connection. escalation. brake. whispers. escalation. escalation. brake. sweet nothings. escalation. wine. cross room glances. stolen moments. brake. smile. escalation. escalation. oh fuck escala… brake. lingering memory. serenade. escalation. poet for your story. date. entwined fingers. sighs. late night calls. escalation. nomorebrakes. justbabysteps. fornow.
why is the focus
always on the fucking sun
sure, it’s beautiful and such but that’s the moment that the stars
out to sexify my sight
(like doe eyes in my light)
it’s not a fucking sunset to me, but rather
a star rise
Diamonds. Beers by a beach camp-fire. Stories from our youth. The first time for anything. Languid sex on a stormy night. Making a new friend. Airline stewardesses. Wine gluttony. The fucking best coffee you ever tasted, the perfect aroma, texture, temperature and mouth feel fuck yes. Anything that fills your cup, your senses and makes you fucking cry with joy. The sight of seeing your child born. A first kiss, quickly followed by a first fuck. That moment, you know, of that first “touch” of sin on sin. That glance and smile across the crowded room that leads to whatever you want it to. The way she plays with her hair and the way he leans in to you. A sunrise with promise. A sunset with no regrets. Life, well lived, loved, and with dancing.
Sassssssy cat, wich’yo lilly white
thighs and yo loooong dark cuuuurrrrls, an yo
ceyyooot lil nose ring.
Sassssssy cat giirrrl, imma gonna
i don’t play hard to get
i play hard, full stop.
no games. no rehearsal. no second chances.
(except for Chicago
, I’ll always give Chicago another chance)
we hadn’t met for lunch for several months due to a minor falling out, and i’d missed the easy connected conversation that we’d always shared. today, it was the same. i shared the latest news on my business and travel plans, and she shared news on her house renovation, family, and her upcoming wedding. despite technically still being engaged, i love how she and her partner have always referred to each other as their “wife”. true love and commitment, you know?
conversation turned to our most recent falling out however, and i tried to laugh it off, “it’s like when a boy likes a girl but doesn’t know how to express it. he’ll make fun of her and tease her instead. you know i dig you!”
i continued, jokingly, “and you know that secretly the main reason i like hanging out with you is so that one day i’ll turn you. my secret fantasy is to fuck you, jess.”
did i actually just say that?
fortunately jess picked up on the joke, “oh really! well, if i ever felt inclined to fuck a man again, it would definitely be you!”
“do you want to know how i fantasise about it?” i said, playing along further.
“oh yes, sure! tell me how your diirrty man-mind works, haha.”
i reached across the table and placed my hand to her cheek, my fingers lightly to the side of her neck. “well, i’d start by telling you that you’re beautiful, desirable, and you excite me.” she was taken aback a little, shocked that i touched her, but she did not draw away.
i moved my thumb gently across her face and ran it across her bottom lip, “you know that, don’t you jess? you’re beautiful and desirable, and any man or woman would be lucky to kiss these lips”.
jess tilted her head slightly, shifted in her seat, and smiled. just a little. i continued, and placed my other hand on the inside of her knee.
“we have more than a friendship. we have a connectedness in lust. i feel it. i feel you, and i want you.”
my hand slid a little up her thigh, and she shifted further towards me. her breath sharpened, and she took a confident posture.”
“tell me more,” she insistent. it was almost a demand, but also a plea.
the nature of where we were seated allowed me to tell her more… and show her more. i slid my hand further along her thigh, under her dress, and my fingers felt the heat and wetness that was now oozing onto panties. i leaned closer, looked her in the eyes, and said,
“i can smell your anticipation, and it’s as sweet as your cunt”
with that, her whole posture gave way. her eyes glossed over, and her body was limp. Her legs opened, and my fingers gently brushed her wetness. to her credit, she never broke eye contact. we remained, connected.
she suddenly stood, took my hand in hers, and motioned to the door.
“come with me. come with me, now.”
We’ve chatted, flirted, and more. In some ways, she’s a mouse, and other ways, a firecracker. In some circumstances, confident. In others, frustratingly pessimistic.
The last time she told me that she masturbated while she thought of me, I asked he to tell me about it. This is what she wrote.
You were already in the room when I got there. Standing by the window with a drink in your hand. I met your eyes and dropped my bag to the floor, crossing the room to get close to you. You smiled and started to say something but I cut you off with a kiss. You seemed surprised but recovered quickly, wrapping your arms around me and sliding your tongue against mine. I pulled your shirt out of your jeans and slid my hands along your ribs, your back, down your hips. I sucked your tongue further into my mouth and undid your jeans. You pulled back then and rested your forehead against mine, both of us short of breath. Then you said hello and asked if I wanted a drink. My fingers wrapped around your cock when I told you no. I wanted you to fuck me. You sucked in a breath and I could feel your cock jump in my hand. It was a short second before you recovered. You grabbed my shoulders and roughly turned me around, pushing me up against the table. And then you were inside me. You held there, deep inside me. I could tell how close you already were. You pulled out slowly before thrusting hard back in. Your hands on my hips pulling me closer to you. I looked up and watched you through the mirror on the wall. You were watching your cock disappear inside me. Then you looked up and our eyes met in the mirror. Watched each other while you fucked me. Though I didn’t think it was possible, I could feel your cock get harder inside me. I could feel your balls slapping against my ass every time you thrust into me. Still, you did not look away.
Fucking hot, right? Makes me hard every time I read it. The best thing is, I suspect that when she wrote it her husband was in the next room. She has a fire inside her mind (and between her thighs) that cannot be extinguished. Let’s all watch her blossom, shall we?