For a touch… Just one touch… For a touch of your noir…
For a moment, for an hour, for a day, a week, a lifetime… For your hands, your lips, your mouth upon me… For your passion dark, abandoned, seething… For the body, for the flesh throbbing, insistent, incessant… For the man, for the beast, for you here in my bed, possessing the heat of my arching form, your dripping cock embedded to the breathtaking hilt in my sweet cunt…
For a touch… Just one touch… For a touch of this noir…
The time has come, lover. I have waited far too long.
My desire for you is threatening, fevered; my patience threadbare, worn.
I need you – need you now – to move in close, to shed your jacket, loosen your tie, to bind me, possess me, to take control, to run your hands along the perfumed nakedness lingering at your door, to expose this flesh, this smooth sex dripping its desperate heat, to bare this cunt to your carnal darkness, to your gaze and your fingers, to your hard voracious cock, to the parched mouth thirsty for a taste, to seize the body here, the seductress defiant, the woman yielding, to kiss and grasp and fuck and hold the one existing for you, for you, your pleasure, your bidding.
If I rise up, if I reach into the light, if I breach the boundary unravelling us, if I caress the margin on high, will you be waiting, will your hands take hold of mine, will you ease my supple form into the promise of the pure indigo sky, will you take me in your arms, enfold my nakedness in yours, will you ignite this desiring soul, this yearning flesh, this sensual woman for evermore?
You’re the sweetest honey
The most bitter junk
The addiction I cannot shake
It is your voice, your voice that shakes me from my dreaming; it is the voice hot and urgent that returns long before you appear to claim me. It is your voice, your voice, its rich accent, its echo, that sinks deep into the sensual curve gasping in rapture and ecstasy, that fills the place inside me where you should be, that enslaves then tears this woman here to cruel and easy shreds.
Slink in to see this week’s delectably sinful players…
From the moment his eyes fell upon her, he knew.
From the moment the heady blend of her scent and perfume overwhelmed the room, the very air he drew deeply into his lungs, her clear yet provocative gaze holding his as introductions were swiftly dispensed, her full, wanton lips unsealing themselves initially with a sultry sigh before she casually spoke her greeting and his name, from the moment she shook his hand with a firmness at odds with the sensual eroticism of the parting gesture that saw the slender forefinger of her delicate hand trail its way from the centre of his palm to the fleshy tip of his middle digit, eager to electrify his body, reluctant to break away from his strength and his touch, he knew.
He knew she was nothing but trouble.
She was the kind of trouble he had conjured in his daylight reverie and those visions he couldn’t help but indulge as his hard cock ached during the long and lonely night, his unfulfilled fantasies coming to vivid, sensate life to create an insatiable ideal, a truly rapacious woman whose passions would rival and ultimately overshadow his own, whose hunger and cock lust tore at her slight body as the clock struck his hour of the wolf, compelling her to wildly caress the naked gleam of her skin, to clutch at her pert breasts, to tease open her lips and sink two fingers into her sodden cunt so deep she cried out like an anguished animal in the dark.
Now as she stands before him, her back pressed hard into the office wall, her aroused nipples spot lit in the afternoon sun in a way that leaves him craving to take each into his mouth and kiss and lick and suckle until she finds herself prematurely on pleasure’s edge, he wants and needs everything, every single desire rushing through his mind, plucking at his ravenous body, he wants and needs everything and nothing more than to slide himself selfishly into her clutching velvet depths, to fuck her hard and fast against the cold stucco with her legs wrapped tight around his waist until she screams his name, to cover her entire naked body in kisses light and playful, forceful and bruising, to make love to her with a sensuousness that will curve her supple form into an ecstatic arc, that will leave her breathlessly shivering for more, to have her come hotly over of his naked cock, to scorch his glans with her lust, to stain the suiting as a reminder of her presence in the here and now, he wants and needs nothing more than to relinquish all control, to damn caution and consequence.
And so he does just that.
With his throbbing shaft in hand, he slowly closes the space between them, each step surrendering him to the trouble completely.
