Does anyone else like writing sex stories? The Mrs. asked me to write her one while I'm gone, so this is what I came up with. For anyone interested in meeting up with her, this is a decent look at what she's into. Let me know what you think, and if you like it, give it a nice rating at the bottom of the second page! http://www.i.literotica.com/stories/showstory.php?id=1424278&page=1
desktop version should be: https://www.literotica.com/s/rebekah-and-ashley
Feel free to share yours as well!
desktop version should be: https://www.literotica.com/s/rebekah-and-ashley
Feel free to share yours as well!
Thanks for sharing,,,, had me on edge ;-)
Great story we really enjoyed it
DRAGONORCHID wrote:
I sometimes do these writing warm-up exercises that tend to take on a life of their own. Not very good, but here's one...
Your text to link here...
Very nice beginning,,, has me waiting for more
great story
Glad you all enjoyed! I'll post another one this week
TEAMHINDENBERG wrote:
Here's a new submission, with another one in the works! This one is a Professor/student, dom/sub type of story. Feel free to rate it 5 stars at the end if you liked it and feel free to leave a comment on it too. Enjoy!
Desktop version: here
Mobile version: here
Incredible story, great way to start a good edging session
Here's one I wrote...about a sensual massage experience...
I was just getting ready to end for the day, when she walked in the door. She wanted to know if I could fit her in for a massage before I ended for the night. I told her yes, showed her the room, asked her to disrobe to her level of comfort, telling her that most women chose either to be fully nude or to keep their underwear on, told her then to cover herself to her level of comfort, pointing to the folded sheet and towels, and then I quickly relit the candles and started the soft Tantric Flow music before stepping out of the room. I heard her stepping out of her jeans before I went to wash my hands, to disrobe myself and get back into my yoga pants and shirt for massaging.
When I stepped into the room, it was refreshing for me to notice that she was comfortable enough with me to be lying on the massage table, with her soft skin bathed in candlelight, her naked form shimmering in the warm glow, and then I noticed her black thong that was peeking from her cheeks and outlining them. "Perfection!" I thought to myself. I loved the view of this woman lying before me, her dark hair spreading down her back, accentuating the blackness of her thong panties. Oh, how I loved the way her derriere was separated, highlighted, displayed for me with those panties.
I warmed my hands by rubbing them together and then started some small talk as I began massaging her back. She was from out of town, had been working long days, and needed some stress relief. As the massage continued with her arms, her hands, then down her back, the talking lessened. She was becoming more relaxed and warming to my touch. I moved her long hair from one side to the other, exposing one side of her back then the other. At times I would catch glimpses of the side of a ample breast as it pressed into the table, but I made sure that my strokes did not encroach upon their space. She was, after all, here for a stress relieving massage.
As my massage continued down to her buttocks, I spoke of the benefits of a buttock massage, how most people don't give much thought or attention to the glutes, but that my massage is a whole body massage and that I would like for her to receive the whole treatment. At first she demurred a bit, and I could tell she was struggling internally with the idea of my hands being on her ass in such an intimate way. But my persistence finally won. I mentioned that it would be better if her thong was not in the way, and would she mind taking it off. She really balked at this. I finally began stroking her buttocks in circular motions, and really massaged into her glutes. I could tell she was liking the effect. I could also tell that she was not liking the effect of having her thong in the way each time my hands moved across it. My persistence paid off, as she finally lifted her hips, and with her hand moved the strap down over her hip. I took her cue and hooked my fingers into each strap and swiftly removed her thong from her derriere, pausing for her to shift her weight from off her knees so that I could sweep them off her legs entirely. I paused only slightly to sniff them before tossing them onto the chair that her clothes were draped over.
I massaged down her legs, over her calves, and spent a lot of time on her feet. Women really enjoy the time I spend on their feet. There is something refreshing, tranquil, and healing about having someone spend time pampering you like this. I hoped she was enjoying it. As I traveled upward I moved to her inner calves, then her inner thighs. Nothing untoward, but I did really massage her inner thighs. I spent a lot of time with soft, effleurage strokes from her inner knee, then slowly moving up with each stroke, slightly higher with each stroke, until I was near the top of her thigh. Long, slow strokes. I then moved to the other side of the table. And when I moved, I noticed she shifted her legs, parting them slightly, as if to give me more room to work, more room to touch. Was she inviting me to move my strokes higher up her inner thigh?
