About fucking time.

“It’s about fucking time!” The words were primal grunts under his breath as he drove into her. They had been circling each other for weeks and finally, tonight, they had come together. The response she gave him was not much more verbal. It was simply a higher pitched combination of grunts mixed with sighs and moans. Her fingernails told him a lot, too. She had already scratched him and now she was digging her fingers into his hair and pulling his face down to hers like she hadn’t tasted man in years. It was raw and he loved it. He gave as good as he got, answering every violent tug on his body with a stiff pump. His ass and his abs were gonna hurt tomorrow. Sweetest workout he had had in forever. Shit! He felt amazing. His skin was smooth and the muscles were hard underneath it. She hadn’t even realized until she started to touch him. What did he do to get a body like this? Fuck it! She didn’t care right now. That body was between her legs and she was on fire. It had been a while, but no so long that it should light her up like this. There were serious chemical reactions going on under her skin. This experiment was definitely working. The encounter moved quickly. Not a lot of foreplay. None was needed. They had been flirting and turning each other on from across the room for long enough. As the sex ramped up, he felt how easily he could come, and realized he didn’t want it to be over that quickly. “Let’s slow it down a little, ok.” He was panting, fighting to get the words out and calm his body at the same time. “Yeah,” she managed to answer. Her lips were right by his ear and he felt her head nod up and down in agreement. He slowed his movements and she relaxed into the gentler rhythm. Now that things were calming, she had a chance to look at him, to assess this figure undulating over and inside of her. He was strong, but it was natural. This was not the body of a gym resident. He came to his physique honestly. That made him all the more tasty. She raised her face to his torso and kissed it. She kissed it everywhere she could reach. His shoulders, his arms, his neck, his pecs. Oh, her mouth felt good. Her lips were soft and hungry. She did this thing where she flicked her tongue over his skin as she kissed it. It made him groan. Her mouth was sweet and she used it well. He slowed even more, immersing himself in the feel. The small noises he was making in response to her kisses were so satisfying. Telling her he was loving this as much as she was. It wasn’t just about his dick. He was into the whole coupling thing. She took a break and lay back. Stretching underneath him, she raised her arms and looked down through her breasts, between their two bodies, watching his hips roll and feeling it at the same time. Damn, it was sexy. He couldn’t help it. The way she was watching him fuck her was awesome. He broke out in a big grin as he thought about it, which she noticed! Her reaction was to bite her lip and smile back, and her reward for that was a particularly deep thrust, then a super slow retreat, which got him exactly what he had hoped for. She arched up with the pleasure of his last thrust, closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. Oh, he could move. Before she could open her eyes again, she felt his mouth on her. Tit for tat. Or simply, tit, because that’s where his mouth was. Full mouth. Lips, tongue, sucking, feeding on her. Her tits were beautiful and when her torso bowed up like that, they were in the perfect position to reach them. He wasn’t trying to tease them or play with them. He was past that. His immersion in her body was complete. He covered them with his mouth and then worked his way up her collar bone to her neck and face. He kissed her deeply, lowering his weight onto her as he did. He wanted to get close. He wanted all of his skin touching all of hers. She responded to the kiss, meeting its depth and wrapping herself around him. Her arms encircled his neck and her legs came up to wrap around his hips. Connected like this, she paused and reveled in the feel of his pumping into her. Deep. Slow. Intense. Then, “my turn,” she thought. She dropped a leg and tilted her hips sideways. He read her cue. Wrapping his arms around her; one at her back, the other on her ass, he rolled and brought her up on top of him. That was hot. He couldn’t help but chuckle with both pride and total physical enjoyment as she got her balance on top of him. Her face was covered by her hair and her tits jiggled. He steadied her as she found her balance and slid all the way down his cock. Her hands were on his chest and she was breathing hard. Was he laughing at her? No. He was into this. “Ok, then,” she thought, “here we go.” She flipped her hair and gave him a challenging look. She playfully dug her nails into his chest, making him flinch, and began to move. She understood as well as he did how to roll her hips, and the smirk soon left his face in exchange for a look of tense pleasure. This wasn’t going to last much longer, but that was cool. She was ready to come and she really wanted to see what he looked like when he did. On top, she rode him as well as he had been riding her. Her thighs were tight around his hips. Her ass rubbed softly against his thighs and he got to fondle those lovely tits. It was a winning combination and he knew he was gonna come soon. He could see she wasn’t far behind. Now that she was in control, she could move exactly the way she needed to and that aroused him almost as much as the actual friction between them. He tensed his ass to counter her rolls and soon felt her begin to clench around his shaft. Oh, that was good! When she began to moan, it triggered him. He gripped her thighs and thrust up into her, driving hard, with the need they had both felt at the beginning of their encounter. Together, they came. It was hard and loud. She dug her fingers into his chest. He dug his into her thighs and they both held on as their bodies took over, convulsing and washing them in cascades of pleasure.When their orgasms at last subsided, she leaned back against his bent legs and pushed her sweaty hair out of her face. “It’s about fucking time.” 

