What I need...

What I need right now is to hear your car pulling to a stop outside my house.

What I need is to hear the door slam as I race out the side door, across the yard and into your arms. I need to feel the wind across my skin and your arms at my waist as you pick me up, spinning me around, literally sweeping me off my feet.

What I need is to smell you as I press my body to yours, my face into your neck, so I can inhale you.

What I need is to take you by the hand and nearly trip over the patio step as we race in the side door to avoid distractions. I need to almost fall down the stairs and have you grab my hand to pull me back, then pin me against the wall at the landing, and with your body pressing into mine, kiss me so hard that my knees go weak and my mind is erased of everything but you. So that when you pull away, I nibble on my bottom lip and can't do anything but giggle and blush just a little. I need to fumble our way down the last of the stairs, and still be locked in a kiss with you as we find our way into my bedroom. 

I need you to slam the door shut behind you, never taking your hands off me. I need you to pin me against that door with your body again, your hands at my hips, lifting up my shirt. I need to feel that electric charge when your hands touch my skin. I need to feel those butterflies, that dizzy feeling I can't escape when your mouth is on mine. I need to feel breathless and fulfilled all at once and like I can't possibly be close enough to you.

I need to be grasping desperately at your belt, trying so hard not to be distracted by your mouth at my neck as my clumsy hands find the buckle, the button, the zipper. I need to be pushing the waist of your jeans off your slim hips as I feel your hands run up my torso, taking my tank top with them. 

I need to feel my self-consciousness slipping away as you step just an arm's length away to look at me, flushed and increasingly disheveled though I am, and smile - just the corners of your mouth, and your eyes flash that beautiful green I've been stuck imagining for entirely too long. 

I need to run my hands up your torso, bringing your shirt over your head and losing sight of it as soon as it leaves your body. I need to be tracing my fingers up and down your abdomen, around your pecs, and back to your hips, pulling you back to me.

I need to feel your warmth on my skin. I need to feel the contrast of your body, smooth and warm, against the door you still have me against, cool and unforgiving. 

I need to feel your hands at my jaw. I need to feel you pull me to you, slowly, intensely. I need to feel your kiss through my entire body. I need to feel your entire body pulse as you kiss me. I need to feel your lips on mine. I need to feel your tongue on mine. I need to feel you biting my bottom lip, pulling just the slightest on my lip ring.

I need to hear you sigh, contented and hungry, as you tighten your grip at my hips. I need to feel the momentum as you pull me away from the door and push me onto the bed. I need to shiver as your mouth traces delicate patterns down my body. I need to see you look up at me with those gorgeous eyes as you slide my jeans off my hips. I need to feel your hands up and down my legs, then your lips at my ankle, my calf, my knee, my thigh. 

I need to feel the breath, sharply inhaled into my lungs, as you bite at my hip. I need to hear you chuckle under your breath, like you know you already have me. And I need to throw my head back as your tongue starts exploring me.

I need to grasp at the sheets as your tongue finds my clit and your fingers curl themselves inside me. I need to whimper as I hear you moan into me, your tongue and fingers moving faster and in perfect discord. 

I need to see that white heat that flashes by my eyes as every muscle tenses, as I can't help but gasp out "Fuck!" when I can't feel anything but you and pleasure and love and everything. 

And, still shaking, I need to feel you kissing your way back up my stomach, my chest, my neck, until your body is back on top of mine. I need to feel your warmth and that electricity still humming between us. I need to see the smile on your face and in your eyes. I need your mouth on mine again. I need to kiss you so hard it almost hurts. 

I need to kiss you with everything I've got. I need to kiss you like it's the first time and the last time and every time inbetween. I need to pull away for just a moment, whisper out another breathless "fuck," and intertwine my fingers with yours. 

Yes, THAT'S what I need. 

Adventures in sexting

I've written before about how I'm kind of awkward trying to say anything coherent or sexy during sex. I don't do phone sex because I'm afraid of sounding like a cheesy porno. But sexting (or sex messaging)? That I can do. I posted a series of sext messages from The Scientist a month or so ago.

Well, because I'm a lucky girl, (and, who knows, maybe you all are lucky readers,) I have more super hot sext messages that I got permission to post. The Pilot sent these to me a few weeks ago. He was mentioning that he was proud of them, but didn't really know how to show them off. I, of course, willingly offered him a place to do so. He made an effort to keep each paragraph to the 160-character limit imposed by his phone, so I'll post them as such.

Which makes me think, perhaps we should start using Twitter to post erotica. Yesss... TwittErotica. Maybe this means I'll be getting a Twitter for this blog. We'll see. Not sure how many I can consecutively handle.

Anyway, without further ado, The Pilot's sext fantasy:

The sun still lights the sky from behind the mountains, casting a warm glow on your white-clad form as you cross the yard to meet me.

You're wearing the now-iconic dress and the heavy glass pendant but I'm more interested in the smiling lips and gorgeous dark eyes that are now radiant with joy.

You grab me in what must be the hardest embrace you can and whisper "I missed you" into my shoulder. "You too," I smile, pinned against the car

as I return the hug with equal intensity. "I hear there's free drinks downstairs..." I quip, and you smirkingly take the hint.

