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

Vintage

It feels as old as time itself tonight; a burden, a weight, an affliction I simply can not escape.

And yet, it is just as alive, enticing, maddening as it was in our beginning, in that first moment my gaze fell upon your flesh, in the instant your deep voice washed over me, your desire whispered hotly into my skin, in the moment of profound and passionate recognition, of eyes locked, hearts thundering, of the breath of life through our kiss.

These Walls

I would scale these walls to find you, I would blind myself in the light, I would walk in the shadows, through the depths of the dark, I would drive my body through these bricks, this mortar, I would tear down this fortress with my bare, delicate hands if I knew you yearn for my touch, if I knew you long for the kiss of my skin, if I knew you reach out for my lips in the night, if I knew you desire without restraint or reserve, if I knew you were near or afar, if I knew you were ardent and free.

Gaze

It is yours I imagine; it is yours I crave.

It is your gaze, furtive and dark, voracious, unflinching, penetrating, I see reflected back as I stand before the glass slowly unveiling my nakedness, your molten eyes devouring my every detail, my every move, the zipper sliding, the clasps released, the fitted skirt, the satin shirt a tangle at my feet, my shoulders shrugging away the straps, these fingers easing down the lace to reveal the crimson peaks you hunger to take between your lips, my hand cupping the sodden ebony covering my sex, these hips grinding, my mound mashed into this palm, this sensual dance inflaming the ache, intensifying the need to tease away the fabric fused to my scarlet flesh, to have you drop to your knees between my legs brazenly open wide, to have your body marked in my scent, to have your mouth lap at the smoothness of my dripping cunt and the clitoris throbbing, pulsing, longing for your deep tongue kiss, to have you taste me, drink me down, to have you drive me to the screaming edge, to have you against me, buried inside me, to have you possess me with a softness then a violence neither one of us can resist.

Into the Ache

Lay your body down, lay it close to me, slide yourself into the hollow, into the shadow,
into my ache, into the velvet crying, yearning for your hot and hard perfection.

Winter’s Yearning

Lover… 

Are you out there? Are you waiting for me? Are you in a different city by a vastly different sea? Are you bathing in the balmy glow of the moon as I warm my skin in the soft rays of the winter sun? Are you greeting a brand new day while I slide this nakedness into my feathery nest? Are you longing for me, for the intensity, the passion, the intimacy a true union can bring? Are you gazing out at this very moment wondering about the woman, the girl, the temptress you are yet to meet?

Blue Note and Neon

First, the reflection of light; splashes of lolly pink and cobalt and blinding white, neon on darkened glass, on mirrored artificial spaces locked up and abandoned for the night. Then, footsteps; my own and those of others, the clack of heels on concrete and blacktop, suited men and women, bodies separately together, the weekday crowd heaving, weaving its way to home and solace, places near and afar, the honk of horns impatient and angry, the wind whipping, chilling, the glowing crowns of taxi cabs speeding down the hill, away from the gardens and the park, towards bridges over water, towards the inky black harbour and its maze of side streets and alleys, towards the sandstone structures with their stories of love and lust and heartache to tell.

And through it all, there’s a man on the corner, a metal piece pressed to his lips. And through it all, there’s a man on the corner, his fingers woven around gleaming brass. And through it all, there’s a man on the corner, his blue note slicing the clamour, the commotion, his blue note arresting my feet and my gaze, my attention, winding its way through my body, coursing, surging, etching itself into this shivering flesh, this blue note inspiring the ache, rousing the longing, the yearning, the vision of his hands upon me, his hands tracing these contours and curves, his mouth silencing my whispers, these words, his sensual kiss drowning, killing me softly, his rough kiss bringing me back to this cold, hard life, his body teasing me, mocking me, his hips grinding, taunting me with the flesh most desired, with the cock thick, hard and glistening, with the cock unlike any other within memory, his cock sliding through the slickness of my folds, his head circling, flickering my plump and throbbing clitoris, his cockhead nudging at the portal, at the point of delicious resistance, filling me with the taste that sets me moaning, with the taste that has me begging, with the taste of flesh, with the kiss of skin, with the second, the instant, the moment where he can truly take me, where his eyes can sink into me, where his sexual soul can see clear, can know me, where his hands can possess this softness, where his shaft can plunge to the sodden limit, to the clutching hilt, where he can fuck me with deep, seductive perfection, where his man can be at one with my woman, where our fucking, our love making, our union leaves us alive, addicted and breathless, shattering time and space, renewing the passion that flows without effort between us, the passion that runs through our lifeblood, through our days and our nights and each season that passes, the passion now called by that blue note, by this lone note suspending our desire in the ether.

