Visceral Lit











{August 10, 2007}   To Try Something New

I have always been, as I like to call it, a scientist. Always experimenting, there is very little I haven’t tried, at least once. I’ve said before, half-joking that there is in fact nothing I won’t try four times before I make up my mind about it.

I’m 31 years old, now and while my partnerships don’t number astronomically high (they really don’t even quite hit the stratosphere, I think) I have a fair number of diverse experiences under my belt. So imagine my surprise last week when I discovered something rather mundane that I had never experienced before.

Before last week, I had never had sex in a sleeping bag.

It’s not something I think I’ve ever given much thought to, but the night was cold and my lover and I opted to maneuver both our bodies inside one small, single bag. Skin against skin and breast to breast, our breathing quickly became laboured. Our chests pressed against one another and we giggled a bit as we tried to find a place for the four elbows which had suddenly become vastly inconvenient contrivances.

Before either of us knew it, he was growing hard between
my legs. Pressing upward, warming me from within. Our
limbs intertwined and we rolled, restrained and locked
together. Thrusts were necessarily short and became quick
and deep to compensate. The base of his cock slammed and
pressed against me and we both began to gleam with perspiration
which cooled almost instantly in the night air.

I tried to raise my legs to him, to wrap them around his and open
myself more fully to his urgent thrusts, but they were wrapped
tight, the bag twisted beneath us, enforcing our closeness. I
slid my hands down, over the slippery surface of his back and
grasped at his buttocks, using them as leverage as I forced my
body deeper into the bag, forced his body deeper into myself.

His body began to tremble and my pussy began to throb in answer. He whispered feverishly to me each sensation of his body, as we slid up and down one another’s forms, a layer of thin sweat the only thing which could fit between us.

My skin tingled and burned with the friction, the constant contact raising my pulse and exciting every inch of me. When I came, it was with my whole body and my whole body strained against the flannel and nylon, and against the body of my lover as his back struggled and strained to arch with his own orgasm.

We came together and it seems there was no other way it could have ended. Our bodies so firmly intertwined that every small ripple of muscle pushed and pulled against another. We were as one body, held together there as our breathing slowed. He dropped his head into the crook of my neck and I felt his heart pound against mine, slowing against our rib cages, perfectly in sync.



{July 16, 2007}   Pria’s New Toy pt. 2

I promised you all the full story of my newest toy. It’s a bit late in coming, I’ve been very bad about my updates lately but I hope you can forgive me when you hear just how the experiment went.

As my more faithful readers know, I had long fantasized about the opportunity to strap one on and have my way with a willing lover, to feel, if only as a pale simulation, the power and intensity of being the one who fucks rather than the one who is fucked.

That night I prepared in secret, a long shower and shave, paying attention to all my bits and peices. I made up the bed and loaded up my cock with batteries. I placed my favourite lube close at hand and with a sly and knowing smile. I led my lover into our bedroom.

It seemed appropriate that I take control of the situation, perhaps my now vibrating cock gave me that drive, dampening my essential submissiveness and bringing out a new Pria, a Pria who took control of her sex.

Slowly, my mouth entwined with his, I lowered my lover to the bed, running my hands over his body, a firm touch massaging and gripping at each opportunity. I ran my tongue seductively across his lips and smiled as his dick twitched and grew, standing just a bit further out from his thighs.

I slid into the harness as I took turns nibbling at each of his erect nipples, flickering my tongue down his chest while I slipped the thick end of the double dildo into me and turned the dial for a low level of vibration. The sensation spread through my body like a flash flood, drawing my head back and a surprised cry from my throat.

My lover grinned and grabbed behind my head, reasserting a masculine control as he drew his warming cock along my torso, watching my face as it struggled to regain the composure the sudden sensation had robbed from it. My thighs and abdomen trembled as his smooth, stiffening head brushed lightly against my lips.

My tongue approached slowly, lips parting over it not with reluctance but slowly still. Teasing, I drew back, my lower lip pulling away from my teeth, caught momentarily on the ridge at the top of his growing shaft. A hand adjusted the base of my new dick, pressing it against my clit, thrusting the penetrative end deeper inside me. This time I swallowed hard, blinking back my building lust and containing the urge to let this man take me.

aristotle and phyllis

Lube warmed in my hands as I spread it over the tapered head, down to the base and back up again. Gently I probed at his opening, curling my spine, catlike to flicker my tongue over his straining penis. He gasped and thrust to feel the vibrations against him and his ass opened up to penetration

.