Your roommates know what's up and keep the greetings brief and in minutes I'm listening to the pavlovian click of your door being locked.

Not even a breath later, you're against the wall with my hand on your neck and my lips pressed to yours. After a long kiss, I let my hand slide down between

your perfect tits, ending with one finger on your chest. "Stay" I quietly command, and move your chair sideways. "What...?" you start to say, but I'm kissing

you again as I guide you to the chair. "Ohh." You smile coyly as you wriggle onto the arm, your hips moving suggestively to meet the wall behind you.

"I knew you'd figure it out" I say, and kneel in front of you, slowly running my hands up the insides of your legs coaxing them wider and pulling your dress

along for the ride. I narrowly miss the hot mound between them, teasing a desperate whimper out of you as I stop at your hips and dig my thumbs into the

secret buttons I know are hidden there. Gradually releasing pressure, I begin to slide back down your silky legs, this time "accidentally" hooking

my fingers into your panties. With a little cooperation on your part, they're soon sylistically complimenting the rug behind me- leaving your pussy deliciously exposed.

You're already wet, and I can feel the heat radiating from you long before my fingers touch your soft flesh. You let out a moan and hurredly fumble

with my pants. My belt thuds to the floor and we share a chuckle before lapsing back into heavy breathing. My pants and underwear join your panties,

and before I know it, your beautifully feminine hand is caressing my raging hardon. Conscious thought momentarily pauses and I find myself gripping your

neck to keep from falling over. You choke out a gasp and forget to jerk me off just long enough for me to refocus on you. I let your hot cunt go and move my

hand behind your hips, pulling them away from the wall and towards my desperately erect cock. Moving slowly closer, I move the hand at your neck down to my cock,

guiding the head to just barely touch your cunt. "Hey" I get your attention with a lustful kiss and your dark eyes lock mine as I slowly lean into you...

Inch by inch my cock disappears into your hot, lathered hole. The feeling of your muscles tightening around me makes me growl with pleasure and I have to catch

myself with your neck again. I want to stop for a moment, to savor the feeling, but your hips drive into me as your hands find their way to my taut ass,

pulling me into you. I pause for a second and you dig your nails in, forcing me deeper and making me squeeze your neck indignantly. Not that I can resist for long.

Our rhythms begin to sync; my hand behind your hips and your nails on my ass lock us together and I fall forward, biting your neck around my tightened hand.

By now we're both panting with animal lust, sweating and grinding against each other in the frantic throes of lovemaking that's been denied for months.

As the room shrinks to only you and I, I start to feel the rush of the impending explosion building at the base of my cock and my thrusts take on a new urgency.

I can tell you're as close as I am from the short, gasping breaths that you're stealing through the hand on your neck and the palpable pulsing of your cunt

muscles. It's finally too much and my whole body tenses as I shoot hot cum deep into your clenching, dripping cunt.

My hips thrust rythmically of their own accord, driving my pulsing cock as deep as it will go. I can feel you gripping me with every movement, encircling my

solid erection in slick, throbbing heat. Your own frantic motions drag a breathless "ohfuckohfuckOHFUCKFUCK...FUCK!!!" from your lips. Your back arches

and my skin burns behind your raking fingernails, proving without words that Oh yes, it WAS good for you. Our breath comes in ragged gasps and through the tingling

semi-blackout of our shared orgasm I am only dimly aware of the juices soaking both of us from the hips down. Breathing slows, muscles relax, and after a few

breaths, I slowly, languidly slide out of you, lingering with each tiny sensation of skin on cum-slicked skin. I smirk and murmur into your neck

"I think we're gonna need a towel." A euphoric "Ha!" is all you can manage before sighing deeply and slouching into my arms. "But first, let's do it again," I grin.

Introducing...

The Scientist. So named because, firstly, that's what he does. He is quite brilliant at science and math and physics and all of those things that make my head hurt because they are so far beyond my comprehension. But also so named because he has used that knowledge - observation, reason, logic, response, to figure out my body quicker than quite possibly anyone else.

To be fair, he has some advance knowledge. He and I have been friends for nearly a decade, which has been filled with countless spats - some petty, some shockingly epic. But he and I have remained friends, and truly have emerged stronger for all of it. Because of how well we know each other, he already knows about my neuroses, my relationship fears and quirks. He is shockingly good at knowing when to take which tone with me. And since we started hooking up a just over a week ago, he has been notably...more careful with me, emotionally, at least. Initially, I don't think it was something that anyone else would have noticed. (The hickeys were another story.) Of course, after our weekend, we've essentially abandoned all pretenses, at least around certain friends. But he still goes out of his way to make sure that I am OK whenever I'm with him. And because he knows me and my history so well, he knows how to read me emotionally and will do his best to arrange and improve any situation he and I are in.

There is so much more to say, and I will say it in following entries. But for now, I have a guess as to what you really want. And what's been lacking from my posts lately - teh sexeh. So, The Scientist shocked me with how well he read my body from the start. He got me off, with ONLY his hands, in a matter of minutes. I don't think that has ever happened. I'm lucky if I can get myself off with a toy that fast. Again, there are more details forthcoming about all that. And he tells me I rocked his world pretty hard, too. Which is, yknow, never a bad thing to hear.