Sapphire

I am bound, bound by your gaze slicing through the night, by the sapphire glow of this desire, bound by the carnal need stripping my slight body bare, by your thick hard flesh taking me to our very edge, bound by the strong hands on my hips, by the sweat pooling in my back, bound by the fire we exhale into the winter’s dark, bound by the deep softness of your kiss in the aftermath.

Slink in to see this week's delectably sinful players...

Metal

Weave your fingers, take possession
Bring me close, entice me near
Tease the ruby lips pining to be parted

Feed your flesh into me
Glide your shaft down my throat
Fuck my pretty mouth
Make love to this tongue hungering

Then come for me
Hard and loud and violent
Come for me
Splash your metal, your steely tang
 

Then come for me
Give me the flowing river, the ferocious surge
Come for me
Paint this kitten, coat her with your cream
 

Then come for me
Brand my lips, my breasts, my cunt
Come for me
Sate my craving for the gloss of man

Fire

From the tips of these Titian curls


To the pink peaks of this soft flesh


You set me ablaze


You melt down my core


This woman your fire

Velvet

This velvet

Against my skin

This velvet
Dripping its heat

This velvet

Without your flesh
Merciless, incomplete

In Black and White

It's there, right there, in black and white, glowing on the screening, screaming off the page.
 

It's here, right here, with the simplest of clicks, the tinniest of taps, it's here for me see.
 

It’s here, it’s there, as bright as day, as dark as this winter's night, for me, for all, for her to feel.
 

It’s there, it’s here, glaring at me, toying with me, knotting my stomach, gripping my body, crazing my mind.
 

It’s there, it’s here, your desire. Your desire.
 

But now it’s your desire, your passion, your ardour, your hard dripping fire for another, fashioned in the language you love so well, in the words that once played our own erotic game, in the poetry that was mine, in the prose you spilled for my aching flesh, in the verse that tumbled from these very lips, in the tongue now piqued by the curves, the sensuality, the femininity of this other woman.
 

It’s there, it’s here, your desire, in the deep shadows of black, in the blinding rage of white. 

It’s here, it’s there, your desire. Your desire and my jealousy.

Innocence and Sin

At once
Light and shade
Vice and virtue
Your woman
Of innocence and sin

Second Skin

When our bodies kiss, when they at long last meet, my skin is no longer hers, yours no longer his.

When we come together, when we are lost to the world but found to each other, when our passion is as one, this second skin of sweat and of fire and of glistening libations, this second skin of man and of woman, of limbs entwined, of uncontrolled pulsation, this second skin conceived of the fever, the hunger, our erotic abandon, this second skin born of the night devoured, the flesh for the taking, this second skin hard and fixed, silken and yielding, this second skin delivers the sweetest possession, the cruellest of freedoms.

Suspend

All day, every day, as the clock ticks, as my clock tocks, my desire, my body they take me to you, opening, revealing, offering themselves to the secrets of your lust, transporting me in an instant to the white expanse of the bed, to the pull of the straps, the softness of silk, the slippery nylon sheathing these smooth, fair legs, to your hands seizing me, suspending my motion, holding me tight, in place for your addictive possession, to your lips caressing my soft skin, to your tongue savouring my burning flesh, to your fingers teasing the sodden ebony mesh, to your impatient cock plunging in, your thick hardness filling me to the brim, to our bodies furiously meeting, sensuously melding, to our bodies fused together in a moment without end.

The Agony and the Ecstasy

This is torture. This desire, this need.

I’m so wet right now. Soaked, aching. My cunt is screaming, screaming for you. For you and only you. For your nakedness, for your hardness, for your body’s kiss.

This is torture. This is agony.

Yet, this is an agony ecstatic, one I merely want to prolong. I want this torture, I want to torture myself some more, I want you to torture me, to run your fingers and palms along the body here before you, to torment me with your mouth, your tongue, with your own burning need to feast. I want you to torment me, to tease me, to tease me with your cockhead, your thick uncut meat cleaving me open, sliding along my lips, along the path to my most intimate heat, nudging, nudging, meeting that point of delicious resistance then plunging yourself into me and fucking me, fucking me with slow and deep and decisive strokes, my legs around your waist, my body embracing you, my cunt clinging to you, my cunt a vice of flesh as I come over and again, hot and hard all over you before I make you withdraw just as you’re about to reach your own climax so you can erupt violently across the tightness of my belly, splashing against my labia, against my newly fucked sex, my fingers wrapping themselves around your shaft to press the tip of your glans to my clitoris to pleasure myself to another orgasm, your come spurting against that sweet, sweet spot, the scorching jets of your seed pushing me again to that white blinding light.