Frantically I sucked at licked at what parts of his throbbing, thrusting member I could reach, gently guiding my cock further and further against his insistent grinding. His breaths were short and shallow and I took a moment to trail my tongue over his exposed throat, feeling the vibrations of his ecstatic moans. My hands were on his body, grasping and stroking. Palms pressed to his hips, I pulled him against me as he often pulled me against him, relishing the feeling of my own hipbones pressing into quivering thighs.

Suddenly he pulled away, grasping at his dick and stroking it furiously as he turned over and raised his hips to me invitingly. I pulled up to my knees and entered him again, this time from behind, reaching one arm around to grasp at his cock; to stroke it inversely with each thrust of my hips.

I flattened my other hand against his tailbone, the soft rise of his buttocks providing ample leverage. As I stroked the base of his cock, his own hand ran feverishly over the tip. His face rested, turned to one side against our pillows, pink cheeked, mouth slightly agape, eyes squeezed shut in a rictus of pure pleasure. The sound which escaped his throat teetered back and forth between gasps and moans as he slammed his ass against my hips, over and over again.

As my own pleasure built, egged on by the vibrations which filled my dripping cunt, my hands wandered, grasping at handfuls of him at a time, then wandering up my own abdomen to squeeze my breasts, tease the nipples, tickle my engorged clitoris and then return to his enormously erect penis.

When he came, I caught the spray in my palm, wave after wave of his pleasure filling my hand. I gently rubbed the tip, drawing out his orgasm as my other hand attacked my clit, inciting cries of lust from my throat.

Slowly I slid from him and collapsed on my back, my new toy standing straight out from my abdomen, rising and falling with my heaving breaths. I turned off the vibrations and turned to look at my lover. His face showed awe and his eyes sparkled. We kissed.



{June 21, 2007}   Indiscretion

Did I bring it up?
It’s my fantasy so I must have. I can’t imagine the opposite scenario and yet can’t quite remember where it came from. Deep in the recesses of my depraved brain, no doubt. I remember the conversation leading in. Did I really plan that far back? I don’t think so. Perhaps though, my brain is way ahead of me when it comes to fantasy fulfillment. I sometimes think it seems as though it’s all too easy for me to get what I want in bed.

Still, I was nervous. I got up and threw on the shirt offered me before I even thought. As I wandered out to the living room, my brain began to scream at me, demand an explaination for my behaviour, demand a validation, concrete evidence that I wasn’t about to make a complete ass of myself.

I circled through the kitchen, ostensibly to pour myself a noisy glass of water and then back to the bedroom, wide-eyed. What was I thinking?

I couldn’t settle though and out I went again and again, each time increasing the volume designed to stir my target from slumber.

Oddly, it’s not as if this target was someone who had ever occurred to me in this light before. Reasonably attractive, easy going and with just enough in common to hold a conversation with, the idea of my mouth on his cock certainly seemed far from the realm of the probable a mere few hours earlier.

With an attitude akin to that of a kamikaze pilot, I finalized my approach, climbing in next to him, lightly running a hand down the side of his prone form.

He’s slender, bony, but as I reach his tightly clad ass, I find it muscular and round. I shy away from allowing my touch to progress further, not wanting to violate, not wanting to cross the bounds of consent. I fear I may already have, despite my intention to rouse.

I wait a few moments, barely breathing, willing him to wake so I can blurt out my proposition, so I can see this decision closed, one way or the other.

I attempt a few more tentative touches, light brushes of the curve between his ribcage and hip, my hand circling around and up his back, deciding that touching his rear end, despite it’s appealing firmness is outside of the bounds of appropriateness.

It’s been a long time since I’ve touched a man this thin, the curve of whose hip bone extrudes like a handle. I want to grab it, push my palm against the top of his cheek and use it to pull myself towards him, to stretch my neck and lightly brush his with my lips, to nibble his inviting collarbone.

I can hear movement in the other room and I am aware of the time passing. In agonized frustration I roll over onto my back. Perhaps if I just wait long enough, he will arouse on his own. Sure, I would expect some confusion, but I’d deal with that when I came to it. My heart is pounding and my nerves frayed. I am ready to get up and bolt, I can picture myself giggling with frazzled nerves at my own gall and my own cowardice, when he rolls over, his arm brushing mine.