In fact, apparently I rocked his world so hard that he's been having trouble getting the memories of our encounters of late out of his head. He told me in a text that his hand was having trouble keeping up with him, as he couldn't help himself whenever images of our encounters crossed through his mind. Quite the compliment, right? Well, this afternoon he was texting me, and asked if he might narrate the particular fantasy that was running through his head. I of course said yes.

And then I was sincerely impressed. He is particularly well-rounded for a science nerd (which I say with the greatest adoration - I'm a literary nerd, and nowhere near as well-rounded as he is) in that he is also a strong writer. But even so, I was not expecting such hot sexting. And so I asked him if I could publish it here. And he said I could. I feel like it's an excellent introduction to the discussion of he and I and this weekend and how incredibly lucky I am. It's a mix of various real experiences, mixed in with a little fantasy, too. But I'm not telling what's what.

I am going to transcribe it as a single block, although obviously it ran the course of several messages. The only editing I've done is grammatical. (I can't help it, it's what I do.)

Enjoy!

--

So right now you're on top of me with your shirt off. You're lightly nibbling on that one spot on my neck. I'm running my fingers through your hair and down your back, raking my fingernails against your skin. As you bite down harder, I can feel your heart quicken.

I roll you over and start aggressively biting my way down your neck to your slightly stiffened nipples, as I knead your left breast with my hand and bite down lightly on your nipple a slight sigh escapes your lips. As I continue to nibble on your quickly stiffening nipple I slide my hand down your leg and start massaging your thigh. I kiss my way back up your neck and engage you in a gentle but passionate kiss. I start undoing the button and zipper on your pants. As I slide your pants down I pass my hand over your mound and I can feel the heat and slight moisture of your sexy slit through your underwear.

As the pace and intensity of our kiss intensifies, I slide my hand over and around your barely-covered vagina. As I slip my fingers under your waistband, I momentarily pause our kissing, then as I ever-so-slowly slide my hand down your lightly hair-covered mound, I start to lightly kiss and lick your neck down to your collarbone. As I slide past your hardened clit, I rub up and down your amazingly soft and silky slit, putting gentle pressure on your slickened hole. As I rub back and forth from your luscious honey pot to your now-sensitive clit, I begin to bite down harder on your nipple, pausing every now and then to enjoy one of your excellent kisses. As I continue to tease your expectant entrance, you dig your nails into my back - the words from your mouth becoming tense grunts mixed with longer moans of expectant pleasure. Just as I slip my finger into your wet and smooth pussy, I bite down hard on your neck, causing you to let out a hissed "oh god, fuck!" as you tense and rise up and start to attack my neck with reckless abandon.

As I rub my thumb over your clit, I start to hook my fingers and massage the rough roof of your now flooded vagina. As your breathing quickens, you gasp in pleasure as I take a quick nibble of your wonderful breasts, causing another muffled and half-gasped "fuck" to escape your lips. As I work my way lower with my mouth, you say to me, "your tongue, my clit - NOW." As I willingly follow your impassioned command, I trace circles around your clit. But I know this is no time for teasing as your hips buck against my face. As I fully engage your pleading nub, the gasps and profanity coming from your mouth become a little less coherent and the movements of your hips a little less ordered. I can smell the wonderful scent of your stuffed pussy, causing me to dip a little lower to enjoy your wonderful taste.

My free hand rubs and squeezes your breast. Hard. You run your hand through my hair, making me purr slightly into your dripping vagina. As my pace picks up to a frenzy, I can barely understand the things you are saying to me as they come through clenched lips. Your hips bounce against my eager mouth, causing my fingers to drive deep hard and fast into you. You begin to shake as I hit just the right spot. As you grab my hair you start to pull and grab at it as a wave of pleasure shoots from your finger-filled hole. You pull my hair slightly, and the pain feels good, only spurring me on further to see you to your climax. As I drive you closer and closer to your peak, the words and moans have merged into something akin to a worshipper speaking in tongues. Which causes me to realize that this is a kind of religious experience. As I laugh quietly at myself I proceed to worship at your altar. As your orgasm builds, I can feel it in my fingers and against my mouth as you writhe uncontrollably and your vaginal walls clench onto my fingers. Right as your impending orgasm is on the edge of coming I pinch your nipple, releasing a wave of pleasure over your body as your orgasm crests and washes over you. As your orgasm continues I lighten my pressure on your clit and begin to slowly remove my fingers from your deliciously wet slit.

As you come down from your orgasmic high, I remove my fingers and start to kiss my way back up your body. As I lovingly kiss your lips, I slide my arm around you and hold you close as your orgasmic glow recedes. After a short while of holding you, listening to your breathing return to normal, you roll me over, kiss me on the lips, and say, "That was wonderful...Now it's your turn."

--


So, readers, what do you think of The Scientist? I'm rather fond of him.

I am a greedy whore.

No, really.

