Filigree

She meets his eye and only then begins her sultry serpentine recline; her glowing skin roused and somehow soothed by the plush velvet cord beneath, her body a delicate and supple arch slowly, deliberately sinking, laying bare her lust, playing out an enduring seduction, an attraction that has her flesh open and ready, always wanting and awakened.

Yet all the while she yearns, hungers for him to shatter this erotic measure, to take and possess her in a way that erases all lingering doubt about the certainty of his desire, to have him push her back a little roughly, his urgency rising as he tears to easy shreds the lace adorning the modesty throbbing, aching to be anything but, his mouth greedily devouring her pouting sex, his beard lightly scrapping a path up the feminine line for his lips to suckle violently on the hard, rosy nipple before entering her with a groan and fucking her with hard, deep, steady strokes that leave her breathless, trembling as each successive orgasm strikes through her like a bolt, his own release deferred until she cries she can take no more, until he unlocks his gleaming uncut cock from her embrace and anoints the lips of her cunt and the tautness of her belly with his searing come, the rained pattern of his seed the only filigree, the only adornment she truly craves and needs.

The Red Curtain

As I stand here, my desire pulsing, throbbing slick between my legs, as I stand here imagining the warmth of your dark gaze in place of the cold, hard stare of the lens, as I stand here breathlessly aching, a sheen of lust and impatience prickling my fair skin, I wonder, I wonder, I wonder if you realise what you do to me, if you know your true effect.

Do you know I want and crave and need you in more ways than words can ever dare express? Do you know how I yearn to trail my soft lips over and about you, to devour every pulsing vein, every smooth hollow and wiry curl, every inch of your glistening skin and flesh? Do you know how I long to draw the scarlet drapes and cosset our naked bodies away, to fuck you and make love to you in this secluded and timeless cocoon, far from the world we know, far from the personas we assume, to fuck you with the passionate intensity running hot and oily through these veins, to arch myself over your imposing form, to come with a scorching rush over your greedy cock, to milk the seed my velvet heat covets, to feel your body tremble and shudder as you possess me as yours, as I scream your name? Do you know how I hunger to take you, expose and bare you in the full glare of the light, the curtains drawn back, this room our stage, the prying eyes on the street, the curious gazes watching raptly, consuming our entwined bodies, the sight of the carnal beast who lurks within you impaling my sweet little cunt from behind, the pounding of flesh, your fingers digging into my hips, your shaft emerging gleaming and bright, my moans, your groans ringing out through the hush and their silence, your fist in my curls, your mouth finally seeking my kiss as you drive into my soul, into my molten depths as no other man has done before this moment of bliss?

Shimmer

Baby, baby, baby…

Let me tease you
Please you
Step into your light
Let me share with you
My silken heat
This body lithe
Let us come together
Our desiring flesh as one
Let us come together
Indulge and shimmer

Net

With one hand around her hip and the other travelling the length of her delicate back, he eases her down, his head crooked to the left, affording his gaze the opportunity to drink in the sight of her bare breasts framed by the black shrug and the crimson peaks instantly hardened as they make contact with the cool gleam of the wood.

But just as his fingertips leave the base of her spine, brushing the crevice dividing the cheeks he aches to grasp, kiss and taste, he stops, suspends his touch and the maddeningly measured caresses, drawing back and away.

He retreats to pander completely to the voyeur inside him, to commit to memory the vision of the woman he has desired from a painful distance for an age, to watch her body’s rise and fall, to listen to her breath – short, sharp, on the verge of tortured – to listen and watch and deeply inhale the scent of her bloom, the body tamed and yearning and waiting, waiting for the moment he will part the slender thighs pressed tight and begin to finger the web of netting nestled against her smooth, dripping sex, waiting for the moment he rends that mesh without ceremony, overtaken at last by the urgency of his hunger and need to reunite their flesh, the need to bury his naked uncut glans into her cunt so deep from behind his cockhead kisses her womb, his balls fusing themselves to her plump, throbbing clitoris, so deep she will cry out, invoke the almighty, whimper his name and her pleas, so deep she will be possessed once again, reclaimed rightly as his, taken back at long last from another, taking her back to every moment, every whisper and groan, every utterance and devouring kiss, every bond, every bind, every decisive thrust and perfecting stroke, every minute they have fucked like animals in heat, every hour they sensually attended to their love in the dark, every glide of his shaft, coated with her glistening come, every clutch of her cunt, dreading the loss of his lust, every drop of his scorched rain, painting her fair skin, every surge of his come inside her, inside her, deep, deep inside in the place where it belongs.