I turn slightly towards him, holding my breath. All of a sudden I am terrified he will awaken. Feeling the fool I am. Unbidden, my hand brushes his sinewy forearm and his eyes open. Bleary, he gazes at me. “Hi!” I say brightly, the first greeting that enters my mind leaving my lips as quickly as it occurs to me. His eyes clear and he looks back, a knowing grin spreading across his features. “Hi!” he replies.

His expression turns to questioning and I reach out and brush a hand against his chest, circling around waist and travelling down for that much-anticipated second stroke of his rear end. This time I squeeze it, pull him towards me. “He knows I’m out here.” I murmur and he responds “I assume so” His lips meet mine and I’m surprised that this I do not have to initiate.

His kiss is soft, softer than most I’ve encountered, but not sloppy as the looser embrochures my experiences have tended towards. I draw away, my heart now pouding, breath shallow in my lungs. I can feel already the pressure behind his jeans, pressing against my thigh. I’m stunned and titillated by the speed of his arousal. “I’m not stepping on anyone’s toes, am I?” I ask, breathlessly. He smiles, pulling me confidently toward him, I am also surprised with the stride he takes this in, as if it is a common occurance in his life to wake next to a mostly disrobed woman. “Don’t worry about it” he replies. I think he adds that it’s ok, but I can’t be sure because I’m swept away by the rapid engorgement of my own sex.

Soon my lips are locked against his, the loose man’s shirt that has hung to just below my hips riding up with each motion of our pelvises. I sense the entry of my partner and my heart skips a beat and my breath catches as I wait for the outcome of this addition, this next step. Again, his stride is not broken. I reach my hand down the front of his pants, sliding across his trembling stomach and past the cool chrome and stiff leather of his belt.

As I massage the already calescent hard-on, flicking my wrist to free it from his waistband I lay my head on his shoulder and whisper into his ear. “Is this ok?”

He raises his hips towards my palm and looks me straight in the eyes. “I don’t hear me complaining” he responds. I reach my other hand around and grasp his belt buckle. “As long as you’ll let me know,” I say, sliding my fingertips between the layers of leather. From the corner of my eye I can see my partner beginning to stroke his growing cock. My fingers pry harder at the stiff band and I raise my head, to focus my eyes on the contrivance there. It is not the standard pronged, end bar enclosure and I manipulate my hand to the next type in my experience vaults.

It’s not one of those either.

Shit.

Perhaps it’s the sort with a toothy slider, the sort most usually seen on canvas belts. I squint and adjust the angle of my head, all dreams of a smooth seduction seeming ridiculous as my fingers fumble with increasing frustration. Fortunately, the belt’s wearer steps in, freeing me from the torment of the inept.

His cock is so hard that the skin is stretched completely smooth. He slides his pants off his hips and I straddle his thighs, pinning his legs to the bed and using my tongue to add lubrication. Following the path with my hand.

Reaching up under his balls and stroking his shaft with my free hand, I begin to work on the tip, flicking it playfully with my tongue and then wrapping my lips around it to tease the ridge with the stud in my tongue.

My partner rises and crosses around to my rear, grasping my back just above the tailbone and massaging his cock between the folds of my pussy. I gasp, a soft moan escaping as I tilt my hips toward his, a slight shimmy in them to press him deeper between my thighs. I whimper as he enters me and plunge my head down further over the dick in my mouth, wanting both ends as full as I can muster, matching the rythm of my gasping fellatio to that of my trembling hips.

My mouth fills, but the cock in it throbs for more, not faltering in its state of arousal, I lick it clean, shifting my weight for a change of position.

I am carried away by sensation, by hands on my breasts, my ass, my hips, my head. I am presented with two dicks, trembling before my face and I squeal with glee, encasing the saliva drenched one in a condom and begining slow licks of the other. Soon the positions are switched and I massage tight balls as an unfamiliar length enters me. Unfamiliar hands grasp my hips, unnecessarily gentle, as new partners tend to be.

