Lazy Love, Part II

*read part one here*

I make room for him on the chair that’s meant for one and he’s sitting entirely too close and I tell him he should be comfortable because it’s his house so he stretches a leg over me.  Again, this comfort.

We toast from our mismatched wine glasses and we sip and it’s clearly evident how magnetic this attraction is.  He asks me questions and watches my mouth as I answer him and he looks into my eyes and I’m distracted.

He suddenly places his finger in the middle of my spine and starts trailing it up and down, making me sit upright.  My head instinctively falls back and my eyes close, an open invitation for more.

He pulls me back towards him and places his finger on my chin.  He raises my head to his mouth and kisses me, softly but urgently.  I feel his need for me.

I stand up and hold my hand out to him.  In an instant he’s by my side, guiding me towards his bed.  He pulls my sweater over my head and my hands are on his chest, taking in every last muscle, my fingers not able to get enough of this man.  I want him underneath me.

He lays me down gently and turns me over on my belly.  His fingers grasp my waistband and my undies are slid over my behind, my legs.  He lays directly on me, feeling, wanting, needing.  His arousal is evident and I moan loud enough to let him know I’m ready.

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He pulls me up and kisses me, his lips and tongue lingering over my back, the curve of my behind, in between my legs and I’m anxious now, wanting this desire to be filled, completed.

“This is mine,” he whispers, barely audible.  “I’m going to make you mine.”

In one thrust, he’s inside, sending me over every edge, my body pulsing with every last touch of his.   His movements are calculated, rhythmic, smooth and experienced.  He’s aiming for my pleasure, my need, my want.

I push up against him, aching to reach mine but he’s a slow lovemaker, lazy almost, making sure I feel every last inch of him and I want to speed him up, I’m close, so close but he’s taking his time and I’m grabbing the bedsheets and holding onto his back and gripping his shoulders and yet he continues his slow and loving motion.

I give in to all the feelings and he senses this and starts moving faster.  He looks down into my eyes and smiles and briefly he stops, tenses up and I’m going against him, pushing and pulling and wanting all he’s got to give and together, in seconds, we call out and we’re done; hearts pounding, sweat beading, bodies sticking, spent and content.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Till You’re Ready

You’re still here.  Not as much as before, but you’re here.

You pop in suddenly, like you want to remind me. 

But I don’t need reminders.  I remember you all on my own.

I remember the shape of your eyes, the hue of brown they were, how they shone when you looked at me.

Yes, your eyes shine. 

I remember the smile you didn’t really like, but I loved.  Love.  Still.

And your voice.  I remember it.  And your laugh.  To a tee, I remember.

And your feel.  I remember how you feel when I lay my head on your chest and your heart thumping in excitement or nervousness or whatever it is, but I feel it beating against me and I remember your back muscles and your arms, dear God, why do I remember it just like yesterday?

And then, I wonder if you’re loving, if you’re letting someone love you.  I wonder if you’re touching or who’s touching you.  I wonder who your heart beats for, who’s making your heart beat, who’s got you.

Sometimes, most times, when he’s deep in my walls and I’m closing my eyes and reaching, it’s you above me, you’re helping me reach, you’re helping me get it and get it and get it again.  And it’s your name in my head, your name I see in the darkness of my eyelids, your eyes in my memory, your mouth sucking all the life out of my soul, your teeth biting my lip, your tongue soothing that bite as you moan my name, over and over and over in pleasure.

And when he spills and I adjust my body to accept him, it’s you I’m accepting, you who’s spilling.  And I want to yell out, I want to make you hear me, make you feel me, make you more than just a damn memory.  I want you to feel it, I want you to hear it, I want you to remember.

These damn memories.

They’re here.  They’re not going away.

And I’ll wait.

Until you’re ready.  

For the next time you contact me.  

Lazy Love

Oh, you got that, I don’t wanna,

That I don’t wanna go nowhere, lazy love,

You got that, I don’t wanna,

That I don’t wanna do nothing, that lazy love. ~ NeYo, “Lazy Love.”

