Category: Desire

Present Tense

This is all there is. This is all that matters. His body, his words, his carnal desire.

And his hot rumbling voice pleading me to use him up while detailing the countless ways I will be his dirty little fucktoy.

E-male

It begins with an innocent double click. With the attachment finally open, her eyes grow wide, jaw drops, lips part; the space between her legs begins to throb.

Forgetting the public surroundings, she stares unashamedly at the picture-filled screen, moving in as close as she can before the photograph disappears into a mass of coloured pixels.

Standing by the rumpled bed they had marked only a few hours earlier, he is wearing the suit that always makes her swoon. Charcoal single-breasted jacket, crisp white shirt, flat front trousers, heavy leather belt, all topped off with his unmistakably cheeky grin.

And his big strong hand around his growling angry cock.

You

You. Dark hair, chocolate eyes, six foot two. You.

I’ve seen you glancing, glimpsing, looking. I’ve seen you watching, stare unflinching, gaze undressing.

I’ve seen the way your eyes consume my curves, eat up my form. I’ve seen the way they run along my collarbone, around the swell of my breasts, hugging my hips, devouring my legs, my arse, my purring little puss.

I’ve seen the way you shift as I enter the room, the way you lick your lips. I’ve seen the way you teasingly scratch your stomach, fingers trailing down the line of fuzz that leads to the manly musk below.

I’ve seen you too. I’ve noticed you also.

Now what do you plan to do about it?

Touch

He moves up silently behind her, his presence at first a suggestion rather than a certainty.

She closes her eyes and excitedly exhales in anticipation of his touch. One finger languidly traces the strip of her freshly showered skin peeking out from between her girlish pink knickers and lilac tank.

Legs now invitingly parted, she stands eagerly awaiting the next touch.

When she least expects it that same finger hooks and twists itself so tightly into the right side of the waistband her sensitive clit begins to purr.

Need

Standing there, I see him gradually being overtaken by it. I can see it, feel it, crawling through his flesh, rising up to his skin. I can smell it coming off his body.

Suddenly against me, he tries to explain. This is what he has become, he whispers closely, fingertips grazing my neck. This is what he has become against his will, against the reasoning part of his mind. There is nothing but the hunger, the desire, the need.

It is a need, he says gently leaning me into the wall with his overwhelming frame. It is a need and not a want or a wish or a whim that might be pushed down or away. It cannot, will not, be replaced or displaced.

It will not leave him, it will not leave him be. The need transforms, changes, alters beyond all recognition, his mouth murmurs, the tempting weight of his body pressed firmly into mine. As evidentiary proof he places my hand on his rapidly beating chest, carefully guiding it down his stomach to the growing swell below. Pulsing through the fabric prison, he is, at once, hunter and prey, willing victim and rebellious target, give and take.

And how he wants to give and take, he tells me, thumb tracing over my moist and parted lips. Give and take, take and give, now easing my willing legs apart with his own. Take, take, take, his tongue exploring me, consuming me. Give, give, give, grinding his hips slowly, rhythmically.

I need to feel, he breathes hoarsely, my small breasts engulfed by inquisitive hands. Running his generous hardness along my aching sex, he shows me the need to feel the flesh and heat of another.

Softness and wetness urge him on as his hands coil round my creamy thighs to cup a plump and eager mons. My softness, my wetness are his needs. I oblige on both counts as his fingers lightly dance along the sheen and gracefully work their way in.

I need to feel and smell and taste you with everything I am. Breathing hard, our pleasure winding, building, I set him free. Fingers circle his swollen glistening head before my hand works his throbbing length. Urgent teeth rip through foil, his rigid cock swiftly encased in a shiny rubber sheath.

As we stand there against the wall, pressed into each other, needing more, needing it all, I finally break. Now breathing, spoken, embodied, it overpowers me. It reaches out of me, for me. For him. I need you, I need you, I need you inside me, it makes me beg, plead, moan.

Hungrily, I slide my juices along his erect shaft placing him at my slick entry. Greedily, he feeds his thickness into my tight wet cunt as we groan simultaneously.

But before we begin, before we begin moving, thrusting, slapping, fucking, moaning, gasping, grunting, screaming, before we ravenously paw at each other’s flesh forcing in more, more, more, before I demand he fucks me harder, harder, fuck me harder, before we can barely hold ourselves back waiting to hear the sweet cries of come for me, come for me, come all over me, come inside me, before we call out to one another when we finally break, before the voracious beginning and the sated end, we stand perfectly silent and still.

We stand joined together against the wall clutching, throbbing, vibrating, seeing each other, seeing into each other, breathing in one another, breathing as one, skin on skin, skin becoming skin. We stand joined together in a primal, awakening rush.

We stand merged together finally understanding the force of this need. And at this moment it is the only thing that truly matters.

Unrealised

Time shifts, space bends, sound drains away. Suspended in slow motion, their each step an open possibility.

Shameless lust, unconcealed desire. Fixed, dilated stares, small, flirtatious smiles. Brazenly undressing one another as they brush by.

Horn blares, moment shattered. Lost in an instant, both swallowed up by the city crowd.

Songbird

Bundled in his arms as the light faded low, he sang to me. Softly, sensuously.

Soon after he sang into me, breathing the lyrics into my skin, humming the tune into my flesh, as his lips trailed down, down, down my fair body.

Cut

It came as something of a surprise after his tender, sensual kiss, his tongue tracing the outline of my mouth before languidly devouring me. I stood swaying, eyes shut, body tingling, begging for more, as he broke away and momentarily left the room.

Finally opening my eyes I saw him standing before me, blade in hand, a wry smile playing on his lips. Breath quickening, nipples erect, a new surge flooded my already blushing cunt.

Stepping forward he raised a finger to his lips silencing my unspoken words. Running the handle carefully down my cheek, neck and collarbone, he pulled me in to kiss him once more.

Poised at the top of my dress, the light reflected off the cutting edge. Closing my eyes, I surrendered to the darkness and the exquisite sounds of destruction.

Stitch by stitch, tear by tear, a destruction that would leave me bare, open and ready to bend to his will.

Words about Words

They weave a very particular spell, those words of his. Quite unlike any others, they wind themselves into and through my body. Sliding, slithering, caressing, tickling. Ablaze, my body becomes pure sensation. Hungry, yearning, open. Ready. Willing.

With each passing word, each passing day, I find myself wanting. Wanting more. Wanting to be her. Wanting to be the woman who inspires his force, his passion, his reflections.

I know I am not alone. I know there are countless others communing with the page, consuming in the light, devouring in the dark, desirous of the very same.

So I sit and read and yearn and ache while feeling the words. Feeling up his words as if a body laid bare for the taking.

And when I am sated I wonder if my words will ever have that effect. On him.

I live and hope and dream.

Tease

Kneeling behind her, his hardness ready and waiting, he meets her eye in the mirror. On all fours and through a curtain of flaming curls he can see and feel her frustration.

She pushes back ever so slightly but his strong hands on her hips stave her off. She has been teased, mercilessly. The wetness dripping down her legs for the past hour has left its mark on the bed. He runs his hand tenderly over the length of her back and around her fair bottom, which he kisses lightly at first and then so deeply a low moan escapes her body.

She has been teased long enough.

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