Confirmation

This was not a kiss of permission. It was a kiss of confirmation. They had gotten this far. He was between her legs. She was sitting on the counter. Their clothes were still on but that was a barrier easily surmounted. She was leaning just slightly back, balancing herself on her hands. His hands were on the counter next to her hips. Their bodies were touching, but they were not actively touching each other. They were close. The air was close. He knew she wanted him, but the real question was, would she actually go through with it. Would she bolt, or would she have him. It was up to her. He didn’t want to back off, but he would if he had to. He studied her face, her eyes, reading her expression. Everything about her said she wanted a little push, wanted him to help her make this decision. He leaned in closer, past the point where he could focus on her whole face. So focused on her eyes. They darted back and forth between his. Anticipatory tension showed, not fear. Keeping that eye contact, he opened his mouth and took hers. As his mouth covered hers, those eyes closed. Her lips and tongue worked his as eagerly as he had hoped. His sigh contained both relief and hunger. Her arms went around his neck and his fingers went into her panties.

10 Seconds

Romance needs food. If a romance is not fed, its fire fades and fades until it finally burns out. I have learned this over time, and it has caused me much heartache and sadness. I have a lover who also knows this. Because of this hard-earned knowledge, we have developed a secret weapon of sorts. A match, some tinder to keep our passionate fire burning. It is our 10 seconds.10 seconds. Whenever we have been apart and we meet again, we have 10 seconds. Whenever we have been sleeping and we wake, we have 10 seconds. It is amazing what you can do with 10 seconds. The ways to fill that span of time are endless, and the possibilities fuel our creativity. The one rule is: the 10 seconds are filled with him and me and touch. There is no outside world. There are no discussions. Just him. Just me. Just touching. It started with kisses. We would meet at the end of the day and the first thing we would do would be to kiss. We would share a 10 second kiss. At first it was strange, even comical. It made us feel awkward. To stand and kiss for 10 seconds. We had to think about it. We had to think about relaxing into it. We had to count in our heads. It was difficult, but quickly, we discovered its magic. We stopped counting and just started kissing. The seconds passed more quickly. 10 seconds became 20. A simple kiss led to a deeper, more probing one. A touch of lips developed into gentle caresses. Caresses would often be followed by embraces. Then, the world was forgotten. Whatever might have seemed more important, needing to be taken care of immediately, serving as a reason for us to delay our 10 seconds, was quickly wiped away because, well, 10 seconds wasn’t that long. It was just enough time to forget. Forget everything except each other. Fire was kindled. Fires began to build. Fires were sustained. Now I find myself thinking about our 10 seconds. I find myself looking forward to our 10 seconds. I want what those 10 seconds will lead to. Now, I think of different ways to spend those 10 seconds. Now, I look forward to where those 10 seconds will go. How many ways we fill them? A 10 second kiss, yes, but what else? A 10 second kiss with a hand on a bottom, kneading flesh, pulling a body closer. That is a difficult 10 seconds to walk away from. But the walking away is part of the fun. A 10 second kiss with a hand on a breast, feeling its weight, squeezing its nipple. That is a 10 seconds that begs for more. A 10 second kiss with fingers between legs, searching out hidden flesh and warm dark places. That is a 10 seconds that cries out to be released. And it is. Not immediately. But it is. That is the best part. 10 seconds turns into more. 10 seconds lasts all day. Not in reality, but in my mind. In his mind. In our minds. In our bodies. My body cannot forget the 10 seconds of contact. The 10 seconds of caresses. The 10 seconds of foreplay. My body quietly smolders all day. Sometimes the 10 seconds happen in our home. Sometimes the 10 seconds are secret trysts, hidden behind doors in public places. That is the other rule. The 10 seconds happen every time we reunite. This makes us creative. Sometimes we can be passionate, sometimes we have to be reserved. Do we find a hiding place and express our passion, or do we pretend we are chaste and proper? It is a game that only we are party to. That is also part of the fun.10 seconds. When we do come together, in the privacy of our own bed, the 10 seconds explode. Then we no longer have to think. We can simply be. We can be hands and mouths and bodies. We can be fire. The smolder quickly ignites and the release and relief are heaven, created from 10 seconds. 