I’m carried away again in a flurry of sound and touch, of moans and slurps and grunts of pleasure. My body quakes and I let out a high-pitched shudder as orgasm washes over me. I use one hand to press the knob between my pussy lips against the base of the cock inside me, to draw out orgasm after orgasm. My mouth is filled again and again the twitching cock does not give out.

Hours have passed and I lie on my back now, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on my skin. Exhaustion is setting in but my enthusiasm has not waned. I grip a shaft in each hand and feel a dribble across the back of one, as hips are pushed towards me. My partners too are tired. Were the year a bit older the sun would be creeping up over the buildings outside.

It seems a cigarette is in order.



{June 2, 2007}   and a she makes three

I forgot how much firmer I was when I was young. Touching her now, I was surprised at the taut skin. Her breasts, full and round, rose to meet my hand and I sqeezed, gently testing the resistance. The skin yielded little but the woman’s lips parted, a flash of white teeth showing briefly between lips flushed and swollen with our kisses.

I was entranced by her face, spasms of pleasure distorting her smooth features as our partner’s mouth lightly fluttered over her labia. My hand crept to my own pulsing clit, wet already though it had not yet been touched tonight. I lowered my lips to the nipples which stretched toward me, never taking my eyes off her features.

Her throat expanded to allow a small sound, something between a moan and a cry which escaped her lips and was chased away by the glistening tip of her tongue. I ran the tips of my fingers over those lips, now pulling the lower one down slightly to meet my approaching kiss. My body slid over the sheets, drawing itself against hers to press my wetness against her thigh.

A small sound escaped the lips of the man between her legs and he grasped at his own cock, turning it towards me. Obligingly I slid my body down her leg, a trail of my juices tracing the friction of her smooth, tight skin against my clit. Locking my legs around his, I slid myself across his cock. It had grown huge, standing out as it had never before. It throbbed against me and burnt to the touch.

His lips broke free and he grasped her hips with muscular, sinewy hands to pull her with him as his body turned to accomodate me.

I knelt above him and continued my traverse along his trembling form. Settling my cunt against his ankle, I lightly trailed my hands over his abdomen and up the inside of his thighs. As his legs parted, his ankle drew up between my lips, pulling tightly against me and it was my turn to moan before plunging his cock deeply into my mouth.

She had settled on her knees and braced against the wall and now she ground herself against his furious, frolicking kisses.

His hands clasped over the blankets, gripping them tightly and taking up fistfuls of the bed as his body arched to our ministrations. They let go abruptly to feel up her body to her breasts. Feverish fingers trailed over her lips and then slid rapidly back down to her hole. Gently, slowly he pressed two inside as he turned his tongue to her swollen clit.

She cried out first and he tugged his cock out of my mouth as it twitched, threatening to explode down my throat. Gently he lay her down, lifting her legs as he trailed a taut torso over her breasts and then plunged himself inside her. I lay next to them, watching, spying, observing their bodies intertwined.

I bit my lip and my fingers tensed on my abdomen to see their embrace. The subtle shifts of their muscles as they strained against one another led a near painful warmth through my middle.

His hands on the back of her knees he pressed them back and he fucked her harder, looking deeply at me as my own knees spread to accommodate my venturing fingers. I watched, transfixed as his abdomen tensed with his thrusts. Suddenly there was another hand on my cunt and she murmerred my name as her fingers skillfully found their way between my lips.

A light touch, lighter than I might have touched myself, over each part of my pussy, pressure applied in just the right way and my eyes squeezed shut, my hands stretching over my head in a simulation of being bound. When my eyes opened again it was just in time to see his forarm moving across the back of her knee.

A cry came from my mouth as my eyes shut again. As his dick plunged in and out of her, he thrust two, then three fingers up my own writhing cunt, matching the rythm and pressure inside her. He arched his back and strained deeply into her, shouting as he emptied himself. His body twitched and pulsed with his orgasm and the hand in my cunt translated each wave of his pleasure.

I watched his body tremble and shake and my pussy throbbed for more. Grinding my hips against the hands that eagerly grasped, juices flowed and my orgasm came, through my pussy and through my mouth, wracking my body with each pulse. Spasms of pleasure brought with them smaller orgasms and I came again and again, coaxed and urged by tireless hands, both rough and masculine and tender and smooth.

He collapsed now atop us as our frantic breaths slowed and deepened and a layer of sweat separated our skin. As he eased his exhausted cock out of her, our hands delicately explored one another, taking the time to know the folds and crevices our lust had not yet had the patience to map.