And as I come once again, I want you back inside me because I know that you’ll still be hard, I want you back inside me because it’s where you belong, I want you deep, I want you deep, to the hilt that has my back arching off the bed, I want you so deep your own need to come again will craze, will be maddening. I want you deep, I want you buried, I want you etched into my flesh. I want you deep, the slick sound of our arousal ringing in our ears. I want you deep, I want to watch, my eyes devouring the sight of your shaft glistening, conquering, emerging from that place, I want to reach down and touch the point where we are joined as one, to feel the wetness of our lust. I want you deep, I want you so deep inside me my heart skips, my mind fades, my breath ceases to be.

This is torture. This is agony. This desire, this need for you. And on this cold, stormy night, I wouldn’t have my ecstasy any other way.

Because

Because

The thought of you

This passion for you

Still tear this woman to shreds

Autumn’s Chill

The night is cold
Its darkness lonely
The warm softness of this body
Too great to bear

With the Body

The words they escape me, elude me, confound me as if language itself has refused me, forbidding my entry, casting me out to the wet and the cold and the shadows, banishing me to the silent periphery, coercing this confrontation not with the mind but instead with the body, with the body, with the body, with its meat and its bones and its blood coursing, pounding, with the body, with my body, with its pulse, its rhythm, its yearnings base, primal and erotic, with this body, with this flesh, with this body I thee worship, with this flesh bare, exposed and hungering, with this flesh lusting, with this flesh needing, with this flesh riven, undone, moments from its devastation, with its flesh that weeps, that seeps, that soaks, that fills the room with my sweet, pungent femininity, with this body, with this flesh, with its desire, with its desire violent, lawless, on this night unendurable, with its desire to be opened, to be revealed, to be savoured and devoured by mouth and tongue and hands and glans thick, hard and burning, with its desire to be touched, to be embraced, to be released and then imprisoned, to be at one with a considered, languid sensuality, with its desire for man, for the power only he can bear upon me, with its desire for man, for him, for you, for you to see me, to look down on me, for you to drown in my gaze as you sink yourself, wrap yourself, find yourself in, around, about me.

The Darkness in the Light

Each time we walk away, each time we part, I am lost, lost to myself, to the heat and heart of my desire, bare and adrift in the sensory deep, this body longing, yearning for your landfall, this mind myopic, these lips unable to articulate, this woman finding only darkness in the light.

Blue

Without you

Filling the space beside me

The secret ache inside me

There is nothing

Nothing

But the blue

Scent

Somehow, his scent lingers in the cuff, the heady mix of his cologne and his unique musk clinging to the luxurious towelling threads even after their purification in the water and the wind and the hot midday sun, enticing her to inhale deeply this reminder, to draw in his remainder, compelling her supple body to wake, to reach out, to crave his primal urgencies and lingering sensualities anew.

Jump Cut

Fitful sleep. A night of sirens, police choppers, climbing, roaring, planes. Tossing, turning, this weary body unable to rest. Sleep, sweet sleep, but only for a few precious moments, awoken again by the shadows clawing, touching, dancing across the walls. Waking at dawn, eyes stinging from little slumber, the birds singing, intermittently breaking the silence of the world around me safely tucked up in its bed.

And now, now, a restlessness born from the phantoms of the night, from the visions of the figure hovering over me, and now, now, a disquiet born from this yearning, this craving constant, unerring to have you, to have you, to have you in my bed, to have your hands on my body, to have you in my sex, to have you in every way I imagine, in every way I’ll never forget, in all the ways that hurtle through this mind, this body, this sexual soul, the images, the visions, whirring, racing, my fingers seeking out the soft, aching centres of pure sensation, the images, the visions flashing, rushing, jump cuts, time fragmented, space morphed, broken, each scene barely lingering, there and gone before it is present, an assault on my senses, scent and tang and the musk of naked bodies, the light, the darkness, the dim afternoon, that sultry jazz ballad weaving, binding us together, the rain splattering, the storm raging, the sun blistering our skin, your tongue tracing the outline of my lips, the kiss gentle then bruising, our mouths mashed together, hungry, devouring, clothes torn, shredded, your strength bending me backwards, bending me over the arm of the sofa, my breasts pressed into the table cold and wooden, your cockhead teasing my clitoris, your thumb feeding itself into my mouth, my lips and tongue suckling, devouring, fellating, craving most of all the cock standing proud between your legs, the collision of flesh, flesh on flesh, man in woman in a heated, carnal frenzy, my hand around your cock sliding you effortlessly into my hot, plump sodden cunt, my back arching, my legs wrapped tight around your waist, rubbing, sliding, sweat fusing, separating, our bodies on the floor fucking hard and mad and loud, my body beneath you, rising up to meet you, to have you inside me, another part of me, your cock swallowed by my cunt, your thick hard shaft teasing, gliding between the impossibly smooth dripping lips of my sex, my tongue licking the pearl of precum nestled in your head, your hand inside my panties as the movie screen flickers, as the sound booms around us, your fingers pressing inside me, curled and tucked, fucking me, killing me softly, my mouth moaning into the cock gliding between my lips, sucking you, willing you to come, willing your come to rise up and drown and mark and own me, your face between my legs, on your knees, licking and eating my cunt in that dark sheltered alleyway, the bustle of the city just a few short metres away, your eyes, your face, your mouth, your words of lust whispered hotly into my ear, your stubble on my neck, on my thighs, the globes of my arse, your flesh buried deep inside that forbidden virginal place, your flesh buried deep, deep, so deep, finding that little death and once again life, your flesh, your flesh, your come, my own fingers a fucking, fingering blur, my body spread out, this body breaking, my gasp, my moan, your name, my cry, your name ringing out, shattering, shattering the hush, demolishing the bricks and mortar of this haunted little room.

