[Mister Saint]: 79.mature.an evening in

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2008-01-17 08:41:46
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I. Genesis

I dress so well for him,
in patterned black-striped pearl.
Bind my untamed hair
with mist-soft hints of spritz
and slide my tingling fingers
into gloves as smooth as me.
I feel so dark attired this way,
so dripping warm and decadent.
I step and shiver, thrilled
as skirts caress my legs
and smoothly pet my naked ass.
I tense as fierce anticipation
milks my darkest lust sensations
from within my torrid, open petals
sparkling wet with woman's dew.
My body begs me,
"Just a taste?" I sigh,
give in to what I crave.
But just a touch, a moment's love
between my fingers and myself.
Outside my man is waiting -

II. Hunting

He lives to say the sweetest things.
"My love, my star, the nighttime
sky is empty next to you."
He loves to watch me blush.

I step into his arms,
my breathing ragged, sticky hot.
We touch, our legs entwine,
my arms enfold his iron neck
and cling - cling! - as kisses
wet my lips and sting
my face, my neck, my cag├ęd breasts.
"Oh god," I sing in disbelief.
Our night is here and now.
His fingers comb into my hair
and clench, and so do I.

His power reaches out for me
and traps my body in its grip.
His kisses mark my lips.
He knows I love to struggle.
He knows that I am his.

III. So we skipped the date tonight...

We barely reach my room alive.
Our fierce impassioned kissing
leaves him scratched across his cheek
and twice we nearly tumble
as we wrestle back and forth.
The door slams shut.
I catch my flying breath -
he's caged me in. I feel a tingle
deep beneath my skin.
"Now," begins my lover
in a gentle, soothing tone,
his eyes commanding me,
demanding that I lay
my body on my bed.
I hesitate; I won't be told.
I want his force, I want
his glistening muscle.
I want bent to his will.

He slips his arm around my waist
and gently, sweetly, parts my lips
with pleading kisses.
I hesitate and step but stay, held
fast within his grip. His kiss
takes flight and fire. My heart
carouses, body shakes, my burning hips
jolt with sex and ache.

I shriek unbidden, shoved
against my bed. He pins me facing down,
my feet still on the floor.
I breathe so roughly, held in place,
a slave to lover's will.
I feel him lift my patterned skirt
and gasp in admiration
at my choice of garments underneath.
I feel so powerless like this,
my body shivers tip to toe.
Exposed to him, my intimates
displayed and soaking, overflowing
wanton, needy, still his loving slave.

I feel his fingertips and nails
explore my gentle cheeks and dip -
oh stars - into my depths.
I squirm, he shoves a little harder on my spine.
"Mine," he whispers, drawing back
to clap his stinging palm
across my ass.
It hurts so wicked sweet, I beg
to him, "oh please, my love, again...!"
His lips attend the blushing red
he lays across my flesh,
to dull the pain I deeply crave.
I lose myself in red and snapping slaps
and part my slippery steaming thighs
and cry, "love, please, inside...!"
His fingers dip again into my petals
drawing streams of glowing nectar to his lips
that kiss and suckle me.
"You belong to me, my love," he whispers,
leaning close to nuzzle just behind my ear.
I can barely hear; his fingers own my concentration.
I smell myself upon his breath.
He makes me know I'm his.

IV. A Love So Pure It Can't Be Seen

He's stripped me to his liking.
My dress laid neatly on the bed
my shoes beneath, my bra beside.
My gloves remain - he has his wants.
I stand as still as stone, my every inch
a living flame. His clothes remain.
"My love," his whispers dance
across my flesh, "I have something for you."
He stands behind and lets his eyes adore
my back, my legs, my hand burned ass.
I blush like sunset, vivid, dark.
I feel a coolness slip across my eyes
and suck a startled breath.
"Relax, my love," I hear his rumbling voice
against my pulsing neck, its timbre
thrilling in the lowering dark.
"I want you just to feel."

V. Bound

Everything in cycles.
Teasing, thrilling passes made
in feint, as if to drop my guard.
My lover's touch is amplified
a thousand times without my eyes'
distraction.
Caresses feather over me,
a kiss, a touch, a squeeze
until he takes me in his arms
and lifts me from my feet.
His lips take mine and kiss me
breathless one more time.

"My love," I hear him coo,
"am I your one and only love?"
His palm surrounds my womanhood
with warmth, and as I purr
he pets my slickness, pets my lust.
"Oh yes," I utter, half in answer,
half in pleasure's grasp.
Something slips around my wrist,
a something soft, a something silk.
He pins my arm to stay my hand.

"My love," he asks again,
his voice half-muffled as he kneels
between my legs.
"Do you want me to set you free...?"
He kisses there, I bite my lip
to stop myself from crying
out. "Oh, no, my love," I whimper
softly, my back a glistening arch.
I feel a pressure building just
below my navel, tingling, singing-
and then he moves away.
I nearly bawl, so close, so close...!
And then I feel him grasp the hand
that cups my tender breast
and wrap a something right around it.

"Love," he chuckles as I tug
in vain against my chains of cloth,
"I told you, you are mine."
I can't believe he's tied my hands
as if I was his prisoner.
I listen, waiting, praying
for his gentle, loving touch
but for a while he stays away.
"Love," I whisper, "love me, please!
Don't make me wonder when!"
I listen for his chuckling voice
but all I hear is click.
His buckles, buttons slipping,
clothing rustling to the floor.
I smile at last and part my lips.
He fills them, kissing sweetly,
even nibbling now and then.

"Lover, please, enough, enough!"
I cry into his hair until his gentle suckling
slows against my quivering chest.
His eyes are fox eyes, gleaming
in the evening bush - I feel their
gaze as if my eyes were free to look.
"Enough, my love? What do you want?"
I bite my tongue, my lip again.
"Please don't make me say," I beg.
Again his lips enfold the hardness
rising from my breast.
"Oh love," I mewl, "I need..."
A gentle pop, a gasp of want.
"You need?" he asks so cattily.
"I need you in me, love..."
His shifting movements shake
my bed. My breath releases,
held in fear of questions he might ask
to tease me past the breaking point.

And suddenly my petals shriek
and quiver, yawning gently
just for him. I feel his hands between
my legs again, his gentle petting
sends me into spasms,
building, rising, warming, burning!
I am a swelling river fenced within
a breaking dam.
I feel him pressing, pressing,
penetration, lust, sensation,
bursts within, without of everything!
It takes so little, after all
the teasing, playing games
to send my body into tremors,
muscles tightening, bucking,
squeezing, stretching over,
lifting, streaming,
screaming, gasping,
gasping...


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