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This is why I couldn’t help it...vanilla, but still hella fun
Posted:Mar 16, 2019 8:30 am
Last Updated:Mar 16, 2019 8:31 am
22 Views

He invited me over for the first time in more than a month. Part of me was surprised because our last real correspondence after that visit didn’t go well. That was when we discussed how much he loved being with me but that our time together was so limited that it wasn’t enough. But he sent me a message telling me that he was missing me, and I replied in kind. I dropped everything and drove to him at once. It was going to be a brief Visit as it was and I wanted every last moment I could get with him. He let me know that the door was open and he was already lying in his bed. I entered his apartment, raced up the stairs, and crawled into bed beside him, stopping long enough to undress. I lay up against him, my head on his shoulder his arm wrapped around me. My hand stroking his chest, and his hand rubbed my back. At once I made a move to check his hardness. Stroking him gently his cock stood at attention. But then I put my hand back down. I am always in such a hurry. I never stop to enjoy these moments. So I just lay there for a while and waited to see what his next move would be. Finally, I could feel his eyes on me, so I tilted my head and asked him what he was staring at me for. He smiled and laughed at me and said “nothing.” And then he rolled me toward my back pressed against me and began kissing me with the sweetest of kisses. The perfect set of lips playing with mine. Before long, my legs opened and the wetness invited him in. It felt far more like lovemaking than any interaction we’ve had before. It felt as though he wanted to savor every moment inside me. No rushing, no hurrying, no crazed position changes for either of is. Sometimes his head was low enough to suckle my nipples, and sometimes he was far from me enough that I could watch his face, expressions of concentration and pleasure as he dove in and out of me. I closed my eyes to just enjoy the moments, thinking how perfectly we fit together. And then I opened my eyes again to see him looking down at me. Again I asked him what he was thinking, taking great delight in the look on his face. Again he smiled and he said he was just enjoying the moment. Finally, I could feel him quickening, and he drew his face down to mine again and began kissing me as his body gave way to release. Again I thought about those perfect lips and about the exquisite pleasure I received every moment they touched mine. After several more minutes, he collapsed next to me, my head found his shoulder again, and we lay there, drifting off to sleep. I awakened early this morning, needing to keep an appointment. He asked if I was really leaving. I replied in the affirmative and reminded him that he could invite me back as often as he wished. As I record this, the tears burn my eyes. My lips are pressed against his lips still, and I’m reliving that feeling of perfection. Why does perfection have to be such a rarity?
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I can’t help myself
Posted:Mar 15, 2019 7:28 pm
Last Updated:Mar 16, 2019 5:06 am
27 Views

He told he missed me
Of course he added it was a sexual kind of missing
So I knew his heart and soul weren’t aching
Merely his cock
Nevertheless, I dropped everything and ran to him
I understood that type of desire
My pussy ached with desire since the last time he filled me
But it was also the case that my eyes longed to see his smile
My body yearned just to be near him.
And my heart, if my heart were fully involved, felt full by this invitation
I know it’s a different kind of longing,
The one he asked me to satisfy and the many I felt
still I dropped everything and ran to him
still I gambled on the idea he wanted more
but could only convey a carnal desire
That was merely the false front that hid everything else

For A
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Getting something off my chest
Posted:Mar 14, 2019 12:36 pm
Last Updated:Mar 16, 2019 8:54 am
155 Views

It is confession time again. I am currently sleeping with someone for whom I have absolutely no physical attraction. It’s not that I don’t find him drop dead gorgeous or that his earlobes don’t match. No, I mean I have absolutely no physical desire for him at all. I am OK with him doing things to me as long as he does them well, but I have no desire to put my mouth on him. I have no desire to put my hands all over his body. I have no desire to even look at him naked. When I am with him, I completely detach myself from the fact that he is who he is. I’ve been naked with him twice now, well, three times if you count that one time when he gave me a massage and left empty handed. I have had his hands roaming every inch of my body, and I think to myself he can put his hands on me and his mouth on me, and if he does a good job with those things, then maybe he can put his penis in me, but I cannot offer any reciprocity other than to receive his cock in my ever ready pussy. And while I feel slightly guilty about this, he seems to be quite OK with it all, especially since getting off is no issue for him whatsoever...but that’s a whole different story.
9 Comments
Perspective (under construction)
Posted:Mar 10, 2019 10:08 am
Last Updated:Mar 21, 2019 8:56 am
98 Views

I always hated it when I felt he was ignoring me. I hated when I would call or text and receive no response. It was always more that he was busy rather than ignoring me, but it made me feel alone and unimportant just the same. I tried to never complain, though. It wasn’t in my nature. And I never asked to see him, either. I just waited patiently and anticipated my reward. I never wanted to drive him away. Once, I asked him if he could make some time for me soon, but I let it go when he didn’t respond. And then one day he invited me over. I drove to see him filled with anticipation. He opened the door to me and allowed me to enter. He insisted that I get naked right away, but instead of making love to me, he tied my hands behind my back, stood me in a corner, placed a ball gag in my mouth and a blind fold over my eyes. He then proceeded to go about his business for the day. He answered emails and returned phone calls. He was, at this point, truly ignoring me. Instead of being disappointed, however, my pussy had never been wetter. My body ached with longing. My need for him grew. I didn’t feel humiliation and shamed. I felt desired and desirable. I knew he would take the time to satisfy me before too long, and I knew that if he went so far to prove a point, it was because he really wanted me.
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Is it game on? Or is it game over before it started
Posted:Mar 8, 2019 9:23 pm
Last Updated:Mar 11, 2019 3:33 am
179 Views

What a wicked game to play
To lead me on
To take me home
To disrobe me from the waist up
To lick and suck my nipples until the rest of me was ready to submit
To tie up my breasts with the loveliest blue rope
To sit me down on your lap
To rub your hand against the fabric covering my swollen clit
And then to release me from your grasps
And subtle bondage
How wicked of you to tease me until I was ready to let you have it all
To make my pussy wet and dripping, throbbing and aching with need
only to send me home
Unfulfilled and longing for more...
So ummmm, do you think we can do it all again tomorrow?
5 Comments

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