Muse

Once his gaze falls upon her, once his touch maps the limits of her form, once his lips whisper their kisses into naked feminine warmth, she is changed, transformed.

No longer purely woman, she is more.

Muse, creation, force, she is the sigh, the moan, the roaring pulse, oil on canvas, the sensual delicacy of his brushstrokes, light and shade, the camera eye, shutter click slicing through the night, the sweetest skin, the honeyed come, voluptuous pixels aching to transcend the screen, the erotic words composed in fluorescent virtuality, the desire etched into her glistening velvet, the lustful yearning written on the body with tip of devouring tongue, with the artist’s hand, with the need of man, with the slide of thick, throbbing flesh, with the seductive scratch of the writer’s nib.

Silk and Lace

Draped in silk and lace, I wait.

This body prone, craving, vulnerably anticipating your incendiary lust, the desires whispered, growled hotly into my waiting ear, the words exhaled into the curves trembling even now for the lightness of your touch, the words murmured along the straps drawn so tight you physically ache to tear the hooks, to rend each delicate fibre, to devour every morsel of my perfumed skin and 



glistening flesh, your mouth lapping at my streaming cunt, your tongue raking the sweetest pleasure of my clitoris, your lips suckling on each plump petal of my throbbing sex until the first orgasm screams up from my bones, until you drink down the passion you effortlessly inspire, until these walls drip with my pleas, my moans for your hard naked cock, for you to fill me, to fuck me, to take me at long last, to make me your wanton lover, your woman, yours and yours alone.

Draped in silk and lace, draped in this cruel, unerring need for you, I wait.

Out of the Past

He stalks her in the night, in the hour of the wolf, rising up out of the past to taunt her, to inflame her irrational desires, her unyielding obsession for him, her hunger for possession, for the rough kiss of masculine flesh, for the hands that will pin her to the frame with the slightest effort, for the fingers that will part the softness of her thighs, for the burnished glans that will fill her and fuck her so completely, so savagely she will cry out, curse his very name, her body releasing the flood, her cunt clutching, coming hotly over his naked cock, her juices flowing over his shaft, saturating the ebony suiting, her scarlet nails digging, drawing the blood on his back, marking his flesh with the passion, the hatred that courses even now through the woman shattering the dark silence.

Fall

Are you longing to fall?

Are you yearning to unleash your passion, to relinquish all control? Are you craving the plunge, the breathtaking pulse, the drive, the searing stroke into this glistening flesh, this mind, this rapacious woman, this soul? Are you hungry for a taste, for the ecstasy of our sensual merging, for our wanton rebirth, for our carnal annihilation, for the scorched libations that will etch into me your name for evermore? Are you desiring the very same from near or afar, from countless miles away or mere moments from my door, aching to take us to the place we have needed for so long?

The Silence

In the silence
These lips form
Whispers
Kisses

In the silence
This touch is
Lightness
Being

In the silence
The body glows
Passion
Hope
Memory

Slither

Lashes flutter with its first slithering caress, shrouding my gaze, plunging this body into the merciless ache, compelling me to traverse the cruel space between us, to reach willingly, to yield wantonly to the hands now passionately cupping my breasts, the fingers delicately edging away the lace, the tips tracing the sliver of light snaking its way to the smoothness of my sex, the lips brushing, kissing, suckling the crown of each proud peak, the naked cock impatient for a taste of my heat, the naked cock thrusting, stroking, surging inside me, the naked cock gripped by the force of my climax, the naked cock at one with the shuddering flood of my most intimate flesh.

Nightfall

The night falls.

And with it her heart, her body, her soul, each descending into the depths, into a darkness few seek and fewer still comprehend, into the yearning to be filled, fucked, to be taken, possessed as his equal, overcome by his passionate dominance, into the desire to be bound with the silk that even now hangs about his neck, into the need for the touch absolute, the caress that engraves his name on her skin, into the voice that ignites, soothes, assures her she has found her home in him.

