She points the way, although he needs no direction, her delicate fingers climbing the bare legs raised up stiletto high, trailing the silken line from ankles to calves, skimming the quiver of thighs splayed open, spread wide, parting the rosy folds of the sex dripping its hot liquid lust, tracing lazy circles around the nub swollen tight with desire.
She guides the way, even though he requires no assistance, her hands winding, possessing his head and face and smile, edging his gaze, his greed close, close, ever closer, holding him steady and firm at her sweet and pungent portal, his gasping breath, his gulping inhalation inspiring the maddening beating in her cunt, his mouth, his lips, his tongue grasping at the air whispering between them, his mouth, his lips, his tongue longing for that first perfect, honeyed kiss, his mouth, his lips, his tongue yearning, craving, aching, reaching for the woman, for the cup, for the flood, for her uniquely, addictive glisten.
Once the darkness descends, once the moonlight beams through, once the sapphire glow of the night engulfs the room, the shadows, the spectres, they come for her. They come for her desiring flesh, for her skin fair and blushing, for the body ever reaching for his alluringly forbidden touch. They come to feed on its fire, its need, to coax its secrets chaste and corrupt. They come, winding in and around her, pressing hard and tight against her, pinning down their woman, seductress, their lover. They come mapping her, marking her with certainty, with obscurity, their trace a cruel reminder of her longing for him, for him, to have him, to have him, in her bed, between her lips, in her cunt bright, greedy and glistening.
They come, they come, alone and together, they come...
(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)
I need your body strong, your body warm, your gaze and scent and kiss, your thick, hard lingering heat. I need your words, your silence, your song. I need your touch light, I need your touch dark, I need your touch complete.
Right now, I am certain you sense this, feel this, know this … fear this … to be true. I am certain this obsession, this addiction, this myopia is finally beginning to dawn.
And yet, the day on which it breaks is cold and grey and blustery, is without little hope, is without any sense, is without the rational thought that tempers the body written through with a desire so deep it tears the flesh, the soul, this woman to shreds.
Did you see?
Did you sense?
Did your flesh and blood perceive?
Did your stirring, insatiable cock by some means know just how this body yearns for your lingering touch, your urgent caress, just how this woman longs to drown in the depths of your sensual kiss?
In those swift strokes of the hand…
Did you feel?
Did you believe?
Did your skin prickle in its understanding?
Did your breath rasp and accelerate, your muscular chest heave once you realised it was you
I reach out for in the night, once you grasped my maddening need to melt and merge with your hard addictive heat?
In those sharp bangs of the drum…
Did you hear?
Did you discern?
Did your sexual soul take hold?
Did your ears swim in the moans of pleasure escaping these soft full lips, your body shudder, your uncut meat drip as I fingered and fucked this cunt to the light in the name of your passion, our flame?
In those fleeting pulses of time…
Did you taste?
Did you discover?
Did your mouth ask, speak its truth?
Did your lips and tongue offer their words, their hunger, their enveloping benediction as they craved me near, as they devoured me from afar, as they compelled you to recognise the sweet and cruel mistress of this irresistible, overwhelming desire?