I hadn't been able to sleep on the second leg of my flight. I was too jittery and excited and just couldn't stop smiling. I must have looked like an idiot, a shit-eating grin on my face as we touched down at the airport just after midnight. But I knew Friend was waiting for me at the airport and that the Pilot would be there momentarily to pick us up. I nearly sprinted off the plane and to the train to baggage claim. (Wow, that was a lot of unintentional rhyming.) I found Friend sitting on a bench, a giant backpacking pack at his feet. As calmly as I could (as if he didn't know how excited I was to be there and seeing him), I walked up to him and said something stupid like "hey, don't I know you?" There were hugs, and we called the Pilot, who rolled up shortly thereafter. We decided midnight meals were in order, and after an unsuccessful effort to find an open Village Inn, settled for Denny's. (Which, by the way, were springing up like weeds... I think the final count was 8 or 9 in the same stretch of state?) The snarky, witty, nerdy conversation ensued basically immediately. I've known both boys for years, and while they've kept better touch with one another consistently than I have, I feel like I fit seamlessly into their friendship. It's a nice feeling. Of course, we tend to be very silly when we all get together, and most conversations eventually end up reduced to naked and/or sex jokes. Which is also awesome.

We had to drive for about an hour to get back to the Pilot's apartment, meaning it was somewhere around 2am. For some ridiculous reason, we decided to nerd out and watch Firefly. And drink rum. The Pilot is part pirate, and as such, LOVES rum. He was starting to devise some kind of drinking game involving taking a drink every time a character swore without really doing so, but he was basically the only one playing. Friend and I each had maybe a glass of rum by the time the Pilot had three and was relatively sauced. From some kind of semi-fateful misunderstanding, I'd told the Pilot ahead of time that we could all just share his bed. And, seeing as how both Friend and the Pilot are straight (or at most hetero-flexible, to borrow Friend's phrasing), and because, yknow, I'm a cuddle whore, I climbed into the middle of the bed. And then things got interesting.

I should mention that, in general, Friend and I are very silly with one another. Especially when it comes to sex. It's one of my favorite things about him, not only does he make me laugh, but he does so at exceedingly appropriate times and is excellent at diffusing a tense situation and helping me put things in perspective. As such, the sex we have is lighthearted and fun - which doesn't make it any less hot or memorable, but does set it apart from most other partners I've had.

In classic fashion, as I was lying between the two boys, Friend made some comment about how it was silly that I was wearing a shirt, since I had perfectly good breasts that shouldn't be hidden. Or something to that effect. I just giggled, and without much convincing, shed my shirt. At which point, I had a hand on each breast - one belonging to each boy. Friend made another joke, and started kissing my neck, biting my earlobe... pointing out to the Pilot that he should do the same and see what kind of reaction it elicited. They made the requisite snarky, cocky comments when my breathing became audibly louder. Hands started running up and down my body. Friend and the Pilot have very different touches, and it was electrifying feeling the two sensations simultaneously. As I've come to expect, Friend's touch is softer, more sensual. The Pilot, running his hands up and down the right side of my body, had a stronger touch - it seemed more urgent, hungrier. Even before anyone had moved his hands below my waist, my body was buzzing. Friend turned my face to his, both his hands on my jaw, and kissed me. So began my first boy-girl-boy threesome. And the fulfillment of a fantasy I've had for years.

(On a side note, I've started noticing that perhaps having one's lovers read one's blog is a good plan. It's a good way for them to take note of what you do and don't like, without having to burden oneself with actually telling them... *snicker*)

The Pilot knew Friend and I have been together, and I'm not sure he was originally sure how he would fit into the scenario. So I turned to him, and kissed him, too. And I have to say that in that moment, I started to feel a little like a sex goddess. That's probably an entirely unearned title, but it's how I felt. Understandably, I think, given that I had two men basically worshipping me. It's hard not to feel pretty fucking hot.

Friend, for his part, kept the tone characteristically light, which I think sometimes bugged the Pilot, who takes sex much more seriously. (Again, something that was evident even in the way they touched me.) My style is probably something of a combination of the two - I can certainly roll with either, and it was a fascinating experience having the two combined. I'd love to say I played some crucial role in mediating between the two, but the truth is I was so flabergasted by what was happening that I probably wasn't much help at all. I just kept floating higher and higher, existing on some other plane where things like this actually happen.

Throughout the entire encounter, Friend emerged as the kind of leader, or perhaps the director. He and I don't do much with a dom/sub dichotomy (although he's usually in charge, and has no problem pinning my hands down or pulling my hair to put me where he wants me), but he stepped into this quiet dominance part in this situation. I think some of it was, as we hadn't discussed anything about this with all three of us, we were kind of improvising and needed someone willing to direct things in some sense. And I think some of it was, for all that I suspect the Pilot has quite a bit of a dom personality buried in him, he was still a little unsure about what was and wasn't allowed. And I will admit that it was lovely to just sit back and enjoy, totally absorbed in the sensations, knowing that Friend was looking out for me and knows me so well that I can trust him completely. So things progressed.

Both guys went down on me - which is a big deal for me, as it's something I'm not exceptionally comfortable with. Of course, like most of the things that night, I was a little too blissed out to be self-conscious. Which, again, was a nice change of pace. And again, getting the undivided attention of two men at the same time doesn't hurt a girl's ego, either. At one point, Friend got up and came back with ice cubes, which melted on my overheated skin accompanied by my whimpers and squirming. Friend would periodically look at me and just shake his head, saying, "You are SO spoiled." I'd smile and giggle out, "Oh, I know. It's awesome."