The shower was huge, more like a walk in closet than a space for bathing. It had tiles from floor to ceiling and a little ridge around the edge so that the water would collect just slightly on the floor, making a warm puddle. The water cascaded down from the ceiling like rain. It felt more like standing outside in a warm storm, rather than taking a shower.He lay me down on the tiles of the floor and positioned himself over me, masking my face from the rain with his, one hand supporting his weight, the other caressing the side of my face. He looked, smiling, into my eyes.One of his knees was between my thighs, high between them, keeping them apart, almost touching my sex, but not quite. As the water ran down the length of his thigh, it dripped tantalizingly on to the tip of my clitoris, a teasing drip, drip, drip, that was sweet torture. I moaned, closing my eyes and licking my lips.He smiled quizzically.“I’m not even touching you.”“Look at your knee.”He lifted one eyebrow and moved his gaze down.“Oh.” He said, when he realized what he had inadvertently been doing.  “Hmmm.” He wondered out loud.Then he bent down and, purposefully, covered my sex with his mouth. With a long, smooth, sensual suck, he drank all the moisture from my skin. I gasped with pleasure and arched up from the floor. He laughed, enjoy the effect of his actions.I laughed too, then closed my eyes. His arms were wrapped around my hips, his hands on my stomach, his fingers holding on to me and drawing my body against his mouth. His lips were on me, licking and sucking, making a slow, sensuous feast of my sex.His mouth was talented and purposeful; its movements executed in well-practiced patterns. He circled me with his tongue, exploring every fold of my sex. He covered me with firm, languorous licks. He penetrated me with his tongue, retreating from my body with slow, strong sucks of my clit. He flicked his tongue with skill, delivering quick, sharp jolts of pleasure to my body. He took his time and his own pleasure in doing it. He was attentive and calculating, bringing me just to the brink of orgasm, then slowing down, waiting for my peak to subside. Then he would begin again. The experience was breathtaking and slow, maddening and perfect.As I yielded to his carnal ministrations, all my senses awoke and my body became receptive to the greater, all-encompassing physical situation enveloping me: The warmth of the water raining down over me. The constant drip, drip of the drops assaulting my skin. The slickness of the wet. The heaviness of my soaked hair around my face. The hard, slick of the tiles under my back. And the man between my thighs. I stretched my arms above my head, lengthening my body, making more room for the waves of sensation to wash over me. And then…oh…he was ready for me to come. He was going to make this happen, now. He sucked harder, flicked more quickly, and with a smooth movement, brought his fingers to my sex and slid them into me. I gasped and curled upward, coiling my fingers into his hair. His mouth attended to that mass of nerves outside of me as his fingers massaged its opposite inside of me and I exploded in an all-encompassing climax that traveled over me, rippling up and down my body.