As I moved to the other side of the table, I noticed that she moved her legs further apart. She also moved her head to the other side, so that she faced me, gathering her long hair and tucking it behind her ear, so that I could see her face clearly in the candlelight. I again started at her foot and moved slowly higher up her leg, to her inner knee, then slowly up her inner thigh, with soft strokes, higher and higher. She shifted again, further parting her legs. It was unmistakable. She was inviting me. No words were necessary, no discussion was needed. I knew what she needed to feel pampered, what she needed to relieve stress, what she needed to release. So now, as my strokes neared the apex of her thighs, instead of pulling my hands away, I slowed my hands down and let them linger, allowing my fingers to softly trace along the outer-most edge of her womanhood. Not quite touching anything, but not shying away either. Each stroke was getting just a bit more contact, just a bit closer, just a bit more intimate, a bit more sensual.
I decided to really test her reaction, so on my next stroke upward, as my hand traveled her inner thigh to near the apex, I surprised her by turning my hand and fully capturing her womanhood in my hand, letting my fingers rest against the entire length of her womanhood and just cup its warmth with my warm hand. The instant I did this, her lips opened and she gasped. Not only that, but her hand that had been at her side, reached out and grasped my hip, partly on my hip and partly on my buttock. Her grip was firm, tight, demanding. She just held on as I kept my hand motionless on her womanhood. I didn't say a word, she didn't say a word, but her breathing was rapid and shallow, as if she was waiting for something to happen, tense, alert, anticipating.
I moved my hand from off her womanhood and stroked from her knee, upward again. This time as I got to the top of her inner thigh, I let my fingers trace the outer length of her outer lip. I could feel her wetness from within, and felt her hips move, almost involuntarily, seeking more contact. I smiled at her reaction, but kept up my kneading of her outer lip between my thumb and forefinger, feeling her wetness on my finger, knowing that my hands were creating this desire within her body. Her hand had traveled from my hip and was now firmly squeezing my buttock, kneading the flesh over and over as I kneaded the soft flesh of her lip with my fingers.
I then moved to the other side of the table, and while so doing I deftly dropped my yoga pants to the floor. When I touched her inner thigh and up to her other lip, I again felt her wetness and massaging her outer lip, kneaded it, giving it the same attention I had the other side. Her hand again search out my body, and paused as it felt that the thin material was no longer a barrier. Her hand sought after and found my hardness, squeezing me, grasping my hardness and simply holding on. I loved this part of the massage, when a woman really accepted what was happening, that I was there to pleasure her, to bring her pleasure, that she could simply lie there and receive, that she didn't have to think about positions or mechanics or love making or anything. This was all about her, all about her pleasure, all about her climax, all about her orgasm.
I then moved her legs further apart so that I had complete and total access to her womanhood. I got a bolster from below the table and hinted that she lift her hips and inserted it under her hips. This tilted her hips, allowing greater access to her womanhood, opening her, as if exposing her unashamedly to my gaze, to my fingers, to allow me complete and total access to her very core.
My fingers then teased up and down her slit, using her wetness as lubricant, wetting my fingers and allowing them to easily slip from outer lips to inner lips and even to her core, teasing her, hinting at slipping inside. But I didn't slip them inside yet. That was not to happen yet. I still had to tease her clitoral hood, all around her clit, not actually touching her clit, mind you, but all around. My ministrations were driving her wild. Her breathing was labored, her hips were straining for more contact, her lips were open and I watched as she wet them with her tongue. Only then did she open her eyes and look at me with desire and passion behind those eyes. Oh yes, she was aroused and wanted so badly to be brought to climax. But I was in control of this experience, I was her master, I was her lover for tonight, I was the one that was bringing her pleasure, I was the one that would decide when she could crest over the precipice and burst into a million points of light.