In the Midnight Dark

I search for you, wait for you in the night, this body reaching, reaching through the shadows, reaching for the man, the one, for you, this woman crying for the sweet kiss of your heat, for the communion of our flesh, for the meeting of desire, for the sensual, the lingering, for the frenzied, intimate embrace, for the shelter, the danger, for the forbidden pleasures of the midnight dark.

Temptation

  

You

Always will be

My greatest

My only

Temptation

Afterglow

It is only once your eyes, your lips, your hands are upon me, revealing my secrets, the mysteries of my most intimate flesh, it is only once we are joined here together, man plus woman, skin on skin, sex in sex, it is only once you bathe me in your heat, your sweat, your essence, your shimmering afterglow, does this want, this need, this lustful passion of mine make any sense.

Beauty Spot

He stands against the door, spellbound by the body on the bed, transfixed by the contrast of the black lingerie drawn tight against her fair skin, the delicate fingers slowly drawing down the cups of lace, the pert breasts topped with the palest pink and the crimson peaks he longs to take in turn between his lips, the creamy thighs splaying themselves languorously, the slender stockinged legs leading the way to the bloom demurely revealing itself, the petals throbbing, fluttering, glistening, the scarlet core dripping its sweet nectar, leaving him in no doubt of her desire.

Snapped out of his voyeuristic daze by her moan, he approaches with a composure at odds with the beast rising up inside him, with the primal urge to unzip himself, exposing the thick, insistent flesh between his legs and plunging it into the depths of her searing heat in one selfish stroke that would have her crying out his name in an instant.

Rather than giving in to this urgency – an urgency he now senses within her also as her scent begins to overpower the room – his gaze continues its teasing caress, travelling over the detail of the blue eyes with their long ebony lashes, the full sensuous mouth demanding to be kissed, the line of her neck, the hollow of her collarbone, the swell of her abdomen, the flare of her hips. And the two heart-shaped spots of beauty on her inner left thigh.

As his large hands finally take hold of her, sliding along the entire length of her body, up and down, down and up, her raspy breath the sweetest song, he makes a mental note to kiss the little twin hearts, tenderly, sensually, after he has fucked her with long, strong thrusts, after she has shuddered and screamed, begging for more, pleading him to stop, to kiss the little twin hearts, tenderly, sensually, after she has come hotly over his naked cock, after he has erupted with a violence that nearly tears him apart, to kiss the little twin hearts, tenderly, sensually, before leaving by their side his own unique and indelible mark.

Captivate

With your gentle touch, you soothe, seduce, you captivate. With your urgency, the force of your lust, you hold me in your palm, immobilise, you pin me hard, this woman a willing captive in wait.

Show

I long for you, I long to see you, right here, right now, right at this very moment, I long to see you stripped bare, your sartorial elegance reduced to a pile on the parquetry, your deep dark eyes on mine, your skin glowing, your imposing nakedness glistening, the low light dancing off the dark curls shadowing your body as you stand before me, as you touch yourself, as you stroke yourself for me, your muscular legs framing, your hips swaying, your forearm taut as you control, as you seduce the burnished glans in your fist.

Would you do that for me? Would you stroke your cock for me?