These lips, they long to part but not to speak; they yearn to unseal the warmth within, to savour, worship, to devour every curve, every throbbing vein, every silken hollow, every morsel of your flesh, every pearl of cream, every drop glistening, to brush softly along the bronzed gleam of your skin, teasing, coaxing, taking you to the very edge, whispering, sighing into you nothing but desire pure and sensual, nothing but this carnal passion’s heated breath, the maddening craving words can never quite grasp and hold, the need to taste your sweetness, to feed upon your musk, drawing you in completely, drowning willingly in your scent, your libations, your come, kissing up between your thighs, licking languidly the long, muscular line to the torso sculpted and dressed in the black wiry curls these fingers ache to caress, to the hard thick cock lurching violently at the merest hint of this slippery little point, the hips, the cock reaching up, reaching out for more, for more of this rapacious tongue, for more of this scarlet kiss, for more of the hot clutching wetness you know a sign of the true hunger pulsating cruelly between my legs, the other lips plump and hungry for the merging this exquisite act inspires, the other fiery gloss soaking in blushing waves the finest of satins and laces, the most ordinary of cottons, overflowing the bounds and drenching the tops of my thighs with their want, with this cock lust, with my need for your meat, for your body beneath me, for the arms that will possess me and place me, for the hands that will assert their strength and guide me onto the naked uncut flesh impatient to impale me to the moaning hilt, for the man that will fuck me with a sensuous brutally, that will fuck me hard, that will fuck me hard into a breathtaking silence, that will fuck me hard back into the blare, that will fuck me hard until we scream, until we break.
It begins on this night.
It begins on this night with a word, with a look.
It begins with one syllable, more growled exhalation than utterance coherently spoken, released from your lips in a way that ignites the crisp air hanging low, that has me struggling to contain my desire, my need to reach out and merge this soft, slippery heat, that has my lithe form silently trembling, betraying every craving on its surface, every passion deep within, my heart pounding hard against my breast, my nipples straining at the cups of the ebony lace, yearning for your kiss to trace, to taste, to take hold and feast.
It begins with your gaze dark and molten, with the savage, rapacious carnality that penetrates this sexual soul to the core, that unveils this flesh for you and you alone, sliding off the weight of the velvet shielding my scant nakedness, compelling my hand to snake its way down the tautness of my belly, down the skin prickled and aching to the lattice of silk already sodden, to the darkening fabric and liquid lust scorching the skin of my smooth mound, this breath sharply taken as my delicate fingers ease away the threads to expose my gleam to the light, to your sight, to tease the clitoris scarlet and throbbing, sinking with a moan and a whimper into the hot, clutching depths that will soon be perfected by your thick, hard, voracious cock.
It begins with the fever, with the need in our bones, with the hunger screaming for the blood and the pulse and the skin and the heat of the other, with the crazed awareness of the futility of resistance, with the knowledge this passion will live and feed and transfigure, with the knowledge this moment will endure, will never truly end.
It begins on this night. It all begins on this night.
She meets his eye and only then begins her sultry serpentine recline; her glowing skin roused and somehow soothed by the plush velvet cord beneath, her body a delicate and supple arch slowly, deliberately sinking, laying bare her lust, playing out an enduring seduction, an attraction that has her flesh open and ready, always wanting and awakened.
Yet all the while she yearns, hungers for him to shatter this erotic measure, to take and possess her in a way that erases all lingering doubt about the certainty of his desire, to have him push her back a little roughly, his urgency rising as he tears to easy shreds the lace adorning the modesty throbbing, aching to be anything but, his mouth greedily devouring the slick of her pouting sex, his beard lightly scrapping a path up the feminine line for his lips to suckle violently on the hard, rosy nipple before entering her with a groan and fucking her with hard, deep, steady strokes that leave her breathless, trembling as each successive orgasm strikes through her like a bolt, his own release deferred until she cries she can take no more, until he unlocks his gleaming naked uncut cock from her embrace and anoints the lips of her cunt and the tautness of her belly with his searing come, the rained pattern of his seed the only filigree, the only adornment she truly craves and needs.
As I stand here, my desire pulsing, throbbing slick between my legs, as I stand here imagining the warmth of your dark gaze in place of the cold, hard stare of the lens, as I stand here breathlessly aching, a sheen of lust and impatience prickling my fair skin, I wonder, I wonder, I wonder if you realise what you do to me, if you know your true effect.
Do you know I want and crave and need you in more ways than words can ever dare express? Do you know how I yearn to trail my soft lips over and about you, to devour every pulsing vein, every smooth hollow and wiry curl, every inch of your glistening skin and flesh? Do you know how I long to draw the scarlet drapes and cosset our naked bodies away, to fuck you and make love to you in this secluded and timeless cocoon, far from the world we know, far from the personas we assume, to fuck you with the passionate intensity running hot and oily through these veins, to arch myself over your imposing form, to come with a scorching rush over your greedy cock, to milk the seed my velvet heat covets, to feel your body tremble and shudder as you possess me as yours, as I scream your name? Do you know how I hunger to take you, expose and bare you in the full glare of the light, the curtains drawn back, this room our stage, the prying eyes on the street, the curious gazes watching raptly, consuming our entwined bodies, the sight of the carnal beast who lurks within you impaling my sweet little cunt from behind, the pounding of flesh, your fingers digging into my hips, your shaft emerging gleaming and bright, my moans, your groans ringing out through the hush and their silence, your fist in my curls, your mouth finally seeking my kiss as you drive into my soul, into my molten depths as no man has done before this moment of bliss?