Her hand reached down to cup my sac and knead my balls as my fingers busied themselves around her clit, all around, over and over and over. She was going wild with desire and need. Only then did I slip a finger deep into her wet, warm tunnel. She moaned a low guttural moan of pleasure as her hips spasm-ed involuntarily. My invading finger slipped deeply into her warmth and began moving in and out of her slickness, mimicking what she wanted, what she needed. In and out my finger moved, only then to be joined by another and yet another. She jerked and moaned and said, "YES!" over and over. "YES, YES, YES! It feels so good! I feel so full!" My fingers twisted as they moved inside her warmth. Now was the time. She was so very aroused, so very turned on, so very near, so ready to climax, so ready to orgasm. Now it was time. As my fingers twisted and moved within her warm tunnel, I moved my thumb into position and rubbed it directly on her clit. That did it. She spasmed and humped her hips into the table, then into my hands, over and over and over. Her hand that was kneading my sac when back to my shaft and stroked it in time with her humping hips...and then I felt it. I felt her womanhood rhythmically tighten and clamp down on my invading fingers over and over again. She was climaxing. And she was stroking my shaft in long strokes to the timing of her orgasm that was clamping down on my fingers. Well, that did it for me as well. I began shooting my cum, pumping arc after arc into the air in time with her rhythmic clamping, my cum shooting so very high over her body, hitting the wall, then losing pressure and shooting onto her bare back, her bare buttocks, her bare leg. I was breathing hard, she was breathing hard, her body was still climaxing even after my orgasm had come and gone, so my fingers never stopped, they just continued, until finally she asked me to slow down, that her clit was becoming too sensitive. I slowed, bringing her back into reality slowly, no hurry, no rush, just taking my time, bring her down from her high, gauging from her breathing. When she was relaxed, I then used a warm washcloth to clean her off, taking my time to ensure I cleaned all of my cum from her body. She smiled at me as I was doing this, then looked at my shrunken member and motioned for me to come closer to her. I moved closer, and she took my little guy into her mouth to clean him off, smiling at me as commenting that I tasted good.
As I was gathering my clothes to leave the room, I wondered if I will see this woman again. But before I left, she motioned me back over to the table as she raised up on her elbows to whisper to me, "next time, be more aggressive, more rough. I like to feel the man is in control and I'm there to be used for his pleasure. My man would love it if I came home to him and told him how you used me for your own gratification."
Until next time...
I was just getting ready to end for the day, when she walked in the door. She wanted to know if I could fit her in for a massage before I ended for the night. I told her yes, showed her the room, asked her to disrobe to her level of comfort, telling her that most women chose either to be fully nude or to keep their underwear on, told her then to cover herself to her level of comfort, pointing to the folded sheet and towels, and then I quickly relit the candles and started the soft Tantric Flow music before stepping out of the room. I heard her stepping out of her jeans before I went to wash my hands, to disrobe myself and get back into my yoga pants and shirt for massaging.
When I stepped into the room, it was refreshing for me to notice that she was comfortable enough with me to be lying on the massage table, with her soft skin bathed in candlelight, her naked form shimmering in the warm glow, and then I noticed her black thong that was peeking from her cheeks and outlining them. "Perfection!" I thought to myself. I loved the view of this woman lying before me, her dark hair spreading down her back, accentuating the blackness of her thong panties. Oh, how I loved the way her derriere was separated, highlighted, displayed for me with those panties.
I warmed my hands by rubbing them together and then started some small talk as I began massaging her back. She was from out of town, had been working long days, and needed some stress relief. As the massage continued with her arms, her hands, then down her back, the talking lessened. She was becoming more relaxed and warming to my touch. I moved her long hair from one side to the other, exposing one side of her back then the other. At times I would catch glimpses of the side of a ample breast as it pressed into the table, but I made sure that my strokes did not encroach upon their space. She was, after all, here for a stress relieving massage.
As my massage continued down to her buttocks, I spoke of the benefits of a buttock massage, how most people don't give much thought or attention to the glutes, but that my massage is a whole body massage and that I would like for her to receive the whole treatment. At first she demurred a bit, and I could tell she was struggling internally with the idea of my hands being on her ass in such an intimate way. But my persistence finally won. I mentioned that it would be better if her thong was not in the way, and would she mind taking it off. She really balked at this. I finally began stroking her buttocks in circular motions, and really massaged into her glutes. I could tell she was liking the effect. I could also tell that she was not liking the effect of having her thong in the way each time my hands moved across it. My persistence paid off, as she finally lifted her hips, and with her hand moved the strap down over her hip. I took her cue and hooked my fingers into each strap and swiftly removed her thong from her derriere, pausing for her to shift her weight from off her knees so that I could sweep them off her legs entirely. I paused only slightly to sniff them before tossing them onto the chair that her clothes were draped over.