Would you allow me to watch you, would you allow this exhibitionist turned voyeur to sit in that armchair in the corner of my room clad in nothing but the black suspenders and stockings that dig deliciously into my lily white skin? Would you permit me to watch you stroke your throbbing shaft, your fingers easing back the foreskin, your thumb circling your oozing cockhead, your hand cupping your laden balls? Would you let me watch you, my sapphire gaze heavy with desire, skimming over your body, committing to memory every detail, my ears drowning in the sound of your breath, your voice, your affirmations, your groans as your take yourself to the edge? Would you let me watch you as I tease my own flesh, this body shivering, aching as I sink two fingers into my slick cunt, as I circle the plumpness of my clitoris, as I tease the rosy peaks of my fair breasts? Would you allow me to watch you, to watch you stroke yourself before I close the space between us, before my delicate hand pushes yours aside to take over, before my fingers are drenched in your heat, your scent? Would you stroke yourself for me, erupting loudly, violently only once I can bear the torture no longer, once I plead for you to come, once I beg for your come, your seed raining down upon my breasts, my belly, my thighs, running down the hungry lips of my mouth, the swollen lips of my cunt?

Would you do that for me? Would you stroke your cock for me? Would you show me the way to please you, to indulge the man, to pleasure his body, to sate your lustful passions with my hands, my lips, my tongue, my most intimate flesh, to take you to that brink of exhaustion and then revive you, over and over and over again?

Would you do that for me? Would you show yourself to me? Lover, would you show me the way?

Cede

She stands tall, she stands strong, she stands weak, riven and complete, alive as she has never been, a poised and slick and shivering contradiction at the mercy of his heat, craving, always craving his sweet touch, his thick, hard, perfecting flesh, longing him to traverse this cruel distance, this cold ticking time, this punishing space, silently pleading him to damn all consequence, to abandon his control, to cede to his passions, to the lust destroying her, to the need consuming them both.

Desire

My desire for you turns my rationality on its head. It always has. I suspect it always will. It leaves my stomach in knots, my mind crazed, this body on fire, so much so I fear for it, fear this passion will destroy, incinerate, reducing me to nothing but ash and dust, leaving nothing of worth for any other man.

And yet, I care little for my annihilation if it’s at your hand, if it’s at the altar of the man who embodies all that is erotic, all that is possibility, if it’s your body, your imposing strength, your hard thick intensely masculine flesh that takes possession of the woman I now am, of my bare and warm skin, of this slight form draped in the seductive accoutrements of all that is feminine, of the breasts and rosy peaks reaching out for the lightest of caresses, of the lips ever yearning for the softness of your mouth, for your throbbing and glistening sex, of the bright cunt coating your naked cock in this fiery essence, fucking me with your deep and carnal lust, making slow sensual love to me in the dark until you splash your seed, until I release my flood, until I draw the blood on your back, until you bruise me, until we mark, until you guide us, our moans and screams and barely whispered words to the light.

Benediction

If you were here, if you were mine, if we gave of ourselves completely, without reserve, just one more time, I would kneel before you, kiss your body with my warm skin, worship the man, the flesh hard and masculine, I would venerate, idolise, devour with soft lips, with velvet heat, with innocence and sin, I would open, give, surrender myself to you as I’ve only dared in my dreams.

Polish

She dips the brush into the small glass pot with delicate precision, immersing the bristles into the viscous varnish before gingerly hovering over her waiting nails, the first drops trickling a sensuous path down the plastic spines and finally free falling to splatter and gloss and transform the untouched purity on the end of her silky feet.

With each stroke, with each coat, her nails deepen and darken, the shallow red morphing into fresh cherry then lustrous ruby and ultimately the decadent scarlet of the wanton seductress never far from her surface, of the femme fatale whose craving for man, dangerous and overwhelming, engulfs her in the dead of night.

As she watches her toes bloom and glisten, she is reminded of her other scarlet place, the one held tight now by the fine ebony mesh bound around her hips, the pillowy mound accented with the shadow of a finely manicured triangle, the tip leading its way to the lips now impossibly smooth, to the petals plump and bright and yet again on fire as his voice, his words, his desire come back to her, working their way into her body, etching themselves into her very flesh.

With that smallest recollection, with that fleeting thought, he is suddenly there in front her, urging her to touch herself, to hook her feet and scarlet toes over the edge of the coffee table and spread herself open beneath the fine panties, to trace the lines of her full labia and the aching clitoris reaching out for his lips, to tease the wetness from her body until the mesh can no longer stand the flood, until the weave of the fabric gives out and her lust runs hotly down the insides of her thighs, her fingers circling, her palm then rubbing as he sits between her fair legs and begins to drink her in, kissing and licking through the black mesh, rasping his tongue across the material, pressing it into her cleft, into her cunt, drawing out her craving, her need to have him shred the fabric and bare her sex to the cool air, to the flat of his tongue, to have his mouth, his lips, his kiss against her naked flesh, to sate his desire to taste her, to hear her arousal, to have her hot sex pressed against his mouth until he can’t breathe without tasting her, without inhaling her, until his beard is literally sodden with her lust, until he feels orgasm after orgasm ripple then roar through her slight trembling frame, until his own visibly throbbing and oozing glans can take the torture no longer, until the promise of her mouth, her body, her oiled velvet heat opening up to him, utterly and completely, is too much to bear. 

e[lust] #34

Photo Courtesy of JM from There is No Spoon!

