Tagged: Lingerie

HNT: Silver

As the rain lashes against the window on this blustery night, he surveys the woman before him, his eyes caressing the pouting flesh of the creature who has tortured him with her desires, who has inspired a hunger and frustration foreign to him until now.

While he aches to reach out and take hold, his body shivering, his thick uncut meat throbbing as the pungent scent of their mutual arousal fills the room, he restrains himself. On this night, there will be no giving in to her. Not easily or swiftly, at any rate. For on this winter’s night, he longs to hear the confession of her own desperation, yearns for the sweet, whispered appeals for his weight, his skin, his kiss, his cock, his come.

Once she surrenders herself with the very words that drew him in, once the fevered need rises up and breaks over her supple form, once he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt her tight little cunt is flowing the nectar most craved, he will scale the metal barrier and join with her; arms snaking, hands exploring, mouth devouring, possessing, partaking and worshiping with his entire being.

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(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)

HNT: Diamonds and Pearls

Keep your diamonds, sapphires, rubies and your pearls
Save your metals precious, your luxury divine
Shield your glistening decadence that all too often blinds

Give me instead their imitation
Dress me rather in their muted relations
In exchange for the most desired of treasures

Grant me his alluring flesh and mind celestial
Offer up the touch, the kiss that sears this passion upon me
The man, the body, the one lover who travels my fair form as no other

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(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)

HNT: Recline

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His commanding hands persuade her lithe body to recline as they trace the contour from her breasts to her silk-sheathed legs, registering the barely visible tremble working its way across her electrified form. Sliding between the soft warmth of her thighs, palms and fingers teasingly graze the available creamy skin before decisively splaying them wide across the expanse of the sofa’s arm.

Hardening flesh now pressed firmly into her nook, his hungry digits work their way beneath the delicate lace, gliding along her slippery plumpness, urgently sinking into the depths of her velvet heat, stroking in and out with sensual force, circling and fondling the core of her purest pleasure. And just as her bliss begins to crest and overtake her, his large frame leans in, eager mouth at the ready, desperate to grasp the sweet sound of seduction escaping her lips.

(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)

Satin Skin

Lingerie_V&AAs my transfixed gaze took in the detail of the garments suspended in the glass case, I wondered about the women who had inhabited their forms, the bodies once swathed in fabrics coarse and refined. I wondered about their curves, their skin, their scent, their sensuality, desires and cravings, my eyes absorbing the shapes and textures, attempting to place my fair flesh within them and within that time and place.

Standing in the shadowy museum light, I willed them to speak their secrets, their stories of love and lust and loss. I willed them to whisper the tales of these women. If only to reassure me of my own place in the world. If only to reassure me that my voracious and often limitless carnality is not merely a product of the here and now, but rather a hunger we carry, we bear, we release through each and every lifetime.

HNT: Slink

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Cosseted indoors at last away from the rainy chill of the night, he moves toward me in a gesture to take my coat. Silently refusing, I languidly slink to the narrow passage illuminated by the glow. Up against the wall, my steely blue gaze meeting his, gloved hands begin to ease, unfasten and release, revealing stockings, corset and little else. Pushing aside the warm woollen layer, soft leather fingers graze the silky mound of my hip, slithering their way to the heat radiating from my naked, eager sex.

And as the hush in the room is broken by our raspy breath, his lustful advancing body, his lids heavy with desire, his hands roughly tugging shirt collar and leather belt, speak to me of only one sure, beautiful thing.

(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)

HNT: The Gift

The sultry, seductive moan of the jazz trumpet winds its way into the cosy room as the muted lamp light casts its enveloping glow. Awaiting his arrival, she takes pleasure in the sensations of the here and now: the plush throw caressing her freshly bathed skin; the faint aroma of a favourite scent clinging to the curve of her neck; the soft lace tickling her hips; the delicate fingers drawing sensual circles on her bare flesh; the butterflies taking flight in and across her electrified body; the steady pulse beginning to thud out its addictive rhythm in her awakening sex.

Surrendering herself to the moment of solitude, she wonders if the demure yet wanton picture she has painted will please him, if the waiting gift will sate his hungry longings, if the familiar woman before him has retained something of her novelty, her mystery.

Snapping her back to the present, the trembled gasp from the doorway dissolves her uncertainty in an instant. Standing tall in the small threshold, a visible shudder rippling through his muscular body, his eyes are simultaneously thankful and greedy, his gaze travelling with a deliberate slowness, consuming every last detail of the scene, of the woman, of the feminine hands skimming the fair terrain, of the heated breath escaping her glistening mouth, of the aching thighs and hips and breasts all straining toward him and his touch.

And just as she can endure the distance between them no longer, he is beside her, shedding his outer fabric layer, joining her warmth, his hands meeting hers in their exploration, his lips lightly taking hold of her silky peaks, his tongue languidly tasting and savouring her own, his strength bearing down upon her fragility, his passion seeking out her velvety essence, their flesh fusing, melting, merging in a timeless lover’s embrace.

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(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)

HNT: Shiver

He takes her by surprise, so much so she needs to steady herself against the wall, the warm, newly showered body now shivering as it meets the chill of the stucco.

From below, his large commanding hands explore the arch of her back and the thin band of black satin across her hips before cupping, possessing then spreading the blushing cheeks to burrow face, nose, lips, tongue into her softness, kissing, licking, slurping, seeking out her juicy essence, gorging on the plump pinkness, savouring the shocks of pleasure progressively weakening her knees.

Rising to his feet, impatience finally breaking over his sweaty naked flesh, he spins her round to face him. For a brief moment, eyes roam and absorb the damp tousle plastering her neck, the rosy nipples beckoning for attention, the arms stretching out wide, at once bracing and inviting. But as the throb in his groin snaps back his attention, he lifts her slight body, breathlessly nudges the soaked g-string aside and in one mouth-watering thrust impales her with his thick, pulsating cock as his greedy mouth swallows the sweet moans of affirmation.

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(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)

HNT: Wanton Woman

Looming large over his pliant little toy, he contemplates her fate, relishing the dominance that has torn its way through his skin like a ravenous animal, instantaneously taking his stiff ready cock to dripping and diamond-hard.

Captivated by her wanton display, her chest rising and falling with each sharp intake of the thick, pungent air filling the room, the damp black silk between her splayed thighs somehow glistening in the low light, he struggles with the intense need to touch her fair skin and mark it as his own, to maul and paw and finger her to a loud, thunderous height, sinking the digits slippery with womanly nectar into her mouth to suckle and cleanse, joined shortly after by his throbbing rigid shaft.

For the moment, he resists giving in to her. And himself. Leaning in, he inhales the scent of his prey, nose hovering over the line from neck to collarbone to shoulder, his flesh at an almost painful remove from her own. In a voice hoarse with barely contained desire, he outlines precisely how he will make her wait, the craving to see her long and hunger and beg even greater than his own immediate carnality.

Kneeling between her legs and roughly shredding the flimsy fabric concealing her modesty, he tells her this delayed gratification will force her to confront her own darkness, the unspeakable acts she has only ever contemplated alone in the shadows, the insatiable vampiric lust for the meat of men in all its variety, the unrelenting, cunt clenching necessity to both possess and submit.

And as he moves up along her sex, branding his own body with the liquid heat of her passion, he knows, without doubt, this night will ultimately compel her to honour the alluring woman at the heart of this sexual multiplicity.

8_from above(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)

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