I massaged down her legs, over her calves, and spent a lot of time on her feet. Women really enjoy the time I spend on their feet. There is something refreshing, tranquil, and healing about having someone spend time pampering you like this. I hoped she was enjoying it. As I traveled upward I moved to her inner calves, then her inner thighs. Nothing untoward, but I did really massage her inner thighs. I spent a lot of time with soft, effleurage strokes from her inner knee, then slowly moving up with each stroke, slightly higher with each stroke, until I was near the top of her thigh. Long, slow strokes. I then moved to the other side of the table. And when I moved, I noticed she shifted her legs, parting them slightly, as if to give me more room to work, more room to touch. Was she inviting me to move my strokes higher up her inner thigh?
As I moved to the other side of the table, I noticed that she moved her legs further apart. She also moved her head to the other side, so that she faced me, gathering her long hair and tucking it behind her ear, so that I could see her face clearly in the candlelight. I again started at her foot and moved slowly higher up her leg, to her inner knee, then slowly up her inner thigh, with soft strokes, higher and higher. She shifted again, further parting her legs. It was unmistakable. She was inviting me. No words were necessary, no discussion was needed. I knew what she needed to feel pampered, what she needed to relieve stress, what she needed to release. So now, as my strokes neared the apex of her thighs, instead of pulling my hands away, I slowed my hands down and let them linger, allowing my fingers to softly trace along the outer-most edge of her womanhood. Not quite touching anything, but not shying away either. Each stroke was getting just a bit more contact, just a bit closer, just a bit more intimate, a bit more sensual.
I decided to really test her reaction, so on my next stroke upward, as my hand traveled her inner thigh to near the apex, I surprised her by turning my hand and fully capturing her womanhood in my hand, letting my fingers rest against the entire length of her womanhood and just cup its warmth with my warm hand. The instant I did this, her lips opened and she gasped. Not only that, but her hand that had been at her side, reached out and grasped my hip, partly on my hip and partly on my buttock. Her grip was firm, tight, demanding. She just held on as I kept my hand motionless on her womanhood. I didn't say a word, she didn't say a word, but her breathing was rapid and shallow, as if she was waiting for something to happen, tense, alert, anticipating.
I moved my hand from off her womanhood and stroked from her knee, upward again. This time as I got to the top of her inner thigh, I let my fingers trace the outer length of her outer lip. I could feel her wetness from within, and felt her hips move, almost involuntarily, seeking more contact. I smiled at her reaction, but kept up my kneading of her outer lip between my thumb and forefinger, feeling her wetness on my finger, knowing that my hands were creating this desire within her body. Her hand had traveled from my hip and was now firmly squeezing my buttock, kneading the flesh over and over as I kneaded the soft flesh of her lip with my fingers.
I then moved to the other side of the table, and while so doing I deftly dropped my yoga pants to the floor. When I touched her inner thigh and up to her other lip, I again felt her wetness and massaging her outer lip, kneaded it, giving it the same attention I had the other side. Her hand again search out my body, and paused as it felt that the thin material was no longer a barrier. Her hand sought after and found my hardness, squeezing me, grasping my hardness and simply holding on. I loved this part of the massage, when a woman really accepted what was happening, that I was there to pleasure her, to bring her pleasure, that she could simply lie there and receive, that she didn't have to think about positions or mechanics or love making or anything. This was all about her, all about her pleasure, all about her climax, all about her orgasm.
I then moved her legs further apart so that I had complete and total access to her womanhood. I got a bolster from below the table and hinted that she lift her hips and inserted it under her hips. This tilted her hips, allowing greater access to her womanhood, opening her, as if exposing her unashamedly to my gaze, to my fingers, to allow me complete and total access to her very core.
