Aug 242008
 


The best pleasure comes from denial of said pleasure.

Drag it out. Make him wait.

With dangerous eyes and a smirk of teasing mischief, I drag one palm down his chest. Like a homing missile, my fingertips deftly locate the solid head of his cock which is trapped in his jeans and pointing at such an awkward angle….poor thing. Some circular rubbing to tease through fabric before I abandon it for the buttons and zipper. His cock springs forward after its long-awaited release, already glistening with pre-come.

With my hand wrapped around his cock I rub the semen over the tip, a momentary feel of lubrication on dry skin. I run my hand lightly from the base, up the underside, skit over the head, back down the topside. Repeat. Watch his cock dance and his body twitch in anticipation.

My hand goes lower to grip the base firmly and I let just the tip of my tongue drag up his cock from the base, stopping halfway. Again, going a little farther. Again, up to the tip. Again, this time with a flatted tongue, firm pressure. When I hear the sharp intake of breathe and see his cock twitch as I near the frenulum, I pause there. Lower lip pressed against hard silky flesh, my tongue now languishing on that spot. There is no other movement save for my tongue. Just a few….more…centimeters and he would be in my mouth. He is holding is breathe now, I can tell, waiting for me to plunge him into warm wetness.

But I drag back down with my lips. Back up with my tongue. Closer now, he can feel moist breathe enveloping the head of his cock and my tongue swirls in circles around it. Almost….nope. Not yet.

He is shaking. His legs are trembling. His hands alternate between clenching and opening, going for my head. He is contemplating an act of force, I know, out of sheer desperation. But he knows that this time I am in control, and he lets me do my thing.

My next acrobatic tongue-trip up lands my lips wrapped around the head. No sucking. Just swirling tongue, pressure of lips, wetness and heat.

I stop. Stare at him. Teasing smirk on my end, begging eyes on his end.

In a moment, he’ll get his due.

*********************************************************************************

Ok seriously, isn’t that picture pretty cool? Bought a new camera Saturday – it is not my coveted DSLR but it is such a little whore for attention with its big bag of tricks. This neat little thing was called “color accent”. The whole bra is red but the color accent is finicky and likes certain lighting. There’s another from this series to come in due time. This teasing session started with an awful case of blue-balls by the lucky man taking the photos. As he expressed his growing problem and desperate want, I merely giggled and told him to continue with the pictures. Waiting never killed anyone…

Aug 222008
 

Eye on what I’m after
I don’t need another friend
Nod and watch your lips move
If you need me to pretend
Because clever got me this far
Then tricky got me in
I’ll take just what I came for
Then I’m out the door again

“The Package” – A Perfect Circle

I’m going to use him. And him, too. And well, maybe, him.
Take what I need to get my mind off of him.
Take what I need to let my slut out. This girl is on the prowl for fresh meat.

I’ll let you think you’re in control, with your whispered “slut” and “whore” incantations, with your physical dominance over me. I know what I’m doing. I know what I want. I know what I don’t want – pointless excuses, dramatic tension – put up or shut up. Forget the boys, where are the men?

I want cock. In my mouth, on my tongue, in my hand, on my lips, in my cunt.
I want wet electricity from your lips, grazing my skin. Kiss me as if you were taking my last breath from me. Use my body as I use yours. Peel me back, layer by layer, until I’m raw and naked. When you say “come for me”, I will, for me. Is the control mine? Is it yours?

I’ll take just what I came for

Sheet-clenching
Nail-scratching
Heart-pounding

Sex.

Then I’m out the door again…

Jul 202008
 

I’m a very orally fixated person. It is evident in my appreciation for gourmet food. My longing and love of a good long makeout session. My occasional cigarette.

My inability to resist wrapping my lips around a hard cock.

Hard firm cock, soft smooth skin. It is my aim to reduce you to a blithering, sexually-crazed shell of a man. My hands, eyes, lips, tongue all just gravitate to a hard cock.

A firm hand around the base, stroking with the rhythm of my mouth, up and down. A twist perhaps of my head on the upward pull of suction. Swirling tongue over the head. Warm soft hand caressing balls, firmly pressing the perineum.

I crave the taste of the skin, my tongue memorizing you. Up, down, soft and firm, shaft and head, balls and more. I am hungry, I can’t get enough.

You will not know which way is north; the distinction between warm wet mouth and sloppy wet fingers is soon indiscernible. Our moans mingle together. Weave your fingers through my hair at the nape, guide me. Teasingly slow yet strong suction. Lingering down low, teasing at the tip. Faster, your moans egg me on, your hands pushing me just enough. Saliva running down your shaft, lubricating my fingers that work their own brand of magic. Slurping, devouring you, never enough, give me more of you. Hands, mouth, blurred.

I look up at you with fuck-me eyes, but instead they say “cum for me, lover”.