Scintillectually Yours

It will forever remain a mystery why we decided to ascend the mountain to your dad’s cabin immediately upon my arrival at the airport. After 5 weeks apart, both of us were twitchy and childish in the back seat, your brother shooting us impish looks in the rearview mirror as I repeatedly removed your hand from my upper thigh in order to concentrate (somewhat) on his girlfriend’s attempt at small talk. I was enduring a heady mix of ebullience at being together again and a sense of physical desire so deep I hurt. I stared out the window and allowed your hand in mine, our fingers entwined, that one point of contact between us electric.

A general melée ensued as we parked the car and all clambered out to retrieve various bags, a crust of new fallen snow breaking like glass beneath our boots, covering our jeans with fine, white powder; the suggestion of late night sledding bandied about. We were directed to the larger of the two guest rooms. Unusual for you, as you normally left the room with the attached bath to your brother. I entered the bedroom in wonder—the clear winter sunlight bouncing off the crystalline whiteness outside filled the room with light. It would hardly have been appropriate to shut the door for some long awaited private time, but both of us were aching to get at each other and we came crashing into a corner together, our lips locked in hunger, as your dad appeared in the doorway.

We waved off his embarrassed apologies and smirked at each other as we followed him into the living room. The next several hours became an excruciating exercise in self-control. Lively family conversation was followed by hearty bowls of stew and crusty French bread; the mountain air always heightened my senses and everything seemed to smell better, taste better. The clock on the mantel ticked away so slowly, I wondered when it would ever be appropriate to excuse ourselves…and all the while your hand held fast to mine, your calloused fingers toying with the tips of my very soft ones. That single point of electricity building to a fevered pitch.

Finally, gratefully, yawns were acknowledged and everyone started to move on to their rooms. We said our goodnights and blessedly closed our door behind us. You pulled me into you immediately. Our hands everywhere, our fervent kisses covered each other’s lips, faces, necks. I stopped short as I heard conversation from the next room. You mumbled something about paper thin walls into my shoulder blade as your hands reached under my sweater. Paper thin? I felt as though we were sharing a room with your brother and his girlfriend! Distractedly, I wondered if they’d been constructed with spit and toilet paper.

My musings were short-lived as we reached the bed, still joined to each other, and I sat down hard on it. The bedsprings immediately sounded their alarm and I groaned inwardly. I stood back up as we started to pull each other’s clothes off. The room was slightly chilly, moonlight spilling in from the surrounding windows. We were frantic to be as close as we could possibly be. The air itself filled with our sexual/emotional/spiritual connection. We whispered and giggled at our predicament. Clearly the bed was off limits, at least for some serious fucking, and now our heads whipped around the room looking for a place to satiate our overwhelming urges.

I had your face in my hands and fell against the wall with an audible thud. Your brother called in from the next room asking if everything was all right. We stifled our laughter as you reassured him that we were fine, making up some story about tripping over the woven cotton throw rug. Our frustration was becoming palpable.

Now you began to express your keen desire to fuck me. Your wanting so powerful that your cock, still restrained in your duffle bag on the floor, fairly stood at attention all on its own. You hastily gathered your things and ducked into the bathroom as I whispered hurry, hurry. I shed the last of my clothes and stood there, my arms folded about myself, the former heat of the excessive wetness between my legs growing colder in the night air. I grabbed for your cock the second you re-entered the room. That hurt, that ache, was stronger than any I could have imagined. You grabbed the thick quilt from the bed and threw it upon the floor, both of us sinking into it. I ran my hands the length of your taut body, sighing with the exquisite reunion of my nails to your flesh. You groaned as you watched me move down your torso, my eyes upon you, my tongue darting out to wet my lips just before I drew your cock into my mouth—instantly swallowing you down the back of my throat before pulling back up again. Hungry. I was so hungry.