My fingers then teased up and down her slit, using her wetness as lubricant, wetting my fingers and allowing them to easily slip from outer lips to inner lips and even to her core, teasing her, hinting at slipping inside. But I didn't slip them inside yet. That was not to happen yet. I still had to tease her clitoral hood, all around her clit, not actually touching her clit, mind you, but all around. My ministrations were driving her wild. Her breathing was labored, her hips were straining for more contact, her lips were open and I watched as she wet them with her tongue. Only then did she open her eyes and look at me with desire and passion behind those eyes. Oh yes, she was aroused and wanted so badly to be brought to climax. But I was in control of this experience, I was her master, I was her lover for tonight, I was the one that was bringing her pleasure, I was the one that would decide when she could crest over the precipice and burst into a million points of light.
Her hand reached down to cup my sac and knead my balls as my fingers busied themselves around her clit, all around, over and over and over. She was going wild with desire and need. Only then did I slip a finger deep into her wet, warm tunnel. She moaned a low guttural moan of pleasure as her hips spasm-ed involuntarily. My invading finger slipped deeply into her warmth and began moving in and out of her slickness, mimicking what she wanted, what she needed. In and out my finger moved, only then to be joined by another and yet another. She jerked and moaned and said, "YES!" over and over. "YES, YES, YES! It feels so good! I feel so full!" My fingers twisted as they moved inside her warmth. Now was the time. She was so very aroused, so very turned on, so very near, so ready to climax, so ready to orgasm. Now it was time. As my fingers twisted and moved within her warm tunnel, I moved my thumb into position and rubbed it directly on her clit. That did it. She spasmed and humped her hips into the table, then into my hands, over and over and over. Her hand that was kneading my sac when back to my shaft and stroked it in time with her humping hips...and then I felt it. I felt her womanhood rhythmically tighten and clamp down on my invading fingers over and over again. She was climaxing. And she was stroking my shaft in long strokes to the timing of her orgasm that was clamping down on my fingers. Well, that did it for me as well. I began shooting my cum, pumping arc after arc into the air in time with her rhythmic clamping, my cum shooting so very high over her body, hitting the wall, then losing pressure and shooting onto her bare back, her bare buttocks, her bare leg. I was breathing hard, she was breathing hard, her body was still climaxing even after my orgasm had come and gone, so my fingers never stopped, they just continued, until finally she asked me to slow down, that her clit was becoming too sensitive. I slowed, bringing her back into reality slowly, no hurry, no rush, just taking my time, bring her down from her high, gauging from her breathing. When she was relaxed, I then used a warm washcloth to clean her off, taking my time to ensure I cleaned all of my cum from her body. She smiled at me as I was doing this, then looked at my shrunken member and motioned for me to come closer to her. I moved closer, and she took my little guy into her mouth to clean him off, smiling at me as commenting that I tasted good.
As I was gathering my clothes to leave the room, I wondered if I will see this woman again. But before I left, she motioned me back over to the table as she raised up on her elbows to whisper to me, "next time, be more aggressive, more rough. I like to feel the man is in control and I'm there to be used for his pleasure. My man would love it if I came home to him and told him how you used me for your own gratification."
Until next time...
Nice story Tweedcoat. Those are the massages we like! You should submit to literotica sometime. Check our stories out under the author Hindenberg
Here's part 2 to "Emily's Submission". The professor ties Emily up in an empty locker room. It will probably be the last bit I write for awhile as work has really gotten busy lately. Feel free to read part 1 to this story, and my other story, "Rebekah and Ashley". They can be found on this thread or on my author page on literotica. It's been so fun writing these for the Mrs. and the 30,000+ who have already read them. As always, 5-star ratings and comments on the stories are appreciated. Hope you enjoy!