Somewhere about three hours in (yes, THREE HOURS), the actual sex began. I don't recall exactly how the arrangement came to be (then again, most of the evening wasn't planned), but I ended up facing Friend while the Pilot fucked me from behind, spoon-style. Wow. What a mind-fuck. And talk about a very strange way to be submissive. Making eye contact with your partner while you're being fucked by someone else... I'm not even sure I can verbalize the sensation. I felt empowered, sexy, desired, while at the same time feeling very vulnerable and submissive and even a little objectified (in a good, consensual kind of way). Looking at Friend, it was like I was asking his permission, even though he'd obviously already granted it. Again, he would take my face in his hands, kiss me deeply, pull me back into the moment when I was floating away. He does that sometimes. Usually right when I need him to.

And there was the separate sensation of pleasure coming from the Pilot, fucking me. He knew what he was doing. It felt fantastic. I love being fucked from behind, and it had been a long time since I'd had spooning sex, although it's one of my favorites when it works right. And oh, was it working right. His hands were gripping at my hips, pulling me into him, and I know my breathing (more likely panting at this point) was synching up with his thrusts. He came quietly, and we both let out a deep breath. He rolled onto his back, and we all spaced out a little on the bed to start the collective come-down.

The details from there are a little fuzzy. It was definitely a different kind of come-down, and I'm pretty sure I started giggling insanely. (Something that became standard fare for the week we spent together... the boys took to calling it my midnight cat crazies... cat owners will get it.) Eventually, we fell asleep, me still in between both the boys, each of my arms twisted with one of theirs. And I slept well... Sweet dreams weren't even needed. I had just lived one.

If the things I fantasize about keep living up to my expectations, I might have to reevaluate my chronic pessimism.

And as for the title here? It became a running joke for the rest of the week, that I was a greedy whore, just letting the boys pamper me like that. And really, they were right. I just can't promise I'll be changing anytime soon if these are the experiences that trait gets me.

Being alone

Can sometimes be a really fabulous thing. At least for short periods of time. Tonight, for the first time in over a month, I have the room to myself. My roommate is out at a concert, and I have no plans. No date. Well, except the one I decided to make with myself. After dinner, I hopped in the shower, and took my time, finally.

Turning the hot water all the way up, letting it run down my skin, feeling every drop as it fell down, cheek to collarbone, traced a line between my breasts and gathered near my navel, where it split into two rivers, leading down to each hip bone. From there, the water ran down my thighs, wrapping circles around my calves and finally forming a puddle as it fell off the bony part of my ankle.

And then I imagined your tongue tracing a line back up where that water was falling. Taking my foot like some scene from Cinderella, and leaving kisses up my legs, my toes pointed like a ballerina. And as you moved up my leg, you'd look up at me with that mischievous look I love so much, and I'd be reminded how fantastic you look with water running down your body. You stopped at my hips, to nibble along the bone, keeping your hands firm around my waist because you knew my knees would go weak as soon as your teeth met my skin. Your smirk turned to a blatant grin as I whimpered and leaned back against the wall for more support.

You took this as an invitation, and raised yourself from your knees, letting me look at your glorious shape in full. Jesus, you're beautiful. You brought your hands to my chin as you stepped towards me. I knew what was coming, and my stomach was still in knots. You kept your eyes locked on mine until I tried to look away, feeling the connection almost too well. Instead of letting me turn my head, you kissed me. Deeply. Exploring my mouth with your tongue and coaxing mine into yours. Again, my knees went weak. You wrapped your hands around my back and leaned into me, fully pinning me against the wall. The cold tile on my back combined with your still-wet warmth along my torso left me shivering as I melted into you.

"Maybe we should get out of here," you suggested. You knew I couldn't conjure any coherent thought, so I just nodded and grabbed a towel for each of us as you turned off the water. We opened the door and the steam flowed out - only half of it from the hot water. We raced to the bedroom like teenagers afraid to get caught sneaking around. We tripped over each other as we tried to close the door behind us and landed on top of one another. Well, you on top of me, really. You smiled like you planned it this way all along. And maybe you did. I wouldn't put it past you. You kissed me again, as both of us were smiling. Knowing full well you had the advantage, you took the chance and in one swift movement, rid me of my towel. "You won't be needing this," you assured me.

Keeping your body on top of mine, you filled your hands with my breasts and buried your face in my neck. If I had any thought of trying to get up, you banished it at that moment. Again, you traced the same path your mouth had taken in the shower, but this time in reverse. I reached down to run my hands through your hair, and you pulled your head up from my skin, scolding me. In one fluid motion, you had pinned my hands above my head. I took a deep breath and moved a little farther from this plane of existence.

You spent more time biting at my hips, I consequently writhing underneath you, whimpering from time to time. Suddenly, I felt pressure on my clit - vibrating slowly, and as I melted even further, I heard you growl "Oh, is that where you like that?" You knew I couldn't answer in any way but to nod. "That's what I thought."

I love when you talk to me like that. I can't manage to do it myself, but hearing you tell me what I like, and how I belong to you and will do exactly what you tell me to, just reminds me of how true all those things are and how much I enjoy that fact.

