For Me

I got nothin, nothin, cold and rain soaked, but a warm need for you. Meet me at the door with your warm lips and towel soft. Warm my hands with your moist breath. Peel my layers away, kissing and drying my damp skin as you peel. Lead me by the hand to our bed. When I am safe between the sheets, peel your own layers. Take care to meet my eyes as your breasts slide out of your bra, when you roll your panties down. I’ve made a place for you here, beside me. Come, and wrap your warm body around me. I love how the heat of your breath, your mouth on my mouth, warms my whole body. As the heat of our naked skin together makes our bellies slippery, I slide my mouth down your tender throat. I whisper, “now, what can I do for you.” You meet my eyes, smile, then slide my warmed fingers over your vulva.

A Peaceful Room

I write desperate sex.
Hungry and urgent
With no recourse
But to fuck.
It’s dirty and rough,
Terse and fractured,
Filling a dark need.

Yesterday I was still. Just for a moment. But long enough to let the shaking maple leaves lull me. The leaves were on the little trees planted in the brown circles, lined up in a row. The wall of windows illuminated me, and the green chair that held me, as I let my thoughts unwind. When the needs of the day had passed. When my frustration had passed. When my desperation had passed. And when I let go of my lust. I was at peace.

I closed my eyes but the sun shone through. I saw a bright room. A bed, white and soft and clean. I saw her, smiling slightly.

Imagine touching someone while at peace.
Imagine kissing in a bright, and clean, and silent room.
Imagine how tender your caresses would be if the softest sound pierced the silence.
Imagine how slowly you could slide your hand down their spine and over their bottom.
Imagine how delightful it would be to surround and be surrounded by someone.
Imagine staring sweetly into their eyes before a deep and sensuous kiss.
Imagine resolving that kiss to find their eyes still closed, moist lips parted, and that little bit of wet tongue waiting for another kiss, which you must, must, must give.

Shady Lady: Part 2

Whitney knelt on the bed next to Manolo and slowly ran her finger around his areola.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” said Whitney.
“You sat on my face and you weren’t expecting me to lick you?” asked Manny.
“No, I, I knew it would make you hot. I need you hot. I didn’t expect you to take care of me so, so well.”
“I love,” bouncing his eyebrows, “doing it.”
“I know you do,” she smiled.
Whitney moved her finger to his other nipple.
“It’s hard for you, isn’t it, to let go?”
“I’m no good at submission.”
“It’s not submission, baby. It’s relaxation. It’s accepting pleasure and just, just enjoying it without the thought of what, you know, you’re gonna do to me when I release you.”
“I like making you feel good.”
“See, that’s what I want to do to you. I want to make you feel so good,” she said. “Can you try baby. Can you try to relax for me and let me take care of you?”
“Ok,” he nodded.
“Well good!” she said perking up, “cause I’m going to torture your ass.”
Manny laughed. Whitney slid a blindfold over his eyes.
“Relax baby,” she breathed in his ear, “I’m gonna make you feel real good.”
Manolo shivered when Whitney’s lips brushed his ear. Her voice made his scalp tingle. Her soft lips slid from his ear, along his jaw, then dropped on his throat. He squirmed when he felt the wetness of her flicking tongue. She mouthed her way to his clavicle, where she sucked on his bones. He moaned and exposed more of his throat. She pounced on his tender skin, sucking the salt she found.
Whitney’s body slid atop his, never parting. Her breasts, silken nipples, soothed his pulsing skin as he swelled beneath her. Manolo’s body undulated at her touch. Waxing to meet the wet insistent suck of her mouth. Waning when racked by the rapturous pleasure that her hands viciously plied.
When, and only when, he pleaded, did her mouth meet his glistening cock. Then with her adept tongue, she slayed his tumultuous erection. Gulping hungrily as his heat filled her belly.

Soft Points Sliding

Press your bare chest to mine.

Kiss me with those sleepy lips

Until your nipples tighten between us.

Then please, please slide your soft points

Down my torso, my trunk, my thighs

And when my penis passes between your silky breasts

Please press yourself around me 

So you will feel the warmth I hold for you.

The Nuzzle

Orgasms are great. Bucking breathy moments moaned make me high.  But give me the nuzzle. Give me that gentle time of silence and stillness and the scent of a woman ripening with every kiss.  Bury my face in the fragrant forest between her thighs. I want to breathe nothing but warm spice, sliding my nose through her hair.

The heat of my breath belies the softness of my lips kissing ever closer, ever closer.  Her water wets my deliberate lip rising on the ridge of her dewy labia.  Saline and fresh, like the sea, her scent has deepened. My lips have drifted down and rising again I spread, sucking what water wells on my tongue. Tenderly, I curl my tongue around her roused clitoris and draw her into my hot and hungry mouth.

Melting In Deliberate Sensual Repose

Kiss me with your lips parted.

Your tongue soft and warm waiting

To brush the lip that slips inside.

Sucking so softly on your upper lip

I release without a hissing sound

Sliding my tongue tip atop yours.

Soft lips and soft tongues merging,

Melting in deliberate sensual repose

Slowly drawing your moistened lips

Into my mouth to tenderly suck.

Slow Fingertips On Soft Skin

Fotolia/Chris Tefme
Fotolia/Chris Tefme

The slow fingertips of one hand are sliding down your spine. Each tip is connecting to your soft skin with varied pressure, at varied points as they move toward your buttocks. They never reach your buttocks, choosing instead to slide over your hips. The other hand of slow fingertips is now sliding in unison from your hips, up your tender sides, then up further. Meeting at your clavicle, a single fingertip from each hand is stroking down that ticklish bone, connecting in the soft hollow of your throat. Both hands spread, like wide brushes, they draw down your décolletage until the tips are touching more flesh than bone. The hands cup and follow the soft curve of your breasts, slipping underneath and up, between. The fingertips followed the same path back, sliding up to cover your breasts. Your nipples feel hard against the soft palms. You press yourself into the palms, sliding your own hands up to cover and squeeze. The slow fingers drift from your embrace and slide down your abdomen, then around your hips. Around and down the curve of your buttocks. The fingers stiffen, scraping their nails up your buttocks, up your back. Then plunging, the fingernails scrape over your hips and down the front of your thighs. A knee nudges your legs apart without much effort. One hand of slow fingertips is slipping around your side, followed by an arm that pulls you close, pressing their skin to yours. Tender teeth are nibbling the edge of your ear to your lobe as the other hand slides higher and higher up your inner thigh. The slow fingers are softly touching the tips of your pubic hair, tickling and teasing. The hand is softly fingering the shape and folds of your swelling labia. When a drop of moisture wets the longest finger, it follows the moisture to the source, sliding deep inside your hot wet center. The fingertips draw your moisture up, spreading your lips, spreading your slick to your clit. You press against the fingers and they press back. And slowly, they begin to rub you. Sometimes skittering down your labia, digging into and drawing more moisture to the top where the intensity and speed of rubbing is ramping up. You are pinching your nipples now, squeezing your breasts hard, up. Hot breath and soft lips are lavishing your neck. You slide a hand down and press it atop the swirling stroking fingers to let them know that teasing is done and the time to come is at hand. The hand delivers, rubbing your hard slippery clit to a crushing orgasm, weakening your knees. The hands catch you and guide you to the floor where the soft lips from your neck connect with you labia, sucking a second orgasm from your loins.


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