I awoke once in the night, to find his head on my stomach, his arm across the soft curve of her hip and smiled at his peaceful face before drifting back into deep and contented slumber.



{May 13, 2007}   Equal to the love you make

I remember the last time we fucked. By candlelight and incense, we sat in the nude, face to face and cross-legged. Our knees barely touched and I could feel the hair on your legs tickling mine, the warmth of you radiating from behind it.

You’d made a lot of rigamarole about love and I’d been at first, alarmed. As I’d realized it wasn’t about me, wasn’t my love you were entreating, I felt a relief which gradually passed into disappointment. This body was mine tonight, but never after.

I remember trailing my finger lightly down your chest, never breaking contact. I paused for a moment over your heart and then allowed my fingers to cascade over your abdomen. As gradually tensing abdominal muscles tapered, I hesitated again, the tips of my fingers lightly tickled by dark curls.

I flattened my hand and felt the curls gathering between my fingers as my palm pressed against your half-erect member. My fingers curled underneath your scrotum, gathering your balls into my hand and I lightly brushed them against the base of your rapidly stiffening cock.

Your hands were on me, too, slipping back and forth between my clit and my opening, extracting soft, deep breaths which arched my breast towards you. It was as though my chest was being tugged by yours, areolae hardening, reaching out for contact with you.

I leaned forward and lightly touched my lips to your collarbone, my tongue flickering along it to your earlobe before trailing down your firm chest to envelop a small, rigid nipple. You called for the divine as I pressed your cock towards me, slowly massaging with my hand as I trailed my torso across your skin.

Your hands, no longer able to reach my engorgement, tensed and gripped my thighs, pulling me closer and then moving to the yielding flesh which rose and fell against your cock. I shifted to your other nipple and drew my body to envelop it between my breasts. Obligingly, you pushed them together and pressed through.

My tongue flickered from my mouth, a quick, firm touch to the underside of your head, pressing briefly to the tip and following it with a soft kiss. Your sudden exhalation swept across my back, tickling the bare flesh and raising a scattering of goose bumps.

I slid backwards on the blankets we had placed down, to arch my neck and take your penis into my mouth. Your hands fell to the floor behind you as your hips pressed ever so slightly upward. I remember pressing you in, deeply and extending my tongue to meet your scrotum, lifting your balls to brush them against the stud in my tongue.

You rose and I fell, a well oiled machine, with the practice of lovers experienced in the motions of each other’s bodies, the intimacy and enthusiasm of a half dozen fucks culminating into the ecstasy of this moment. You straddled me and I lifted my head, drawing your cock back towards my face for more.

I fucked you with my lips and tongue and hands, the back of my throat flexing and relaxing as your hips moved you through my mouth. You were harder than I’d ever seen you and my cunt burned for your entrance.

Grasping your hips I pushed you down my body, my heart beating wildly and my breath coming in short, building gasps. I dragged my clit back and forth over your dick, which stiffened and grew even more before plunging inside me, my pelvic bone pressing my clit into the vee at your base.

I grew and throbbed against the dark hairs, now plastered flat by the juices which slid you in and out of me so smoothly. A high pitched cry, matched by a tenor of a groan accompanied our orgasms, bodies trembling and shaking.

You collapsed on top of me, sweat dripping through my hair, my hands stroking your back, your ass, your thighs as I trembled with depletion.

We lay there a long time like that, faces buried in one another’s necks, hands tender and thankful. Lips gently caressing now and then. Your penis softened gradually between my legs and eventually slipped out of me, brushing against a still sensitive clit and I gasped one last time.



{May 10, 2007}   Why she stayed

Andalee slammed the phone into its cradle, frustrated. Three times in a row, now. Three times he’d cancelled at the last minute. How long was she going to put up with this shit? She’d convinced herself weeks ago that she didn’t need him. That his bullshit wasn’t worth the sex.

It was such good sex though – Her mind wandered to the last time they’d been together, his sinewy hands fimly wrapped around her hips, fingertips leaving small imprints in her flesh, her hipbones grasped for leverage as he slammed himself inside her.

Her face flushed a bit to think about it and her hand creeped, almost of its own volition, towards the band of her panties. It was hot in this room. Hot outside.

