Tagged: Sensuality

HNT: Reflection

7_Mirror, mirrorFrom the plush chair in the corner of the room behind her, she feels his eyes, their molten chocolate coating her every move and curve, their gaze clinging to the black silk as it inches with frustrating slowness down the hollow of her back and past the globes of fair pouting flesh.

Savouring the tease, she controls the smile insisting itself on her lips as well as the impulse to turn around altogether to meet him. Instead she crooks her head ever so slightly, glimpsing large beautiful hands unbuttoning and releasing, rubbing and stroking, a playful grin drawing at his full mouth.

All the while she continues the languid dance, arching and bending, the fabric hissing along calves and kicked off at her ankles, hips rolling, legs spreading, feather light fingers brushing and caressing the electrified skin of her increasingly desperate body.

Sensing her rising impatience and need, he holds himself back, taking pleasure in the mounting anticipation, indulging in the view, truly relishing the moment their mischievous game comes to an end as he crosses the threshold, presses his body against hers and they begin to loose themselves in melting heat and merging skin and the first of countless searching kisses.

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

HNT: Hum

2_Legs_sepiaShe stretches out languorously, foot reaching for the curtain, flooding the bed with soft autumnal daylight. While her body continues to hum from the morning’s decadent play, she soaks up the gentle morning warmth increasingly aware of the renewed intensity rising up inside her.

Requiring more, desiring more, needing to feel the weight of his body bearing down upon her once again, his silky hardness penetrating her heat, she slides her leg back down and across the bed. Her glistening cunt now spot lit in the glow, she patiently awaits his return.

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

HNT: One

This is a first. Of sorts.

He has seen this lingerie and dress before, but never in the flesh, never up close on my bed in the light of day.

Desiring eyes momentarily drive my nervousness away as I lie on my side, the fabric bunching around my thighs, his hand travelling along my legs, taking in the texture of the denim, the silkiness of the lace, the soft swell of my breast.

Smiling hungrily, he reaches back, producing the camera, small and light, beginning once again with the very form that brought us together.

“Don’t be shy,” he tells me. “Show yourself.”

But words seem to fail me. There are merely two circling my mind.

Be gentle…

1_Bed (WP site)(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)

Woman

I am any woman. I am every woman. I am the here and now. I am breath and flesh and heat and skin, curves, softness, pulsating wetness. I am the body he needs to feel again.

I am any woman. I am every woman. I am the vessel he desires. I am craving, I am want. I am alive, I am connected, universal and unique.

I am any woman. I am every woman. I am momentary, temporary, I am forever and a day. I am complexity, simplicity, sensual and animal.

I am any woman. I am every woman. I am my own woman. I am free.

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