It is late. Really late. I want to go to him. He is not far away, just in the next room.I hesitate for a moment. He certainly won’t reject me, but will he be what I want him to be, tonight? Will he understand my need?I need to feel controlled. Not in a negative, domineering way. I feel out of control and I need someone outside of me, him, to curb that feeling.I want to go to him, but I want him to lead the way. I want to crawl into the bed next to him, slide in under the covers and leave the rest up to him. I want to submit to him. I want him to make me feel as though I have no responsibilities. I want his body to think for both of us.I want him, in that haze of sleep, to follow his most basic instincts. I want him to roll over, reach out his arm and pull me toward him. No talking, just bodies. I want his hand to find its way from my waist down to my ass. I want him to pull my hips toward his. I want to feel his kiss and I want to feel his hands explore my skin, finding their way to wakefulness and arousal. I want to feel his erection grow against my belly and I want him to follow its lead. I have brought my body to give to him. I want him to take it. I want him to roll on top of me and nestle in between my legs. I want him to kiss my mouth and neck and breasts. I want him to run his hands down my body. I want to feel his hands. I want my skin to be caressed by his strong, purposeful hands. I want to feel his fingers running over my thighs, then between my legs and up to my waiting cleft. I want to feel them tantalize me and make me ready. I want to feel them penetrate my body as his tongue penetrates my mouth. I want to feel my body arch against him as his pushes down onto mine. I want to feel his body. I want to feel how much larger and stronger than me he is. I want him to be in control. I want to feel the tip of his cock press against my slick opening. I want to feel his thickness, his warmth and his stiffness as he slides into me. I want him to fill me. I want to feel his muscles work as he thrusts into me. I want to wrap my legs and arms around him as he takes pleasure in me and I want to ride that submission into my own ecstasy.I want to go to him.

Sometimes, the touch of a lover’s body is sweet enough.He brought me to orgasm, using his hand and his mouth, and it was blissful. Now, my body is relaxed and languid. My muscles have eased and are warm and pliant.It is his turn.I lie on my back. My sex is wet. Lovely and slick.My body has sunk deep into the blanket. My legs are open. He comes over me. His hands are gentle and purposeful and loving. His mouth is warm and wet. His kisses tell me how pleased he is with himself.He should be.I am.He kisses my breasts. My neck. My mouth.His body is comfortably heavy on mine. Our skins feel wonderful together.He settles between my legs and reaches down for one more feel, smiling at his work before he guides his cock inside me.It is his turn.I wrap my arms and legs around him as he begins to move. His breathing intensifies and he kisses my mouth, taking my breath as well. I curl my fingers into his hair and hold his head, kissing him back, exploring his mouth with my tongue in the way I know he loves.He moves. His hips rock up and down. Back and forth.He is taking his pleasure of my body, and my body finds pleasure in that.The sounds of his intensified breathing and his slight moans make my body respond, wanting to envelop him even more fully.  I bury my face in his neck, kissing the skin there, and let my hands explore his arms and back and buttocks….wherever they can reach. His mouth is next to my ear and I can hear all of his pleasure as clearly as I can feel it.He groans but he takes his time, slowing down to make it last longer. He pulls almost all the way out of me and pauses, breathing purposefully, controlling his body. Then, he pushes in to me again. Long, slow, thrusts. In. Out. Smooth. Steady. Stimulating. So stimulating! My hips respond, rolling up and down to meet his thrusts. The sensations of skin on skin and sweat-slick friction cover me.It is his turn, and it feels wonderful.His body stiffens and his movements increase in speed as he finds his way, building towards climax. He takes his weight onto his arms and lifts up his chest. Shorter, harder strokes now. He grunts with his own effort and his face makes that expression that is so him. I can read his pleasure. I can see exactly what he is feeling and I love it. Holding my hips up at that perfect angle for his entry, I finish his strokes with firm pushes of my own.This is right. This is good. Our bodies know each other. It is his turn and I am happy for him to have it.He cries out as he reaches orgasm and I can feel him pulsing, deep and hard, spilling his pleasure inside me.Then, those last few shuddering strokes, those last few groans as his pleasure subsides and his body releases the tension of his orgasm.He breathes out and settles onto me, kissing my neck. I stroke his arm. His weight on me is heavy and perfect.