He greets me at the door wearing sweat pants and a wife beater.  He has no idea what one of those items does for my thirst, imagine the deadly combo…

He’s barefoot and comfortable and immediately this makes me smile.  He lets me in and half hugs me but I fold into him and he hugs me again, fully, hands tightly around my back like this happens every day…

I can’t stop looking at his arms.  He has no idea how many times his arms have been in my thoughts, how many times those arms kept my legs up in the air, how many times those arms were above my head, how many times I bit into his flesh…

His pants are too big and they slide ever so discreetly over the vee of his torso and goddamn, I think, why doesn’t he tighten that string that’s made specifically for that reason and then I think, maybe he did that on purpose because he wants to tease me and get me on my knees…

His back is strong and sculpted and again, he has no idea about how I feel about strong backs or else he wouldn’t make me follow him but I follow him into the kitchen and watch as he struggles to open up a bottle of wine and it’s clear he doesn’t have to do that often and again, I smile, because he’s doing this solely for me and I think too much and I like to make up stories in my mind and this particular story in my mind in his kitchen is endearing…

It’s not small talk.  It’s like he knows I hate small talk because our conversation flows and our words mingle and already he’s finishing my sentences and I just want to kiss him as I watch his mouth move and his lips, Jesus, his lips…

And I say something that makes him smile and his eyes crinkle in the corner and motherfuck, why do I want to lick his crinkle, why are his eyes so sexy…

He leads me upstairs and I could tell he cleaned up for me, a girl knows when a man gets ready for her and he did, he got ready for me and again, another thought pops into my head and I’m saying this is all too good to be true…

I want nothing more than to lay him down on his neatly made bed, nothing more than to pull those sweat pants down over that vee and have that back under my fingertips and have those arms in between my teeth.  But I don’t.

I sit on the chair in the corner…

Ambition Of A Ride Her

I could enjoy waking up to my cock in your mouth and my balls in your hands, enjoying the tips of your nails over my skin, the veins pulsing in your mouth.  I wanna see those eyes gazing into mine as you crave me, please me, so ambitiously.

Ambitiously?  You’ll be easy to please, hard from the moment I slide you in my mouth, eager and ready to shove all of your length inside my warmth.

See how ambitious that is?  Yes, I’m eager.  Eager to watch you soak my cock with your spit, pulling back just enough so I don’t come.

You want to mess up my face, don’t you?

Nah.  I want to mess up your voice.

Oh.

Yes.  I want to find ways that you can suck all this out of me, throat fuck deep into that mouth baby, lick the shaft, smack your lips on my balls; I want to run my fingers through your hair and pull on it while my cock is fully submerged in your mouth, the tip lodged in the back of your throat, holding on to your head as I fuck your mouth, you delightful fuck, making me come repeatedly.

Wow.  You want to spill that load into my mouth that bad?

Yes.

And I’ll take it.  And once I’ve had enough of sucking you, I’m going to sit this pussy up on you and feel you deep within my walls.  And you’ll be torn because you’ll want to get back into my mouth, but all it makes you do is fuck me harder because you’re so mad at your indecision, that you’ll slam up into me, making my eyes tear and pulling my hair so hard, I’ll cry out.

I’m going to want to fuck you from the front, feel those tits pressed against me.

I know.  Because I’m going to want to feel you press down on me while I run my fingers along your spine, over that curve of your behind, pull you closer into me, deeper.

I want to give you all the sensations; fuck your mouth, play with your clit, suck on your thighs and see where you give up first.  I say you’ll stop sucking, only because the kisses on your thighs would drive you up the wall and you won’t be able to concentrate on my dick.

You’re right.  I won’t.

I’m going to fasten a belt around your throat and make sure you take it all, you delicious fuck.

Jesus.  You can’t do me like this.

I can.  You’re mine to fuck and I will do you as I please.