Her eyes fluttered when she thought of the way his old ties had been recommissioned, to bind her hands over her head. Fastened to the headboard, face down, knees spread firmly, with command. Her clit yearning for pleasure, her pussy filled with him. The vague pain that mingled with the pleasure as he reached the base of his own cock and still strained for deeper penetration.

She gasped as she remembered the feeling of his hair, brushing against her back as he lowered himself to grasp a mouthful of flesh between his teeth, his right hand swinging out to lay down an imprint on her ass. Her body jerked in reaction and he grasped her hips again, firmly pulling them back into position over his cock.


The pictures unfolded behind her eyes as she struggled for the surety she’d had only moments before. His lips and eyes flashed across her mind and she gave up the struggle. Vigorously, she attacked her cunt.

Her left hand flew up and down, applying just the slightest pressure on her clit, her less dexterous (or should I say less sinister?) right hand curling up underneath her, striving for something approaching the depth of penetration he could acheive for her.

Kicking the sheets and blanket down to the end of her bed, she curled them around her feet, creating a sensation of being bound. She moaned under her gasping, shuddering breaths as she pictured his lips enveloping her breasts, sucking the nipples in and biting down hard.

How bad she’d been, doubting him, expecting him to adapt to the schedule of her clamouring libido. He was withdrawing the pleasure now. Leaving her trembling in anticipation, in frustrated desire.

She panted at the idea of his cock, dripping with her sex, and his demands that she finish him with her mouth. Her fingers crept up her chin and she sucked the juices off them, her other hand pinching her engorged lips together, punishing them for their presumption.

She could practically taste his orgasm shooting to the back of her throat as she let go suddenly of her pussy, the blood rushing painfully back into it, bringing with it her own climax, an excruciating pleasure which extracted a cry from her throat.

If he did it again, though, she was through.



{May 8, 2007}   Fucking Fiction

Motion sensing security lights flicker on as we pass a graffitti-slathered wall. Bright colours, fine art in an alleyway, urban culture expressed through bold strokes. The tagging detracts from the art and I find myself angry at the defacement of a painting. Incensed that this gallery of unauthorized art is considered no better than adolescent ink excretions, primate territorial markings akin to chimpanzee shit-slinging or a canine who lifts its leg every half block to sprinkle another surface with urine.

The quickening dusk makes my companion’s features virtually indistinguishable. I stare into facelessness as a strong hand reaches around the small of my back and guides me towards one of the walls. Soon, my shoulders are pressed against it. The texture of the brick is translated through a thin summer shirt. A deep rumble in the distance echoes a building libido as a hand works its way down my torso.

My breath catches, just a bit, as a single fingertip lightly brushes the outside of my thigh. Scarcely making contact with skin, the finger slowly lifts the hem of my skirt. Denim rises to meet the thin fabric of my underpants, rapidly dampening without the help of the scattered raindrops which are beginning to fall onto us; around us. A flash of lightening illuminates my partner’s face, reflecting most strongly off spots where the rain has caught in his hair, or runs down the sides of his cheeks. I watch, transfixed as lips approach mine, a single drop clinging to the upper one.

I meet them with mine, sucking the water off, chasing my lips with my tongue, thirstily drinking the rain which now begins to stream down our faces. A crack of thunder prompts a gasp of breath and a thrust of my hips. Breathing becomes labored as I struggle with wet denim and leather. My underwear is gone, my skirt lifted and pressed between barely exposed abdomens. I wonder only briefly about its state, torn and crumpled in a gathering puddle at my feet.

Finally I free his cock, and feel it press against me, the heat of it cooled only momentarily by the rain. Strong hands press my shoulders into the brick. The storm has built now to its apex. Our gasps are muffled by the sound of water hitting pavement, the rumbles and cracks of thunder drowning out my quiet whimpers of pleasure. His cock moves up and down against my pussy, drawing me out, teasing me. I look along his arm, noticing the definition. Muscles standing out as he strains against me.

A hand grasps my thigh suddenly, lifting my leg, level with his waist and he enters me quickly, violently. My chest heaves and my head arches back as we fuck in the rain. Time is lost to the rythm of the rain, the rumble of the thunder, the sensation between my legs. An explosion of pleasure brings me back to myself. A slowing of rain and rythm, slick bodies moving apart, wet clothes clinging to glistening skin, the spot is abandoned.