I shushed you as you begged to fuck me. As much as you loved to watch your cock in my mouth, the wanting to be inside me was all-encompassing. I acquiesced. Pleading wasn’t necessary. I was waiting, wanting, ready. I pulled a few pillows off the bed and you understood that the only way we could conceivably pull this off was to cushion yourself on the floor while I lowered myself down upon you. You sighed and I gasped. I threw my head back and tried so hard to stifle my normally exuberant moans as I rode you hard, your hips bucking underneath me, both of us trying desperately to become a single entity. I rocked my pelvis back against you, forcing your balls into your clit (so hard, so hard) and you bit back the noises rising from deep within you. I supported my weight in your hands, clenched tightly in mine. That force of pressure between us heightened everything erotic. My sole focus became my cunt, filled with your cock, and as you fingered my clit to orgasm, I wept with the joy of release, of all those weeks of barely satisfactory phone sex, of being one with you again.

In that release, I forgot for just one second where we were and began a keening moan of ecstasy that was preempted by your hand upon my mouth. My eyes flew open in horror as I registered our surroundings. We both became lost in paroxysms of laughter muffled into the pillows beneath us.

For hours we stayed there, upon that gleaming wood floor, the moonlight striking the sharp angles of your body, the soft curves of mine. We navigated the waters of knowing each other again until we finally hit the wall of no more. As we climbed, exhausted, into the soft expanse of the ample bed, you make a move to unclasp your harness. I reached out and stayed your hand. You understood and climbed into bed behind me. I tucked my ass into the hollow of your groin and your cock slipped easily into me as your right hand reached around and cradled my left breast. Our breathing slowed, deepened, and we sighed our unending love for each other into that still night.

My darling DPR (the DreadPirateRoberts) wrote this to me and gave me express permission to post it this Wicked Wednesday. Not only did it afford me time in my already jam-packed schedule this week, it also provided me with much food for thought for her upcoming visit. (For those of you that don’t know the back-story go HERE. It has been almost 8 years since we’ve seen each other, close to 20 when last we were together as, somewhat, of a couple.) Yes, Virginia, we WILL be shopping. I do hope you enjoy the vivid image her writing conjures as much as I enjoy envisioning that which I long for.

My mind is an ADHD head-storm of visions of us…visions of this journey we are taking and the emergence of my cock. After hours of talking and laughing, we are sitting on your couch. I move to my knees on the floor in front of you. I take off your shoes and begin to caress and rub your feet. Using both hands with greater pressure in my thumbs, I move up your legs, massaging them. Where your thighs meet your cunt, I press my thumbs along your tendons, then move them into the small between your tendons and your mons. I press and massage you, moving down your legs and back up, pressing against your tendons and the edges of your mons. You press your heels into me, trying to pull me into you. I take your legs into my hands and place them back onto the floor. You lean forward to take my face into your hands and kiss me. Just as your lips touch mine, I tongue you lightly and pull away, pressing you back into the couch. I continue to massage and rub your legs, always returning my focus to the place between your mons and the tendons that run up your thighs and into your muscles. Your breath quickens…as does mine. I lean forward and press my chin against you and you moan ever so slightly—you can feel my hands through your jeans, the pressure of my chin on your clit. I can hear the change in your breathing as you pull at me again with your legs. I pull my face back and massage your legs down to your calves and back again. I press my thumbs against you, rubbing you through your jeans, feeling the wetness that is growing there.