Quintessence

She enters this world on a wave, on the swell of drapery luxuriant, riding the surf of embroidery curls, her body now realised in sensual repose, adorned in the gleam of the pearl, greeting this day usual yet unique, the essence, quintessence, not of perfection but of woman, of water, of earth, of fiery passion, of the softness of breath, of the glow of silken flesh, of the whispered kiss and sultry caress, of the loving force, of the feminine seeking the harmony, craving the masculine.

Gold Dust

You
Unearth me
Bare me
Heartlessly reduce me
To gold dust
Shimmering lonely
In the darkness of the night

Gossamer Caress

Although soft and indulgent against my skin, there’s little comfort in this gossamer caress for it merely fuels the yearning deep within, the yearning for your touch sensual and tender, for the kiss that speaks to me of boundless passions, for your body pressed in tight, for the flesh pressed in so close we no longer care where each of us begins and ends, for the lover aching to enfold me, for the man craving this embrace, for the one waiting, for the one needing this perfecting union.

Monochrome

Even as I am etched in black and white, even as I am drawn in the tones of their in-between, my passion for you transcends this monochrome frame, it is every colour, tint and shade either of us can conceive, it is every gradation of light and shadow, it is the inky darkness of a carnality which tears at my flesh and shreds my soul, it is the ashen green of jealousy, this barely contained envy of the women fortunate enough to drown in the hot rains of your lustful fury, it is the bronze of your skin kissed by the sun, the burnish of your glans hard and dripping in mouth, on tongue, it is your chocolate gaze, it is my azure look as you drive yourself to my clutching limit, it is the pinkness of my cunt, hungry, rapacious, the cream of my thighs bound tight about your waist, the scarlet of the heart bleeding its loving ache, it is the kaleidoscope, the splinters, the shards blinding, arresting as these fingers seek skin, as they spread open the lips, as I fuck myself, as I give in, as I surrender to the wanting, to the imagining, to you here in this room, reaching, reaching for me through time and space and improbability, through the impossible, through the unthinkable pleasure of this body, this offering, the pleasure that takes me to breath’s end, that takes me to the brink and back again, that brings you to me, that delivers me to you, that devours everything, all hue.

In the Curve

It is in the curve you belong, your body and mine as one, your hands hovering over the arching line, drawing in the heat, the shine of the light, hovering, taunting my desire, inflaming this need, hovering, relishing the urgency prickling my skin, hovering, hovering, the space between us cruelly intact, hovering, hovering, before making landfall at last, before touching, before meeting, before easing, prising open the flesh dripping its want, your dark gaze, your ravenous mouth drinking me in, drinking me down, your thick cock plunging into the embrace of my most intimate ache, plunging into this clutching cunt, your imposing form surrendering its burden, its weight, the weight bearing upon, baring your soul, your hips a piston, furiously slamming, fucking, taking possession of the woman whose cries of pleasure threaten to bring down these walls, whose cries of pleasure, whose velvet fire, whose unerring passion threatens to shatter, to break you both. 

In the Pink

In bed and in the pink and missing you, aching, aching for you, for you to reach out to me, to trace this shy and veiled cleft, to glide your hands between the softness of my thighs, to have your fingers ease away the drenched cotton, to have you part the plump lips of my sex, to have you slide your thick hard glans deep inside me, to have you lose yourself, submerge yourself, to have you drown in my heat, to have you know me and the slick and pulsing epicentre of my desire.

Anticipation

How can it be, lover? How can it be? 

How can it be your carnal masculinity turns me on my head so easily? How can it be the anticipation of your touch leaves me shivering, aching wet? How can it be the yearning for your flesh compels these legs to rise up to heaven’s edge? How can it be the desire for your body to slide along, between, inside this velvet heat reduces me to a whimpering mess? How can it be, lover? How can it be? How can it be the mere thought of you shatters this woman so absolutely?

Lumière

May this year
Bright and new
Bathe you in its light
Inspire you to reach for stars
Tease, tempt and satisfy
The deepest passions
Of body, soul and mind

Wishing you all a blissful, prosperous and cheeky 2013.

~Minx x

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…)