You kept growling, keeping your hand at my clit, keeping me tantalizingly close. And of course, you knew when I was, and would chuckle and tell me I wasn't getting off so easily. Had I been more cognizant, I would have laughed, too, at the pun. Instead, you filled my mouth, and I almost lost control. I knew I had to ask your permission, and I knew I wouldn't get it, but having a part of you inside of me pushed me so close to the edge that I started shaking. You knew I couldn't hold out much longer, but kept torturing me. When you'd feel my body tense, you'd pull away the vibrator, seeming to revel in the change in my breathing it caused and my increasing desperation. Finally, you aligned your body with mine and thrust into me, digging your nails into my skin. I arched my back with the brilliant pain caused by having you so deep and fully inside me.

You moved your hips in that way that only you can, where it feels like you're not moving while at the same time rocking my entire body. I felt you through every nerve in my body, and as you brought the vibrator back to my clit, my body took over. My hips bucked off the bed and into you, my nails dug into your back and I lost sight of everything around me except you. My body tensed around you and all at once released and I couldn't help but gasp and pull you closer. I needed to be closer to you than physically possible.

As my body settled, you looked at me - and I couldn't tell if the dampness on your forehead was from your still-wet hair or a fine layer of sweat. Your eyes flashed. "You didn't think we were done, did you?" I felt you start fucking me again. Harder this time, with more urgency. You whispered more filthy things to me and I wrapped my legs around you, impressed that I could still move them after the putty you'd just turned me into. I sunk my teeth into your shoulder, and that soft spot just behind your collarbone. You thrust harder. I felt your body tense and felt mine start to do the same. I rocked my hips into you and realized we were both panting, almost in unison. Every muscle in my body was tight, waiting for you to push me over the edge. Then you came, with a chorus of profanities. Feeling you let go, I couldn't hold on any more, and joined you, nearly screaming as wave after wave hit me. I don't know how long we stayed like that, rocking, breathing, existing in unison.

Slowly, we came back down, you still on top of me, head resting on my chest. A tiny aftershock ran down my spine and I shivered. You raised your head to look at me, smiling. Your eyes were less intense, now; So much energy had been spent between us that I could still feel it buzzing in the air.

I stayed like that, thinking of you as I drifted off to sleep, and wishing you'd been there with me for what we just had.

(you're only) the best I ever had

How many years have we been doing this, now?
Where every time it is the same
And still so strikingly new
Fascinating
Exhilirating
Heartbreaking.
We always speak in hypotheticals
Like we don't know exactly where we'll end up
Tangled in each other
Panting
Heaving
Exhausted
And breathless.
So I'll start by saying