Here is a fantasy. Put yourself into it. Become the subject, the "I". See if you like it: My sex. In the open and open. The sky is warm. The air is warm. There is just a hint of a breeze.A hand. Two fingers. One on each side of my lips. They press down firmly and squeeze gently. Just enough that my lips plump up and flush slightly. I pulse. Moisture comes.Another finger. This ones dips just slightly into the warm fluid appearing at the opening to my body. A lovely lubricant. Wet, now, the finger gently spreads the moisture over my plump lips, sliding deliciously, teasing sensations to life. My clitoris responds, hardening under the slick touch.Then, a tongue. Teasing. Flicking gently. Tasting.A mouth. Two different sorts of lips join the fun. They cover my clitoris with their warmth and suck. Gently at first, then more purposefully. My sex erupts in a wave of tingling sensations. The circumference of my sexual entrance awakens and pulses.Noticing, the tongue accepts the invitation and slides inside me. Discovering the depths within. My buttocks tighten and my hips move to get more of that lovely feeling. The tongue inside me. Moving soft and warm and slick and pliable. Those lips, continuing to suck.The sensations build.Then, the fingers reappear. The tongue has work to do on the outside. Tasting, licking, flicking, tickling, caressing. They take its place inside of me. First one, then two. Moving in and out. Pressing against my contracting muscles. Searching for that knot of nerves that brings so much pleasure.The combination of sensations converge to bring me to beautiful orgasm and release. The waves of pleasure wash over me and I breathe.My own hand, then, moves to that warm place between my legs where the pulsing is subsiding, and I smile. Satiated.

Tasting Sugar

He asked her to let him eat food off her body and she laughed. The sheer cliché of it made her giggle and start to refuse, but he persisted. Wanting to please her lover, and figuring some foreplay was better than none, she acquiesced. New games were always fun. He got the shaker of powdered sugar from the pantry, took her hand, and led her to the living room. Standing there, he lifted her arm and, looking her in the eye, sprinkled a light dusting of sugar on her wrist. Then, he tasted it. The sensation surprised her. Startled, she looked up at him. He met her gaze and the corner of his mouth moved just slightly. He let go of her wrist.

He undressed her with mischievous efficiency and tossed her clothes into the corner. Smiling a quirky and enticingly knowing smile, he kissed and guided her to the floor. When she was lying down, he retrieved the shaker and knelt beside her. While keeping eye-contact, he bent to lick her breast, taking his time, thoroughly wetting it with his tongue. Satisfied with his prep work, he dusted it completely with the powder.

Whatever his intention had been, it was working. She felt the moisture rush between her legs as she watched him. When he put his mouth over her nipple and began to taste the sugar away, she gasped. It was like no sensation she had ever experienced and nothing like she had expected. This was not licking. It was not kissing. It was eating. Not in a chewing sort of way, but in a full-mouthed, hungry and gently devouring way. He had kissed her body before, but this was different. There was something about the action of his mouth tasting and consuming real food upon her skin. The presence of the sugar made it different, and feeling that on her body took her totally by surprise. His lips covering the decorated area. His tongue, attracted to the sweetness it found there. The combination of all that with his mouth’s natural production of saliva and the action of him swallowing something pleasant could not be faked. He was enjoying this as much as she was. He was consuming the sugar on her skin, as well as the natural taste of her.

He sprinkled more. This time on her stomach, working his way down her body. As his mouth left one area, his hands found it, continuing the work of arousing her. When he came to the fork in her body where her legs met her sex, he parted them and sprinkled the soft white powder on her inner thighs. Having him eat the sugar from that sensitive area, having his lips and tongue work teasingly on her skin, there, was its own level of sweet. He used his tongue to explore the creases in her flesh, his lips pressing into them, making sure there was no powder left.