{May 7, 2007}   Tie me up, Tie me down

Breath came raggedly to her. Her eyes bore into his with consummate intensity, the flecks of gold around the pupil flashing as she tilted her head to one side, arching her neck simply, pressing her breasts flat against his chest. He noted with satisfaction a flutter of her eyelids and watched as a bead of perspiration welled on her temple and then tumbled the short distance into rapidly dampening strands of hair.

She locked her eyes on his again and he sensed the surrender in them as she allowed her body to carry her away. He arched his own back and shuddered slightly as she drew him in. His head sank into her exposed neck, tasting salt upon contact with the slick skin. He ran his hands up her arms and over the rough hemp that bound her wrists. Her hips moved suddenly towards him, taking his breath away as his cock moved even deeper inside of her.

He moved his hands down her arms now and gathered her up, his fingers grasping her shoulders, pulling her down onto him. He realized dimly, through a haze of sensation that her deep, scarcely audible moans had risen in both pitch and volume and that his own lips allowed complementary utterances. Their bodies were moving more quickly now and he gathered up a mouthful of flesh and bit down on it as his cock swelled and stiffened urgently. Her cunt tightened around him in waves, ripples of electricity running from tip to base, timed with the treble of her distant sounds.

He let go of her neck, lightly brushing his lips over the dents left by his teeth, probing them with the tip of his tongue. His fingers slipped from her shoulders and he grasped her hips firmly as his body prepared for release. He felt her stiffen in his hands and released himself. She cried out as each throb pumped more of his pleasure into her. He looked down at her face, intensity on every line. Her breathing became deeper and also more rapid as her own peak hit. She fell silent as her body trembled under him and around him.



{May 7, 2007}   Andrew – 2004

The conversation faltered. They glanced shyly at one another, each trying simultaneously to catch the others’ eyes and yet to avoid prolonged eye contact. The minutes stretched out until the tension in the room was palpable. A haze of mind-altering hormones caused blood to rush from the centre into her cheeks and puzzlingly, her ears. A few aborted advances were made, leaning towards one another and then pulling back as though scalded by proximity. It was now or never.

The kiss was frantic. Heart thumping wildly and mind reeling she pressed her lips against his and then pulled back. He smiled and she tried to smile back. He reached out a hand and cupped her cheek and she leaned forward again. He kissed her softly and her hand, shaking and unbidden, reached up. She ran her fingers through his hair. It was soft and clean, her hand slid easily through it. She extended her tongue gently beyond her lips and with it studied the curve of his upper lip before allowing the tip of her nose to slide down his, their foreheads resting against one another and enveloping his lower lip in her own.

A deep intake of breath. Hands flying,
each trying desperately to keep up with their frenzied libido. The
kiss was more than that now, it was a gasping, sucking entity;
warm and moist. The lips parted and explored other regions of
the face. Fumbling fingers found their way around a variety of
catches. Clothes forgotten, they changed postion. The kiss became
deeper, the breathing more frenzied. There was no stopping it.

Control was surrendered to the deeper senses.

Her heart was pounding and her face flushed. There was
no time to wrap her head around the newness. The feel
of this body, the curve of this cheek, the smell of this
male.

Every one of her senses was stretched to capacity,
her mind flickering over each one briefly like an indecisive
hummingbird drinking in a field of flowers.

Lights flashed behind her eyes as his lips charted new
territory.

She pulled his face back to hers and locked her lips against his, desperately trying to focus on one thing. She was painfully aware of him pressing against her and her hips strained urgently toward his. A new, unbearable, emptiness was clamouring for her attention. She bit her lip, trying to regain control over her body, struggling for composure. Filling her lungs to bursting she enthusiastically called the battle.

He was strong, dominant, sexy. Her head reeled with new sensations until she wondered if she would even remain conscious. The kisses slowed, the hands became more gentle and their bodies relaxed into one another. Breathing hard they smiled, still with an unfathomable shyness, at one another. She brushed a sweaty lock of hair from his forehead and eased herself out from under him, not willing to let go.

It was late. She held his head in her lap as he drifted off to sleep. She sat contemplatively there for hours. Meditating on her newest experience, reliving it as she looked at his peaceful face. It was a good night to be alive.



et cetera