Maybe I'll be surprised and smile when my phone registers your name - perhaps the name only I call you and only half in jest - and you might ask if I'm back in town. I'll be glad you can't see me grinning all too wide as I write you back a coy reply.
And then maybe in the morning I'll wake you and offer smoothies and our favorite DVDs and we'll pretend that's all that's on the menu. You might be more excited to see me than I anticipated and take me into your arms with more force than I'd expected. Then perhaps I'd smile as I revel in your warmth for just a moment before we shuffle downstairs, maybe already engaged in the banter we both know we love. And then perhaps we'd settle into the couch like we always do, and I'd place my hand on the few inches of sofa between us and you'd absentmindedly intertwine your fingers with mine and pretend you don't notice my breathing change at the slightest touch of your skin on mine. Of course maybe our favorite show was really just a front that we both knew we didn't need, and it's somehow ironic that we still go through these motions. At the same time, perhaps its unyieldingly romantic, as is so much of what you do, often, it seems, without even realizing it. And maybe we'd smile at each other and linger just a moment too long, and you'd turn to look at me and feel my eyes drinking up the very sight of you. And perhaps you'd take your hand and brush the hair away from my face and match my stare, slowly pulling me to you. Then suddenly your lips are on mine and I am on fire and so acutely aware of everything while at the same time oblivious to anything but the way you make me feel.
And then you would descend on me, putting me squarely against the couch, carelessly sending anything in your way crashing to the floor. You don't care if its breakable, it needs to be on the floor while you use the surface. And hypothetically,:the passion with which you would seem to tear my clothes from my body would surpass any worldly boundaries.
I'd gasp, deep, and slide away from you for only a moment as I'd turn my body to bring myself on top of you, holding your hands above your head as my mouth makes its way down your body to your neck, your chest, your abs and your waist, where my teeth will leave barely-perceptible marks and you'll start breathing harder and harder.
Of course, you wouldn't let me hold you for long. As I am tracing my tongue, my lips, my teeth around your torso, you'd abruptly roll me over onto my back and pin me down, strong hands dwarfing mine which seem so exceedingly feminine in the moment. You might suck and bite at my skin, paying special attention to my neck and stomach. Maybe flick your tongue across my hipbones, just for a taste. Your hands might tremble in a futile attempt to be gentle because you've always looked at my naked body like a piece of art, but you'd have to release my hands to let yours have the experience they so crave.
You might then give in and let them rub my body, as your mouth follows, exploring every curve and reveling in the sounds you are pulling from me. You'd tease me with your tongue, and I'll remember when you used to tell me how you so enjoyed my taste, and were so saddened when it left your mouth. Perhaps you want to try it again.
And I am so blissfully aware of your breath, your skin, you... on me that I am like putty in your hands and am aching to be part of you. I might pull you up to me and remember how I've always loved the way your dark eyes looked at me and really saw me. But in this moment I'd look to see if you were feeling as good as I am and remind you that you love the way I move my hips... any maybe all the while I'm clawing and biting into you because I just need that much of you.
And perhaps we would have long ago abandoned silence, me for my gasps, sighs and inaudible expletives, you for low, gutteral moans and heavy breaths and dominating commands. Even as you invite my tongue into your mouth once again with yours, my name escapes your lips as I raise my hips to meet yours and match your movement. Your hands would probably already be enjoying themselves, running down my sides, over and around my thighs, up my stomach and over my breasts. And you couldn't help but be enthusiastic when, even as you push into me, your back folds in half as you taste my skin again. You would make sure I broke a sweat, if for no other reason than to have the pleasure of sucking up the single drops running down my neck and between my breasts.
And so there I'd be, my legs wrapped around you and your arms around me and again you'd sweep the stray hair from my face and I would run my tongue over your lips as I pull you deeper into me. And then perhaps you'd find me guiding your hand from my chest, to my waist, to my hips, to my navel and further down as I'd beg you to throw yourself into me. And there would be no hope for subtlety as I continue to rock my hips with yours and my lips and teeth find your collarbone once more and you inhale and sigh in that way I love where I know you're happy and are incapable of being anything else.
And if you might be being the submissive type, you'd obey my every command - though I'd never need words - but all the while you'd take pleasure in making me stumble as our hips match up and your hand finds a way to stimulate me no matter where you put it, though it will inevitably find its way everywhere else on my body that I could possibly reach. Pressing against you, sweat-drenched bodies rubbing together and moaning explitives in that sort of raw pleasure that comes with making love without worrying about where or how, only caring about the who and the now.
And you would know that I love you listening to me, while at the same time we both know you needn't because our passion is instinctual and we've never needed instructions for one another's pleasure. So you'd push me down beneath you because there's nothing like feeling you on top of me and seeing your face and feeling you move inside of me. By now I'd have so little control over my hips - they're so desperately seeking yours that my whole body is yours to do with whatever you could want. Nevertheless I know completely what you want, because what you want and what I need are the same in this moment. And maybe once you've laid me down and your hands are still finding their way all over me, mine have not left your skin since the moment they discovered you. In that moment I'm watching you so intently and feeling you so completely; we are moving perfectly together and I can watch your face and you can feel me tighten around you like my arms invariably will, time and time again...
You wouldn't let me up for a second, as you refuse to let me forget how much you enjoy being pressed against me and I against you. Bodies move and tremble, hips rock away from each other only to press back against one another even more passionately, as if our whole body kisses in the way you would kiss me. Desperate to be one person, emotion and sensation would take over. The craving for pleasure would drive movement and reason and two people find themselves the mechanism for their bodies' will, as the bodies know they fit perfectly together, and enjoy the comfort of a match.
And as we'd move perfectly in unison, blissfully ignorant of the world around us, that world would stop and we would be the only motion that mattered. As heat rips through my body I can do nothing but cry out and pull you into me, needing you to be as integral a part of my body as you are of my heart. My eyes have turned a dark emerald and your breathing has become more frantic as your teeth sink into my skin and you let out a primal scream. Your body spasms and I am one with you entirely, and even the after-shock leaves us shuddering in unison.
Then we would lie there, tangled in one other. Panting, sweating, heaving, exhausted and breathless. And we would sleep, both of us too content to move outside each other, or this space, or this moment.

*With collaboration from my dearest A. (he didn't know I'd be writing it here, but he helped with the words, the memories, the experiences...)

The Reunion (Part II)

Perfect body, perfect smile
Your touch renders me servile
I love the way you speak to me
So sweet yet obscene...
I'm addicted and
You'd agree
I crave you endlessly
And I feel useful on my knees
I take comfort at your feet...