Welcome to e[lust] - Your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you’re looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you’re going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #35 ? Start with the rules, check out the schedule and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates! Note: Wondering why there is no Top 3 this edition? Read the latest Editor's Note to find out why, and what you can do to help prevent this from happening in the future.

~ Featured Posts (Picked by Lilly) ~

The Ultrasound and the Fury- I cried softly and my partner moved closer to the table so I could lay my cheek against him for comfort and support. Then they brandished a wand and explained they needed to take pictures inside of me. And told him to get out.

Vagina in the Wild - Adventures in Pantslessness - They are self-cleaning and self-lubricating. They are a wonderfully well designed body part that speaks of feminine power and beauty. They leave wet spots on the couch.

~ e[lust] Editress ~

The Ultimate Guide to Silicone Sex Toys – With Metis Black of Tantus, Inc. - I picked the brain of Metis Black, the fabulous woman behind Tantus Inc, makers of some very awesome silicone sex toys. Get your sex geek on and find out some myths and facts about silicone sex toys!

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!

Kink & Fetish

As Is Custom
Consent and negotiation
Fishnets and Spanking and Sleep
In room entertainment
Ladies' Night: My First Time at an All-Womens' Sex Party
Learn the rope of knots: Overhand Knot
slapping...drinking...and other wacky fun...
That Moment

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

An Open Letter to Rush Limbaugh
Erotic-On Me
Eyes Wide Smut
Strangers on a Train

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Bondage Insecurities
Cunnilingus 101
Getaway Sex vs Everyday Sex
Gifts from Lover's
Innies, Outties & 3-Ways
Im 35 and My Mum Can Hear Me Having Sex
Mono or Poly
Mmm, the kissage!
Never Pinch a Sadist #3: Relationship Rules
Primary? Alpha?
Safewords in the Real World
Shields
The long distance thing
The Next Evolution – Swinging-Open Marriage-Polyamory

Erotic Writing

A Good Day and Sexzy Night
50 Ways to Fuck Your Lover
Blissful Candlelit Climax
Cunny Honey
Easy Like Sunday Mornings
Fingertips
first date
In which... I go to my first party (Part I)
I’m the SlutHow It All Started
Mount'n Dew
Our Sex Diary (Part Two!)
Rain
Rendezvous
Some Truth...About Cocksucking
Sensuality
She Takes Control
The Chair - The Execution
The Beast
That Familiar Maddening Thrill
The Importance of (Emotional and Physical) Self-Love
Vignette 2: Traffic Stop
Working Out
Whore’s Mouth

Bring On The Night

Leave the words behind

For they merely tear us asunder

Give instead your body, your flesh

Grant me the depths of your desire

Forget the limits, the boundaries

Cast the sobering day aside

Come to me, drink me in

Bring on the night

When He Speaks

When he speaks, from near and from afar, when he speaks into her fair skin in the dark, when he speaks into the trembling flesh pressed into the cool stucco of the wall, when he speaks the unutterable desire surging, coursing, burning inside her, when he speaks to the passions that render her own soft voice mute, when he speaks her name, the syllables released, caressed by his breath, when he speaks, when he confesses, when his deep and accented rumble admits his body yearns for her touch, his lips for her kiss, his cock for her cunt, when he speaks the words she holds close, she holds dear, when he speaks of her, when he speaks to her, when he speaks this woman is his.

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?

Daisy Chain

Run your hand
Skim your tips
Brush your lips
Along the daisy chain
Along these petals
Blushing, burning bright
Along the flower
This blooming sensuality
Aching to be plucked
In the hot sun's blinding light

Memento

I want you. I want you.

No, I need you.

I need you here in this room, in my bed, between the sheets that caress my own nakedness. I need your sweat, your come, our libations to stain their lily whiteness, to leave that indelible and remarkable trace. I need your cock, thick and hard and glistening, shining my lips, skidding across my tongue, sinking into the tightness, embraced by my velvet heat. I need your mouth, your lips, I need your kiss. I need these walls to hear the deep timbre of your voice, your wanton words. I need these walls to record your sigh, your gasp, your groan. I need the bricks, the mortar to drink in your unique musk, your addictive scent. I need you soaked into the very fabric of this feminine space, onto my fair skin, into my aching flesh.

I need you. I need this. I need all of this and so much more. But more than anything, I need this place to remember, to release your essence once you’re gone. I need the reminders, those erotic and sultry mementos to relive our passion once I’m alone.