I lean up to kiss you, bite your lips gently while pressing you back with my left hand as my right hand works at the button, then the zipper of your pants. The soft moans you make move through me like fiery water. I ask you to lift your ass so that I can pull off your jeans. It is hard for you to relinquish the control you normally cling to so tightly—evidence of your love for me. Your jeans are on the floor. Through the lace panties you are still wearing I can see you are open, waiting; the lace, your cunt, are wet with your longing and I rub my cheek into your desire before I pull the barrier away. I am gazing into your openness. The breath rises in me as I try to maintain my concentration, try not to hurry. I place my mouth into you, nearly inhaling you, and trace your clit with my tongue…a wanting moan escapes you. I raise up and reach under the couch for the box we have hidden there and hand it to you. My new cock is waiting there. Together, we pull off my button-flies, strap me, and smile at each other in the playfulness of this preparation. You pull at my cock and we both watch as I ease into you. I watch with great pleasure as I move into you and we build a rhythm. My cock is wet with you, your cunt is wetter and wetter as the cone of wanting builds between us. I am wet. My cock slides in and out of you and I am taken into you with it. something has happened as we move together, breath hastening. The balls are rubbing against me; my cock moves in you and your legs are wrapped around me pulling me and I watch with a desire unknown to me except with you…the sensation of it all grips me: it is me and not me; mine and not mine; somehow, it has become ours. Yet it is mine. My thighs are soaked with the joy of both of us. The quickening increases in you and just as you are ready to come, I slow my pace and pull out.

With both arms, I lay you down on the couch and place myself between your legs. You begin to move into me. But I stop you. I pull at your shirt until it is gone. I can see your nipples hard and erect beneath the lace of your bra. I release one breast and I am suckling you, biting softly at your nipple while I massage and caress the other breast. My breath is hot and fast. You are asking me to enter you again. But I do not. I am lost in you and drag my face down your belly to your cunt—again, your clit is in my mouth; I am tonguing you ever so slowly. You begin to move your hips and I raise myself up, move my arms under you and roll you over, pushing you up on the arm of the couch.

You are suspended from the arm of the couch. Your upper torso free of support. There is nothing for you to hang onto, nothing for you to grab except for my hands: you reach back and let me take your hands into mine, arch your back and allow me to hold you. I enter you again, pulling you into me, holding you safely while I penetrate you with my cock…My Cock—the cock that is covered with your desire and mine; the cock that enters you, pulls back and enters you again, moving harder and faster until, nearly screaming, you come. And, I am right behind you, pulling you tight, moving inside you. The shear desire for you has driven me nearly to coming—it is only made stronger by the rubbing and pressing of these balls against my clit: my cock, in you, moving with you, stimulating me as well. You come and I am coming behind you…there is an explosion of long awaited reunion that nearly shakes the room. We shudder with the power of it, until we relax and lie back together.

You are in my arms where you have belonged for so long. I am holding you. You nestle yourself against me and we talk. The waiting, the years of separation are over. Now, there will be time for this…for other things as well.

I love watching you watching me.

Speeding down 495 I had butterflies in my stomach in anticipation of my plans. I wasn’t sure I could go through with it. I collected my cool while you were in the shower. Sat in your swivel chair, legs crossed, black pencil skirt riding high, white shirt open just enough. I knew you’d like it. And you did. I kept pushing you away your hands kept straying under my skirt. Wanting it now. Impatient. But I had promised to torture you and however silly I felt I wanted to do this slowly.

I love watching you watching me.

Feeling Love by Paula Cole. That song makes me wet whenever I hear it.

“You make me feel like a candy apple
All red and horny
You make me feel like I wanna be a dumb blonde
In a centerfold, the girl next door
And I would open the door and…
I’d be all wet
With my tits soaking through this tiny little t-shirt…
That I’m wearing
And you would open the door and tie…
Me up to the bed…”

I can’t help but move to that music. That rhythm gets under my skin, crawls between my thighs, I’m oblivious to everything but you, your unwavering gaze, your leg twitching from anxiousness to get to me. You make me know I’m sex itself. You bring out the absolute whore in me. I want to be everywhere at once. Everything you’ve ever dreamed of doing you can do to me. With me. I am yours and yours alone.

When I come near you, intending to prolong this prelude, I find I can’t. I need your mouth on my mouth, your hands on my body, my nails down your back. Those arms. Oh God those arms. When we hit the floor and you rip off my heels and my thigh high stockings and that black lace thong my brain goes numb and all I know is you and your touch and your kisses and your tongue on my clit and my fucking hell I’m coming already and I feel like an 18 year old boy who blows his load before he even gets his pants off.

