It is the flash of charcoal suiting that initially catches her eye; it is the detail of his cuff, the link, the starched white cotton around the strong wrist and large hand that causes her gaze to stray, that draws her along the path up to his stubbled chin, chiselled nose and molten stare.

But it is his thumb, gingerly and sensuously caressing, stroking, tracing the peaks of his lip, which sends a rippling surge through her spine, which sets the blush high on her cheeks, which leaves her breathlessly, achingly yearning to feel the maddening lightness of his touch.

He lingers in the doorway, his muscular chest rising and falling, his thick meat progressively hardening, as he drinks in the woman craved as no other, as he takes in the sensual curve of her mouth, the heady scent of her perfume, the shiver rippling through the flesh wordlessly calling out for his touch.

And as he crosses the threshold, his arms encircling her waist, his eyes gazing into the deep, their bodies finally merging as one, she exhales his name along with her heat, her yearning finding its voice, her desire finding its mate, her passion finding its home.

(click)

Bound to the chair behind her, his chest rising and falling, erect cock glistening in the low afternoon light, he has no other option than to watch as she climbs onto the bed and begins the task of shedding the ebony lace from the fair body trembling with unexpressed desire.

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

Before she finally takes her leave from him, she reaches into his trousers, delicately scoops a large creamy drop of his newly released passion and carefully shines her pink, upturned mouth.

And as she strolls home with the autumnal sun warming her spent and marked body, she slowly and deliberately licks the peaks of her lips savouring every last trace of his delicious gloss.

When my own darkness descends, when I can no longer make sense of my place in the world, I find comfort in the shadows of others. In the words that speak of love and loss and passion and pain. In the words that light up the screen and ink the page. In the words that tear me apart and put me back together.

She climbed into bed that night without showering, undressing slowly in the dark, retracing his path. As each discarded piece fell at her feet, the scent of him rose up to meet her, flooding nose, mind and sex with the fresh memory of their meeting.

Peeling off the minute black g-string covered in his dried creamy seed, she ran her long, delicate fingers back and forth along the renewed moistness hoping her body had retained enough of his slippery goodness for the pleasure of her midnight treat.

Thighs spread and hands grasping two curls of the platinum metal, she kneels for him at the head of the bed. As she arches her back, the soft light streaming in from the other room falls across the curves of her bare petite form. Climbing up behind her, he kisses up the length of her back to her neck, their mouths and tongues at last meeting, melting and merging as he presses in his hard nakedness. With one strong smooth hand around her pert breast and the other slowly feeding his thick pulsating cock into her dripping sex, their wait is finally over.

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.

One simple gesture. One enticing move. One brush of his fingers across his stubbled cheek. One glide of his hand along the curve of a neck. One insistent touch from his chest to his hip. One hand resting short of his visibly throbbing sex.

One simple reaction. One inviting response. One rush of heat, one quickening pulse. One sharp breath freed from blushing parted lips. One teasing stroke of her sweet heaving breasts. One aching dewy place as she impatiently looks on.

Taking advantage of her momentary solitude, she heads to the mirror. The reflective glass frames a rising blush on the creamy cheeks at the base of her arching back. Lightly stroking the newly tender skin, her fingers find the just visible outline of his hand as a small smile forms on her lips.