Savour

The morning breaks, the songbird heralds its dawn and I want you, I want you here, I want you here with me, your strong body pressed in close, eyes sleepily drifting across my curves, your hands caressing this aching softness, transitioning from cotton to warmth to cashmere, lazily tracing the beauty spots speckling my skin, your sigh, my moan, our whispers, the words of your lust, your yearning, your need to taste, to savour, to have me come hotly on your tongue, against your lips, in your mouth before you rise up and tenderly take hold, spreading me wide, revealing my brightness, my glistening desire to the room, to your gaze and your hardening flesh, my body arching, arcing, the feline now awakened as your breath, your urgent thirst make landfall at last.

Silk

Tease away this cover
Whisper into me your secrets
Caress me, possess me with your silk

Envy

I envy her. I envy them all.

All of the women lucky enough to encounter you, to chance upon you on the street, in the underground, out in the world as you pass them by, the ones able to catch the briefest glimpse, the ones who can treat themselves to the lingering gaze, the ones who please your eye and arouse your passions, the ones able to brush against your imposing frame or have you press your body into them in the peak hour rush on the crowded train. 

I envy them, I do. All of the women fortunate enough to have you, to know you, to truly know you, to be with you, each and every day, privileged enough to bring you into their lives, to bring you in tight, to bring you in close, into their bodies, into their ache, into the velvet heat craving your thick, hard perfecting flesh. I covet the moments they share with you, the moments and minutes and hours they are able to reach out and touch you, to caress your mouth oh so sensually with their lips, the mouth always longing for one more kiss, to trace its peaks with their soft and slippery tongues, to glide their hands along the finely cut Italian suiting to feel, to register, to memorise the blistering heat, your rapid heartbeat.

And as I sit here on this cold and lonely night, I wonder if they indulge you completely, if they spoil you as I would do, if they selfishly take their own pleasure, if you sate their overwhelming desires and needs, the ones you so easily inspire in me, if they satiate your hunger with their skin and their cunts and their feminine suppleness, if you satisfy their greed with your hands and your cock and your mouth and your mind and the masculinity that invariably leaves me in a daze.

Blaze

Baby, baby, baby...
You know you do me wrong
But then you make it up to me
Then you set me right
Your body pressed into my hollow
Your hands roaming my soft skin
Your searing flesh plunged into my depths
The blaze, our fire, the sweetest sin

Two or Three Things I (Didn’t) Know About Her…

… Although, in my case, it’s more a matter of 16.

Thanks to the very generous Buddha from The Writing Buddha and The Infinite Ache – and his thought-provoking and tantalising questions – you can learn a little about me in my first online interview.

So, if your curiosity extends to my photographic and literary inspirations, my definition of “sexy” and the erotic fantasies that fuel my imagination, as well as the one thing that might surprise my readers, then please click the link and pay us a visit.  

And while the interview isn’t quite a Godardian critique as this post title might suggest, I’m hoping you (and he) will approve of this unveiling.

Enjoy...

~Minx x

(PS Once you're done, I'm hoping you'll find your way back here as I've been busy with my favourite camera once again...)

Revelation

 

Tell me the truth. What is it you want from me? Really want? Just say whatever is inside you…

I want to know you. All of you. Your body, your desires, your mind. Your heart. Your soul. The man.

I want to fuck you and make love to you. I want to indulge you in every way you can imagine, in all the ways my own passion can conceive.

I want to kiss you; I want to kiss your mouth, the strong line of your neck, the deep, smooth hollow of your hip. I want to kiss your cock; I want to worship it, taste you, savour your entire body with my lips and my tongue.

I want to caress your body in the dark, my hands touching, tracing, discovering each muscle and tendon and wiry curl, these fingers skimming, teasing the softness of your skin.

I want to drift off into my dreaming with your nakedness wound into mine, your breath on my neck, the beat of your heart on my back, your cock nestled between my cheeks.

I want to wake in the night and find you there beside me, in the place I always long for you to be. I want to rouse you from your slumber with my breasts pressed into your chest, my sex sliding along your thick, hard heat.

I want to wake with you, watch the sun rise with you, kiss the points where the sunlight meets your golden skin. I want to inhale your scent, committing it all to memory so I can recall you an instant when you're not here.

I want to talk and dance and walk with you; I want to laugh and sing and eat. I want to listen to your voice, the accented rumble that leaves me weak.

I want to be still with you, hushed and quiet, allowing my body to speak, allowing this body to tell you of the passion that has been taunting me for the past two years.

I want to hold your hand; I want to press myself in close, your fingers travelling their instinctive path, your palms finding their home in every curve of my slight frame.

I want to possess you in the open, for all eyes to see; I want you to take me, fuck me until I cry out your name, until my cunt releases the flood, until you fill me with your searing cream, until this body divides and just as quickly unites, until I can no longer count the time I have spent at the edge, in the rays of your blinding light.

I want to have these walls drip with our sweat; I want them to absorb our heated libations. I want to them to soak up our scent, the sweet musk of our come, the passion consumed and yet forever consuming.

I want to be free, I want to be bound to you; I want to touch you with my warmth and affection. I want to be free; I want us both to be free, unafraid to open ourselves to this feeling.

I want to submerge myself in you; I want to explore with you.

With you, I want it all.

Dévorer

If you only knew how I want – need – to devour you, to selfishly savour every inch of your masculine flesh, to sensually then passionately kiss each newly exposed morsel, to draw a glistening trail as my tongue drinks the essence of your skin, to bury my nose in deep, to drown in your musk, your heady scent, to slide my breasts along your hard, thickening shaft, to press my crimson peaks into your dripping head, to take you into my mouth, to take you into my hot little mouth and taste you, truly taste you, to glide you down my throat, to kiss and lick and suck on your cock until you weave your hands through my fiery tresses, until your thighs tense, your stomach knots, your hips thrust, until your orgasm screams out of you, until you roar it out, until you come all over my lips and my tongue, until you cover my shivering nakedness, branding me with your heat, painting me with your seed, my fingers sliding through your slippery cream to absorb every last drop into my lily white skin.

If you only knew how I want and need to devour you in this way, to consume you completely, to have you sink into my very core. And then to have you dress me, to have you cloak these passionate markings in the finery you love so well, to have you take me out into the world, into the politest of society, to have witnesses look upon us, to have them know in their pulsating sexes I am marked as yours, to have you fill my nose each time I shift, each time my body heat releases yet another wave, to have these men and women sniff out your come, our passion now suspended in the air, to have them gaze upon your magnetism, to have them regard your wanton woman, to have them wonder if I’ll indulge us both again right there and then.

Pearls

The strand cool against skin golden
The pearl of my purest pleasure aching
This body yearning for the lover’s marking
This flesh hungry for your hot and violent rain