In the Palm of His Hand

The gesture is simple, the touch so complex that the slumbering little muscle slams instantly against her breast, the roar of blood in her ears draining away all sound as he takes one small step, filling the hollow, reclaiming his place, his hand reaching up to tenderly welcome her face, his palm at rest on her cheek now healing the breach, strong fingers drawing quiet circles on the softness of her nape, his caress, his caress, his caress finally speaking the words he cannot say, betraying the desire, his failure to forget, his inability to neglect the yearning, the need to have her once again with a completeness that leaves him on the verge, running to the edge, plunging into the breath and the life and the pleasure sensual and decadent which stirs his body, which hardens his cock, which murmurs sweetly, screams savagely to the truth of his soul in the long dark dead of night.

But it is only once she dares to meet his gaze that her heart truly breaks and her body shatters with it, revealing all she had attempted to shield and hide away, releasing the flood of her passion, the fine cotton around her hips sodden in barely a moment, the scorched glisten breaking the barrier, dripping, clinging to the creamy skin between her thighs, marking her body as his, etching his name on the smoothness, on her mound, on the scarlet lips plump and shining with the craving for his mouth and his tongue and his flesh, his flesh, his flesh, the thick uncut shaft that has her longing, yearning, that has her body arching and hurtling to the light, that has her now spreading her legs for him the glare of the day, that has him sliding two fingers into her needy sex, that has them crooked to find that little honeyed spot, his thumb brushing with an aching lightness over her clitoris, that has him fingering her cunt until the muscles in his arm are ready to tear themselves to shreds, until she grasps his shoulders, her tongue rasping his lobe, her voice reduced to a sultry whisper, his name on her lips again a moan, her cunt clutching at his fingers, her orgasm taking her to breath’s end, her come, her come, her come hot and sweetly pungent in the palm of his hand, in the palm, in the hand holding her tight, holding her close, holding her in the hopes she never lets him go.

HNT: Réunion

The summer shimmers beyond these walls, but this body gleams not merely with the season. It is my heat, our fire, this passion for you that smoulders in my core, that drums its beat in my heart, in my sex, in my soul, that rises up and prickles my skin, that transforms each thought into a sensual yearning, a carnal craving often too great to endure.

Yet once our bodies touch, once we come together, every kiss, every taste, every caress, every thrust of hips and stroke of hot hard perfecting flesh feels inexplicably new and unknown, feels just like home, feels right, so right to be here with you again, lips pressed in softly, limbs entwined, the two of us exhausted from our love making listening to the sounds of the twilight and the day shutting itself in to settle into night, to settle into darkness and an enveloping embrace that closes the gulf, that erases the space, our time apart, that brings me back to the place I truly belong.

(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see the return of all the gorgeous HNT players…)

Breathless

You speak the force of your desire
And leave me breathless
Gasping, desperate
To indulge your flesh

e[lust] #42

Photo courtesy of Penny

Welcome to e[lust] - The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you're looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it'll be here at e[lust]. Please check the site in January to find out if e[lust] will be continuing under a new owner, or not. Thanks for participating!

~ This Week's Top Three Posts ~

My Stint as an Escort

Gone Daddy Gone

Showing My Spots

~ e[lust] Editress ~

Curtain Call

~ Featured Post (Lilly�s Pick) ~

Thoughts: Safe Words

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the 'read more' tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Ask Aunty Dee: Anal Play and Buttplugs
Being sexy
I'm Monogamish, Apparently
Orgasms, Spontaneous
Profoundly in love
Rape Fantasies
Why Don't You Go Fuck Yourself?

Kink & Fetish

An Unexpected Gift
Cathartic Sex
Confession: The Stalking of a Doll
He got off to my laugh
Kink Guide to Fifty Shades Darker: conclusion
Kinky erotica from the top's point of view
Pain and Collars
Pegging Prep for Virgin Territory
The Cowboy (1 of 4)

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

a different kind of scene

Erotic Writing

Desperation
Dream Lover
Everything You Give
From the Inside
Get Back in Line
Just Hands
Lust in the Dunes - Part VII: The Love Elite
Munching on "Special K"
On The Phone
Out of the Blue
Tease
Take Two
The Stranger
White Stockings, White Stockings She Wore
What if?
Writing Challenge - A Question

Femme Fatale

There’s something you need to know…

I care little for your ruin. In fact, it’s the very thing I want to secure.

I want to spend, devour and break you. I want to feast on your flesh, leaving nothing for another. I want to strip away every vestige of your self-control.

I want to stroke your shaft, feel the weight of your thickening and hardening glans, your flesh throbbing, insistent, incessant, my thumb smearing the first pearl of precum across your burnished head, my soft mouth following suit to envelope you, savour you, suck you until I feel the first surge of your seed glossing my lips, my tongue.

I want to entwine my fingers around your naked cock, part the plump lips of my sex and feed you into my sodden cunt with an aching slowness that will leave you begging for swiftness, pleading for the knowledge of my pulsing depths.

I want to fuck you with a languid sensuality, with fire and anger and urgency, my lithe body arching above you as I feel your come erupting violently inside me, coating the velvet of my cunt with its slickness, as I clutch at you, milking every last precious drop, as I orgasm over and again hotly over your cock.

I want to kiss your mouth, inhale your breath, swallow your groan, my whispered name, your wanton words.

I want to leave you a shivering mess.

But more than this, I want – need – your crazed passion, the intensity of your lust to rise up, to scream though your skin, to exact its own revenge upon me, to tear my desire for you to shreds, to crush me by the same pitiless means, annihilating this hunger, this craving for good.

Cry

Do you recall the sound of my pleasure, my breath and my voice as I come? Do you remember the way I exhale your name as I tease my clitoris, as I finger my cunt? Do you recollect the ragged whispers, the moans, my half-spoken pleas, as your hands take hold of my hips, as you drive your burnished glans into my depths, as your kiss finds my lips, as you fuck me, possess me with a sweet savagery that leaves me captivated, addicted, obsessed?

Do you remember? Do you recall?

They were the very sounds that filled this room as I touched myself and thought of you, as time stopped and space closed itself in, as my body arched off the chair, as my orgasm crashed over me, as the air was overwhelmed with the scent of sex and the cry of my passion, as my want and desire and need for you clawed through the pretence, crawled up through my core, rose up through this flesh, returning to haunt me, to taunt this woman once again.

Bloom

It is in softness I bloom, shrouded in your flesh, beneath your body, inside your touch, in your breath and your lingering kiss, as your hands ease me down, draw me out, unravel this desire, as your lips trace and savour the silken arching line, as your hardness slides into my succulence, as my scarlet sex drips its ache, its want, its honeyed heat onto the bronzed glow of your skin.

Summertime

Day breaks and with it another season and the light and the heat pierce with a force that has me rising up to meet them, to join with them my own ignited flesh, the skin prickled with the fine sheen that has me gleaming, the body shivering with the intensity that once easily drew you in, the body insistent on its yearning even as the mind vows to thwart and forget, the hands that reach for you in the spaces now vacant beside me, the arms that clutch, that hold, that touch the woman in your absence, your name a whisper on her lips, in the ether a roar.