Sensuality

I've barely been able to order my thoughts all day; my desire for you is so overwhelming. My mind and body are reeling, swimming, drowning in the possibilities, in the vision of you tearing and shredding the clothes from my body and taking me from behind, possessing me with every ounce of your control, with every ounce of your abandon, fucking me like a beast seizing, conquering its prey, your will and restraint, your refinement and sophistication at last utterly stripped away.


But I fear that my tiredness and this wretch of a day now have me feeling soft and sensual once more. Would you mind if we indulge that sensuality?

Would you mind if we shed our clothes with an aching slowness, our hands releasing the buttons, the binds, the fabrics and ties, the laces and silks and the finery, our fingers and lips caressing, kissing, devouring each newly revealed piece of skin until we're finally naked and bare? Would you mind if we climbed between the crisp cotton sheets, our bodies finding one another, our bodies instantly, unconsciously drawn together, my legs wrapped around your waist, my hands on your nape, my mouth reaching up for another kiss? Would you mind if I ran my hand through the dark wiry curls on your chest, if I traced the hollow of your hip, if I wound my delicate fingers around your hard and leaking glans to roll back your foreskin, to trace your cockhead with my thumb, to stroke you, to hear your breath rasp, to part my pink glistening folds with your shaft? Would you mind if I slid my hungry sex along that throbbing thickness, if I tease my clitoris until I come loud and hard as you hover above me, watching my face and body intently? Would you mind if I took you in hand and placed you at my portal, feeding every inch of your thick cock into my most intimate flesh, my sweet cunt enveloping, clamping around you, my body prematurely on the brink? Would you mind fucking me, making love to me slowly, slowly, oh so slowly, allowing me to commit to memory every nuance and pulse and thrust and groan? Would you mind coming inside me to satisfy the dizzying craving that courses through me each day and each night, to satisfy the need for your violent rain, for your scorching seed?

And when we're sated, when we're spent and breathless and our bodies call us to rest, would you mind if we wound ourselves together once again and listened to the wind and the rain?