He positioned himself in between her thighs, in line with her body, and looked up at her again. Her face flushed with the pleasure evoked from his ministrations. His displayed the pleasure that comes from pleasing a lover. He did not sugar her sex. That needed no sweetness. He simply bent to his feast and began…  

Deep Morning

It is still early. I am not quite awake. I am deep in my blankets and my lover lies beside me. The bed feels full and warm. Encompassing. I know that he is awake, but lying still out of consideration for me. Lazily, I send out my hand, fumbling slowly within the blankets to find him. When I do touch him, his flesh is warm. His answer to my touch is to move closer. He moves slowly, but with purpose. He answers my touch with a deep kiss. His lips are full and soft and determined in the mellow waking of the day. His tongue fills my mouth and I have no choice but to answer his kiss or be uncomfortably overtaken by it. I answer willingly. He pulls himself toward me. The bed and blankets around me are like a cocoon and his body becomes a part of that embrace. He continues his kiss. Purposeful in his tasting. His arms come around me, strong and thick, themselves. His hands on my skin are firm. The only clothes impeding his movements are the bedclothes. I like sleeping in my own skin, exposing it to the touch of my blankets. Now my skin is exposed to his. His hands move over it, waking it. Then, he is on top of me, coming into position in a rolling way that allows our moving bodies to retain the snugness of the well-slept-in bed. Our arms are wrapped around each other. Mine, around his shoulders and back. His under my shoulders, with his hands cupping my head, better to force his kisses upon my yielding mouth. Then, he is in between my legs, and then, he is inside me. We are deep in our bed and it is clear that his intention is to be deep inside me. There is no need for preamble. I am ready, startled by and deliciously accepting of this morning advance. We are close. There is no gap between our bodies. He is heavy on top of me and I am wrapped around him. Our coupling does not last long, but it does not need to. It is complete in its fullness. Two bodies thick with morning and sleep, made one in warmth and intensity. As our bodies respond to the movement and stimulation, they thicken as well. I can feel his penis becoming harder and more engorged as he moves inside of me. His breath thickens, his face buried against my neck. I can feel the muscles of my vagina thicken to squeeze him tighter, and my legs do the same. My clitoris responds, stiffening in its own way as his body rubs against it. As we climax, our bodies tighten, the solidity of our embrace reflecting the intensity of the orgasm we experience as we cry out together and greet the day.

A New Lover (Version 1)

This is the original version of the story by the same name that you will find on my Vocal Media page. I would be so curious to know which one you like better and why.

I have a new lover.

It is a beginning. The beginning of a relationship is such an exciting time. Everything is new. Everything is unexplored. Everything is a surprise. It is so with us.

Just thinking about our time together ignites all my senses and blocks out the rest of the world.

My mind is full of questions and anticipations. Anticipation is such a powerful aphrodisiac, and I am in a constant state of anticipation. I am surprised I have not lit everyone around me on fire. That is how sensually charged I feel.

Think of the last time you had a new lover….Can I just reach out and touch, or should I ask permission?

What will he smell like when I get close enough to really inhale his scent? I love the smell of a man. Forget colognes or soaps. I want to smell skin. What will his passion smell like? His patience? His ecstasy?

What will his voice sound like when we are so close that the softest of whispers will reach my ears? What will he say to me when we are that close? Will I be capable of responding with words, or will my body take over?

Once, he asked me if he could kiss me. No one had ever asked me that before. That simple question sealed the deal. Yes.

What will his kiss feel like? Taste like? There are kisses and then there are kisses. There are kisses that occur in the light, and then there are kisses that happen in the dark. Kisses that lead to…What will he look like when his body is bare before me? What intimate details have his clothes hidden? How vulnerable will I feel when I am exposed before him? What will it feel like to have his eyes upon me? Just thinking about those new eyes on me makes me blush and tingle and smile.

What will his skin feel like? Soft or firm? Smooth or rough? Cool or warm? What will his hands feel like on my skin? Light or heavy? Gentle or demanding? Shy or certain?

Time to go. He is here…