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In Here (*erotic prose)
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In Here (*erotic prose) In Here Outside a wind chill and harsh does blow, and inside we lie spread across this bed. The heater purrs through floor vents, so the bed clothes we have cast aside. I begin to trace your lines, along the obvious, down the spine. My warm hands stroke, and smooth, and roll across your buttocks curve. You stir a little, perhaps disturbed, perhaps more awake than you convey, and then spread your legs slightly wider. My hand again strokes down the length of spine, a potter's caress over the richest most malleable clay. I hear you breath, and relax anew, and beyond your buttocks again I reach.......sliding over, feel heat from beneath, and as your legs are slightly apart along inner thighs my fingers, stroking, dancing, reach. A while they stay, feather-light brushing back and forth, and then those inquisitive fingers, and obedient hand, track along spine to shoulders. I sense in you a slight impatience, a wanting and needing, and desiring more substance; and so lower my head. Upon your shoulders kisses, tasting, leave, and then upon your throat direct - more kisses to your rest divert......and upon your brow, and down to cheek, and then tracking around our lips meet. Wet, and hot, and full, I could kiss, and kiss, and kiss, these lips and tongue tip forever and a day, and yet there is more sensual acts in the bedroom in this play..... My lips retreat, and then my hands, both sliding from shoulders, cross either side of the spinal lands, caressing and stroking as they descend, toward your buttocks curve anew; that sweet rear end. And as I reach this point I hear your breath pause, notice your legs spread wider once more, a welcome call. My hands sweep over hips and waist, then with no time wasted, slip over the mound beneath you concealed, and stroking firmly feel the humid tropical damp, where I will, when times allows, my mouth in tasting, devouring and passion hungry, clamp until my tongue is weary and you are tender, For now I raise your hips, and stroke across that molten core, sensual caresses, neither too hard nor too light, knowing just how your senses to excite. A playful finger draws within that hot well, stroking the walls and lifting the rising dew, and spreading with tiny swirling circles the nectar within..... Without any further prompting you raise your hips higher, shift your knees to raise your buttocks, indicating your desire, your heat, and the shine of your skin, the warmth and succulent taste, makes me as aroused as you, The scents of us, fill the bedroom warm, while outside it is chill and cold. Placing a pillow under you, I slide behind and slightly atop; taking my own weight on my arms astride your body,....then slowly, teasingly, slip into the well moistened, dripping,, sensitive cup.....at the entrance my hardness gently rubs, back and forth, almost imperceptible in depth, not plunging in,....... begin feeling the short moves sensuous of your hips trying to draw me in further.....and then at point where you push back to the rhythm set, I move deeper, to the deepest thrust, my hardness settles yet..... you begin to move in time to my own natural free rutting, as each in this rhythm caught, and pace begins to accelerate, and your breath is growing shorter, and you are clinging to bed-sheets as you piston your hips back and forth, and deeper I slide, and the clean thrusts, mixed with those where I vary direction and weight, to move over all sensitive spots, and touch all, as we mate.... and then, as I hear you begin to cry out for release, an exclamation marked shout, my fingers slip beneath you anew, beneath the beauty of you, and thumbing, rubbing, rolling, upon your clitoris, a bellows of sparks added to the fire set..... the blaze no more apart or sense of rational thought, in throes of passion volcanic we are caught, embracing and riding these abruptly rising waves, till peak is reached, and all rest of world ceases to be..... ....as I cling to you, and you cling to me, our breathing ragged, and bodies soaring,.. ....for brief moments eclipsing all imagination....... ....and then we fall to bed once more, tangled, and smiling, and snuggle close....for outside it is raining, and a chill is in the air, and how cold it seems outside; and how warm and safe and true in here. Thoughts in sensual pleasure to erotic writing writ. Feel free to travel - click - to my blog: An exploration introduction |
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