I never take my eyes off you as I do what I'm told. Your eyes scan down my body as I peel off my tank top and hastily unbutton the dark jeans hugging my hips. I step out of them and am left standing in front of you, simple black bra lifting my tits to create the closest I can come to subtle cleavage, and my favorite lace underwear hugging my now exposed hips, where I know your hands and mouth will be not soon enough. And the heels. There's no way I could meet your kiss without the support of some kind of stiletto and standing there they bring out the tone in my calves and accentuate the femininity. My soft curves stand in sharp contrast to your defined lines along your shoulders, pecs, abs and arms. I can't get enough of the strength you exude every time I look your direction.
You look at me, still standing in my bra and underwear, and I don't wait for you to tell me to get rid of those, too. The appearance I spent so long preparing has been reduced to a pile next to me and I am entirely exposed. Except for the heels. We both know they're better left on.
I look at you, waiting for your next move, and like you read my thoughts you are upon me, your teeth once again on my neck, and I'm suddenly very aware that I'll be wearing my hair down for the next week so no one asks question. After eliciting a few more sighs and whimpers from me, you shove me back and down on the bed and take to your luggage. I had wondered why you'd brought so much. Sure, it's obvious now, but that doesn't even start to cover it. You reach in and pull out from the very top of the bag - almost like you packed it knowing what you were doing - a broad, long strip of black fabric. You climb onto the bed and then onto me, pinning my hands as you kiss me again. You stare down at me and I look back at you hard, knowing I'll be deprived of the sight of you for however long you keep me that way. I notice your eyes are darker than they usually are, and I'm already shaking in anticipation.
You tie the blindfold tight around the back of my head, already tangled in my hair. You ask if you can trust me to behave myself momentarily and I smile. You know you can for this moment, and then that's it. In case you forget, as soon as I feel your body leave the bed, I sit up and playfully start to remove the blindfold. Before I can untie the knot, the weight of your body is on me again and you have stolen my hands above my head and I feel a cord tightening around my wrists as you bring them together. It's not rough, but it's not smooth, either, and you keep tightening it until I clench my hands, begging you not to go any tighter. You must tie some kind of knot, because I feel the loose ends smack against my forearms as you throw my hands down above my head.
Unable to see you and now, unable to feel you with my palms, you must know by now how badly I'm aching for you. You must know because you take your time, and I can feel you standing over me, beside me. I can feel you staring at me as I lie on the bed with nothing covering me but the ropes at my wrists. Minutes pass like hours which are probably only seconds, but the wait is killing me and I'm starting to breathe heavier just waiting for you to touch me.
Then I choke on my own breath as you bite down - hard - on my nipples and it's everything I can do not to scream and I try to bring my hands to pull you off me and of course, it's no good. You've done your job well.
Just as suddenly, you have moved motionlessly to my hip bones, and as you bite harder and harder, I can't help but buck towards you and I'm so glad you haven't silenced me yet, because I have to start begging.
"Please, oh dear god, please fuck me!"
You chuckle and tell me you thought I'd hold out longer. You're disappointed.
I whimper, because I know I shouldn't have spoken. Now you're going to take it out on me. At least, I can hope you are.
I don't feel you on the bed anymore and I crane my head to try to hear what you're doing. It's some kind of rustling, and I can't make out the sound but that moment I feel you climb back on the bed and then you're on me again, one of your bare legs between mine. You lower your body on to mine and I sense a calmness in you as I feel your breath on my shoulder, my neck, my cheek. You kiss me. Slow, long, deep. I smile and exhale slowly as you pull your lips from mine and bring them next to my ear.
"You ready to do as I say?" you ask me, half-crooning, half-growling.
"Oh, yes sir."
"That's more like it."

The Reunion (Part I)

I can see you walking in and can't ignore that look in your eye. So far beyond mischief; I know you've long ago undressed me with your eyes and your mind is already racing with the things you plan to do to me. I stand to greet you and my feet make the floorboards creak as I hurry to the door to be closer to you. You don't bother waiting until I'm closer than arm's reach before I feel your hands tighten around my biceps, almost too tight as you pull me in to you. Your tongue forces its way past my lips and searches for a partner. It finds one in mine, and the soft, damp warmth of your mouth is dangerously inviting.
Moments ago my feet left the ground as you brought me, hard, against the wall, your tongue now leading your whole body pushing into me. Your kiss becomes more frantic as you introduce your teeth to my lips, my lip ring, my neck, my collarbone, that soft spot between the two and I can't help but cry out. You stop momentarily to look at me, straight, hard, boring through me and your smirk betrays your thoughts. But before I can reciprocate you have me turned around, my face flushed and warm, pressed relentlessly against the cold wall.
You are everywhere at once. You hold my hands above me against the wall with one of your own, dwarfing my delicately manicured fingers with your rough, short fingernails and the strong palms attached to them. Your free hand makes its way behind my head, sweeps the hair off my neck and suddenly your teeth have set me to fire and ice, chills running down my spine until they are warmed at its base. You grasp at the strap of my tank top, hissing something in my ear about being in your way. I mutter unintelligibly and you press your body harder against mine against the wall.
Your hand reaches around me and takes a handful of my breast, scratching, squeezing, pinching my nipple until I squirm and whimper for you to stop. You grant me no such solace. Instead you abruptly turn me around and effortlessly rid me of the top half of my tank top, letting the lacy top fall around my stomach. Your mouth is on mine again, and again come the fire and chills making my knees weaker by the second. Finally, I can't take it anymore and wring my hands free from yours to throw them around your neck, clutching desperately at your shirt, needing your skin on mine.
Our lips break briefly as your shirt passes over your head and between us and next to the still-open door. I kick it shut as I come back to bite your bottom lip. My nails start to dig into your shoulder blades, and I can just make out a sigh as you shudder and wrap your arms around me, tight. You lift me up to fully meet your six-foot-plus frame, and I eagerly wrap my legs around your waist. You slam me against the wall once more, and your hands move to cup my ass for support and then some.
I barely feel you move until you throw me on the bed, so hard I almost bounce off. As I regain my composure you look at me, and the remnants of the outfit you know I spent days preparing. The perfectly coiffed hair now tousled by your rough hands, the just-enough-not-too-much makeup not hiding the color in my cheeks and my excitement, the strategically planned outfit twisted sideways and halfway down my body. "You're beautiful, you know," you say in the first coherent comment either of us have made since we set foot inside the door. "Now, take off the rest of those clothes. I don't want anything else in my way."


...to be continued...