90 Minutes

  
Ninety minutes of bliss.  Ninety minutes of  mouth and teeth and I asked him, “Will you smile for me, daddy?” and he smiled.  You know how much I love your smile.

And he kissed;  he kissed and kissed and licked and rolled his tongue and I remembered your smile;  remembered your mouth.

His hands explored and his fingers caressed and it was your hands on me, your mouth on me, your body on me.

Non-stop loving, ninety minutes worth of non-stop loving and he was insatiable, pleasing, so eager to please, so eager to get it, so eager to take it and my oh’s were his ah’s and his hands were in my thighs and his love was my breath but his voice, his voice, when he spoke it was your voice.

Ninety minutes.

Ninety minutes of thoughts of you.

Only you.

Always you.

Never you.

Acquainted

Baby you’re no good, think I fell for you, fell for you, I fell for you.


“Come with me,” he said as he took my hand.

He wanted my red lips on him.  He wanted to fill me up with him; everywhere.  I laid across the bed and stretched out over the edge.  Immediately he filled my mouth.

I opened wide and let him.

You got me putting time in, time in, nobody got me feeling this way.  You probably think I’m lying, lying, I’m used to bitches coming right away.

I looked up at him and watched his face.  I watched him as I pleased him slowly, rolling my tongue up and around and over and enjoying every satisfying sound from his throat.

You got me touching on your body.

He climbed over me and rested his body in between my legs.  One light stroke against me and he was inside, making me pull him in deeper.  I wrapped my legs around him and let him take me; short strokes, long strokes, deep strokes, light strokes.

I got you touching on your body.

“Keep that tongue inside your mouth,” he said.  “Don’t let me see it or else I’ll come.”

I bit my lip, bracing myself.  Waves and waves, rolling tides, the ultimate rush crashing over me, in between my legs, over my skin, making my eyes roll behind my head.

“Will you do this forever?  Will you fuck me till I die?  I want this forever.  Can we have this forever?”  I begged.

“Yes,” he replied. “You’ll get this forever.  As long as I’m alive, you’ll get this.”

And he spilled inside me, tongue and mouth and hands everywhere, moans of passion and hunger escaping our lips.

To say that we’re in love is dangerous, but girl, I’m so glad we’re acquainted.

The Weeknd – Acquainted

Just Come Over

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I just want to talk.

I promise not to touch you.  Better yet, I won’t even look at you.

I don’t want to risk looking up into those eyes and being reminded….

So I’ll keep my head down, my eyes low and I’ll just listen; I’ll listen to your laugh when you realize how ridiculous I’m being and I’ll listen to your sighs and your deep breathing.  But I promise I won’t get close enough to hear your breathing.  I won’t even try to inhale your scent.

I just want you near.  I just want you close; close enough to touch, but I won’t touch, I promise I won’t touch but I want you close enough to feel the sensation of this vibe we have, this thing we share.  It’s here.  It’s still here.  I know you know it.  I know you feel it.  I know you feel me.  You.  Feel.  This.

That’s why you need to just come over.  Just come with me.  I promise I won’t touch you.  I’m aching though, physically aching.  When my mind wanders and I remember…..it’s this feeling that needs fulfillment.  You know the feeling….

But I’ll behave.

I’ll keep my hands to myself and I’ll sit away from you but I want you nearby I want you close I want you here so I can see you I just want to see you I just want to hear you please baby I just have to have you here with me but I won’t look I won’t touch I won’t want I won’t I won’t I promise but my heart baby my heart just aches and it’s a horrible feeling and it’s just hurting physically hurting and I just want to be filled with you I want all of you on all of me and I want your scent and your touch and your sweat remember when you sweat baby and you were anxious so anxious and I just wanted to please you I just wanted all your pleasure and I let you have it I let you take it I gave you all of me I gave you all of me for one night baby and I’d give everything to have you push up inside me all the way until my back arches that way and I’m pushed all the way back taking all you have for me baby and hearing you tell me you’re going to come you’re going to come you’re going to….

Just come over.

I just want to talk.