Renaissance

Caressed
By the sun
Witness
To its light
Reborn
In the glory
Marvelling
At this day
At this sweet life

From the Break of Day to the Midnight Storm

I woke alone, naked beneath the crisp, cotton whiteness, the birds chirping, sun shining, my body reaching, reaching out for that absent other, for him, for the sweetness of his touch.

I woke with this yearning, as I invariably do each and every day, with the longing for that sleepy, somewhat dreamy caress, for the sensual intimacy unique to the breaking of a brand new day, for the coming together of my soft feminine slightness and his warm, imposing strength, for his fingers, for your fingers, your fingers trailing the line of my neck, for your palm resting lightly against my face, for your tips teasing at the lobe, weaving through the curls at my nape, for the lips brushing the very trail your digits had forged only moments before, for your kiss, profound and searching, for my body opening to yours, for my leg hooked over your muscular thigh, for your glans, hard and thick and burnished sliding through the plump, bright, glistening folds, for your shaft, pulsing, hungry nudging at my needy portal, for your hand on my curves, on my hip, for mine on your chest, your shoulders, around your neck, for the moment of our meeting, for that resistance, for that acceptance, for that give, for that take, for that pure and perfecting and violating bliss, for your flesh buried so deep I know not where I begin or where you end, for the crest, for the peak, for my come on your cock, for your come splashing against my walls, for the come I need to feel, to be woman, to be alive, to be complete.

And now the morning has faded and the darkness is here and the summer storm is raging and with it appears the vampiric lust that taunts me in the night, that need for your carnality, for the beast who rises with a look, with a breathtaking ease, for the wolf at one with the thundering skies, with the lightning and its violent platinum whip, for the one who will patiently stalk me as I enter the room dressed in this diaphanous ebony finery, in the accoutrements of femininity you love so very well, in the laces, silks and satins you will tug and tear and shred to have me exposed to your needs, to have me as you want me once again, to truly possess this fair and burning flesh, to fuck me, to fuck me hard, to fuck me from behind bent over the frame of the bed, to fuck me, to fuck me hard and fast to the limit, to the edge, to fuck this tight little cunt like the crashing world outside will end, to fuck me until I whimper, until I cry, until I scream, until you groan, until you roar, until my juices and your seed blister their way into our skin, into our flesh, into our very souls.

The Veil

There’s nothing now, nothing but the night, nothing but you and me, nothing but us two, nothing but the longing to feel your kiss, your breath hot and heavy against my skin, nothing but the yearning to have you caress my curves through this silk, nothing but the need to have you ease up this gossamer veil, to have you bare my body to your gaze, to have you reveal my fairness to the light, to have you slip your hand between my thighs, to have your fingers trace this arousal flowing free, to have your fingers slide into the velvet of my fire, to have you take me, to have your hot hard flesh join me, to have the desire that will always complete me.

Reverie

And as I float away
On this platinum sea

To that distant plane

My otherworldly reverie
It’s always you
Hand outstretched
Waiting there for me

This Aching Lightness

If I could have you, if I could have you hold me, embrace me, enfold me, if I could have your gaze lingering upon me, if I could have you caress and trace and know me, if I could have the aching lightness of your touch, of your tips, your fingers, the tenderness of your rough palms, if I could have your lips whispering, whispering, whispering my name, whispering and moaning, singing into this here trembling flesh, the flesh and skin and bones of the woman sensual, of the woman bountiful, if I could have you right now, if I could have all of you without thought for the cruel tomorrow, without consideration of any other than the two of us in this moonlit room, if I could have you close to me, your body fused to me, your hot hard perfecting flesh buried deep inside me, if I could have you lose yourself in me, find yourself with me, be at one, be free, be distinct with me, if I could have you, if I could have you, this moment, this time, this life would be absolute, complete.

At the Day's End

At the day's dark end, at its quietly lit beginning, all I crave, all I truly desire is passion, is love, the one to embrace, the man to behold, his body to caress, skin to kiss, lips to trace, this soul to know.

Night

It’s one of those nights.

It’s one of those hot sultry nights, the kind that follows an even hotter, more humid day. It’s the kind of night your body begs for nakedness, for the merest whisper of fabric would suffocate, would burn, would blister the glow radiating off your fair silken skin.

It’s one of those nights.

It’s one of those close steamy nights where the coolness of the crisp white cotton drawn tight across your bed never fails to curve your lips as you lay your body down, as you sink into the darkness, as you listen to the whir of the fan and the low chirp of cicadas, your eyes fluttering against the smallest rays of light and the sleep that’s beckoning, calling.

It’s one of those nights.