You do that to me. You make me come in wave after wave after wave. Always coming. So fast and so hard and I’ve lost all powers of speech I’m just one moan after another because you feel so fucking good inside me. The way my eyes close instantly and against my will and my back arches involuntarily the minute you put your fingers inside me. Whatever you do you do it well. Two, then three, four and I’m aching for it all. That sting and burn as I breathe my way through the widest part of your hand and the exquisite warmth as you curl inside me and rock against that spot that drives me. Drive me.

And I love watching you watching me.

You kiss me so long and with such passion that my lips are swollen and bruised. I love kissing you. You have these lips that were just made for mine. Like you’ve been waiting for my lips to fit perfectly with yours. Your tongue playing in my mouth. You don’t always know that I watch you when we kiss. I like to see you. And sometimes I just close my eyes and lose myself within those endless kisses. I love that you kiss me constantly. When we make love you keep those lips on mine and it feels that much more intimate. That much more sacred. I want to lose myself inside you. Deep into your mouth, our lips hard against each other. The way we want each other is like a hunger that can’t be sated.

I move down the bed and push you away. Run my hands down my own body over my breasts up and down my thighs across my stomach finally reaching into my pussy you can’t take your eyes off me and your breathing is heavy with frustration.

I love watching you watching me.

I can never last long this way. I want you too badly. I’d like to tease you, taunt you, make you want me more than you’ve ever wanted anyone or anything in your life but it isn’t my hands I want down there. You watch me lick my fingers slick with the wetness that you bring me to in a never ending flow. Always wet. Always hard. Always swollen open ready willing able.

The stamina and flexibility, the tangle we get ourselves into is amazing. The fact that six or seven hours goes by and it feels like mere minutes. It’s never enough. I can’t get enough. I want you all the time. In me on me around me fuck me suck me spank me – yes you hit me hard and leave deliciously burning welts on my ass and you know I’m dripping from the pleasure that mixes so well with the pain. And when I can’t take it any more I need you inside me. Your cock, so hard. You fuck me like no one before and no one again. When I straddle you and lean back, my back arched and my head dropping behind me I know you are watching me and I know how much it turns you on.

And I love watching you watching me.

When we finally have to sleep I curl up in a ball on top of you, my head tucked into your shoulder, your arms, God those arms, underneath me. And when I wake up, the early morning sun streaming into the window. I look over at you…

And I love watching you watching me.

And so it begins again. And again. And again.

Kudos to Ang, the Sweltering Celt, for her website’s new home, and for giving us this week’s MFM theme: Breathing.

This was a control issue.

I wanted to pull out all of my usual maneuvers. She wasn’t having any of it. After months of talking every day across the thousands of miles that separate us and more than a week of being in each other’s presence during her month in the States, I was now straddling her lap, my cleavage at eye level. She knows me too well for having known me such a short time. She anticipates my moves and shakes me off. Her eyes gleam, half-lidded from the bottle of wine we’ve shared, a smile plays at her lips. Those lips. I want them on mine. Now.

I always get what I want when I want it. I’m like Veruca Salt that way (not the band, the other one). But she isn’t giving in and I’m frustrated. She knows it and says it. “This frustrates you doesn’t it? You hate it when you aren’t the one in control. When you aren’t getting your way.” I pout and flash my eyes. It’s not working. I refuse to move. I want what I want and I want it now. I think I see her giving in. Leaning up toward my mouth, hers slightly open. I lean down, my lips parted. She pulls away, laughing softly. I should be aggravated but I am intensely intrigued. Does she know how much this game is getting to me? Does she feel my heart race? Is my lust for her that palpable? She knows. I’m sure she knows.

An eternity passes before she gives up the prize. Our lips playing upon each other, my sigh into her open mouth, the talking, the teasing, and then…that one sweet moment when the kiss becomes a tangible thing. An event. A happening. When the chemistry takes over and you become insatiably hungry for one another and no one else will do. I fall into her deep, soft, long, lingering, passionate kisses.

And she takes my breath away.