It’s one of those fiery nights that not only scalds but brands your flesh, your mind, your soul, cruelly plucking at your memory, ruthlessly enticing the yearning to merge yourself with that other, to loose yourself in another’s heat, to abandon the woman to that lingering sensual moment, to that momentum, to that torrent, to that violent torrent of hunger and greed and touch and sweat and moans and clashing lips and limbs and straining muscles and cries and groans and come. And come.

It’s one of those nights.

Ossessione

If I press these fingers to my lips, if I hush the lone sweet sigh, if I silence the thoughts, the tumble of words, if I surrender my soul to the quiet, will this light fade to black, will this desire cease its blush, its course, its flow, will this obsession, this beguiling devastation, leave me at last alone?

Stretch

His footsteps are heavy, weary, thudding a path into the carpeted office floor.

Yet once he reaches the door, stretching his six-foot frame on the steel and glass barrier, his body – youthful, proportioned and disciplined – suddenly betrays a lightness, a weightlessness, an effortless masculine eroticism that instantly morphs my glance into a lingering gaze.

As his image is reflected and then just as quickly refracted in the conference room prism, I muse on that body broad, on that body divided, on the curve of his torso once abandoned and unadorned, the tension in his arms as he strains against the binds drawn tight, the heat of his bronzed skin after my flesh has finally met his, the wiry curls on his chest framed in the formality of starched white cotton, the eyes clear and wanting and blazing, the mouth poised for my cunt, my libations, my deep unrelenting kiss, the scent, the tang of his throbbing and thickening sex.

The Wait

Lover
Lay your hands upon me
Spare me nothing
Of your depths, of your desire
End this suffering
The wait so long and lonely
This yearning
That taunts me in the night

Wonder

It is only once he groans in pleasured anguish, once his hips buck to feed his thick hard flesh ever deeper, once he gasps and unconsciously wonders out loud if he'll ever feel my sweet cunt again does my mouth stop its lustful assault, my tongue raking along the soft skin of his shaft one final time to scoop up the pearl nestled in his head, before I straddle his thighs and bear my slight body down to give him the blistering heat of my slick needy sex.

Ebony

In the darkness, in the shadows, in the bands of golden light, in the hour of my witching, in hour of your wolf, my body calls and whispers, it moans and whimpers for your touch, for your fingers to wind themselves around these gossamer bands of ebony, for your knuckles to graze this soft fair shivering flesh, for your skin hot and rough against these peaks hard and beckoning, for your tips, your palms to map the curves, the swells, this woman here before you, for your tips, your palms, your hands to caress with measured sensuality, to seize with a rapacious urgency, for the body of man to explore, to discover, to know the bright glistening font of my pleasure pure and true.

In the Still

You linger. You linger still.

You linger in the quiet, in the hush, in the velvet shadows of this sultry night, in the silvery glow of the moon, in the fine beads prickling my skin, in the delicate fingers tracing the body of your once incendiary desire, in the whisper, the whimper, in the cry, in the bloom of my lips, the tingling of my tongue, the breasts creamy and fair, the nipples of the softest pink, in the peaks of the darkest crimson reaching out for your sweet kiss, in the sensual sway of my hips as I ease away the cotton, the lace, the silk sodden with my deep, demanding feminine lust.

You linger. You linger still.

You linger in the noise, in the riot, in the late summer storm, in the lightning cracking its whip, in the blood thudding, pumping through these veins, in the bright glistening cunt aching, longing, yearning for your perfecting flesh, in the cries, in the moans as my passion climbs its way to you, as it finds you, as you find me, as you come back to me, your body under me, your hard thick uncut cock impaled inside my clutching sex, this fine back arching, my hands seizing, giving, committing to memory the masculinity, the man who invariably leaves me weak, our bodies gliding, our bodies grinding, your own hands touching, possessing, reaching up to stifle, to bind, to free the screams of our darkest carnal pleasure.

You linger. You linger still.

You linger in the here, in the now, you linger and take me, you linger and claim me, with the slightest word, with the smallest gesture, with the voice, the breath mellifluous, reaching out from across the sea, from the other side, from this room of our own, your body my shelter, your desire my home.

One Last Time

Be mine
As the setting sun tints our skin

Be mine
As the summer heat draws us close

Be mine
As the glisten, the glow fuse our bodies together

Be mine
Be mine
Just one last time

New Year Dawning

May this New Year
Hold you close
Hold you tight
Keep you safely in its palm
Bathe you in its golden lustre
Its passion, love and warmth

Wishing you all a very happy, prosperous and cheeky 2012.

Minx x

HNT: Ninety-five (Fin)

Baby
For us
This isn’t the end
It’s merely the beginning

(click)

(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players
and his special post bidding HNT a very fond farewell.
And on a more personal note:
Thank you, Os. It's been an honour, a pleasure and a blast...)