Desktop version:
https://www.literotica.com/s/emilys-submission-ch-02
Mobile version: http://www.i.literotica.com/stories/showstory.php?id=1429350
Desktop version:
https://www.literotica.com/s/emilys-submission-ch-02
Mobile version: http://www.i.literotica.com/stories/showstory.php?id=1429350
TGIF from the other side of the world! At the Mrs' request, I wrote another domination story. This one is about a dominant husband coming home to his submissive wife, who is ready to be taken. She says it's her favorite so far. Give it a read, and if you like it, rate it five stars at the bottom of the second page. Comments are also appreciated. Have a fun weekend 
Desktop version: https://www.literotica.com/s/home-from-work-12
Mobile version: http://i.literotica.com/stories/showstory.php?id=1438879
Desktop version: https://www.literotica.com/s/home-from-work-12
Mobile version: http://i.literotica.com/stories/showstory.php?id=1438879
TEAMHINDENBERG wrote:
TGIF from the other side of the world! At the Mrs' request, I wrote another domination story. This one is about a dominant husband coming home to his submissive wife, who is ready to be taken. She says it's her favorite so far. Give it a read, and if you like it, rate it five stars at the bottom of the second page. Comments are also appreciated. Have a fun weekend
Desktop version: https://www.literotica.com/s/home-from-work-12
Mobile version: http://i.literotica.com/stories/showstory.php?id=1438879
Very sweet, tender, and romantic. I mean, it's not The Notebook but when the male protagonist showed up on her doorstep with roses and singing "their song" while softly weeping, well, I shed a tear or two as well. Nicely done. I hope the next chapter entails how they cuddled all night on the couch sipping White Zinfandel while binge watching Nora Ephron movies on Netflix.
Good story!
Just had my first story posted to Literotica! It's not quite a swinging story but not just a voyeur story either.
https://www.literotica.com/s/adjoining-rooms-1
I've written several stories but my wife thought this one in particular would be good to post online. Let me know what you think here or there!
https://www.literotica.com/s/adjoining-rooms-1
I've written several stories but my wife thought this one in particular would be good to post online. Let me know what you think here or there!
Love Literotica...except for all those wankers in Great Britain who are REALLY weird! 
I throughly enjoy writing erotica!! I have written several aver the years...both erotic/sexual poems/stories etc... absolutely love the build up and tension that it brings, and the conclusion/release that ultimately occurs. Perhaps I could post one a week if anyone is interested in reading....I love to share!
First one:
THE WAIT
Anticipation on my mind,
Oh god, I can hardly wait...
to reap the harvest of my find,
your tempting body I will take.
Thoughts of it fill my head,
Images of us together...
laying naked on a bed,
mortal taboo scene endeavor.
It only takes a daring touch,
to ignite the sinful dance...
our souls cry...craving it so much,
glass eyes reflect a glance.
As passion begins to prime,
lust magnets we've become...
luscious lips aligned with mine,
our hot mouths become one.
Our full hearts begin to pound,
urging blood to run like wine...
hands slowly explore around,
skin melting, fusing & combined
Swollen, you can take no more,
mounting me, wanting me inside.
Your hips move, I openly implore,
desperately, you bury me alive.
Throwing you off, now on all fours,
I thrust into you, your hips I pull.
Grabbing hair, you beg for more,
I pummel your heart with my pole.
You whimper as I take you down,
covering you, now you're mine...
you moan as I impale your mound.
synchronized together we rhyme.
Our sensual..bodies in motion,
eyes fixated, locked and stare,
crashing hard rock & wet ocean.
sweet & salty sex defused air.
Your hot furnace building steam,
victorious, you burst into ecstasy...
panting...quivering legs & knees,
your limp body, so alive & free.
Taking me into your eager mouth,
so warm, wet and inviting...
your red lips glide slowly south.
your velvet tongue so...inciting.
I can feel the end is near,
you stroke & suck me hard,
gaining tension, the time is here,
Letting go, I surrender my guard.
Laying in bed, energy quenched
Ideas run rampant in our mind
fantasizing...what happens next,
anticipating our next intimate time.
First one:
THE WAIT
Anticipation on my mind,
Oh god, I can hardly wait...
to reap the harvest of my find,
your tempting body I will take.
Thoughts of it fill my head,
Images of us together...
laying naked on a bed,
mortal taboo scene endeavor.
It only takes a daring touch,
to ignite the sinful dance...
our souls cry...craving it so much,
glass eyes reflect a glance.
As passion begins to prime,
lust magnets we've become...
luscious lips aligned with mine,
our hot mouths become one.
Our full hearts begin to pound,
urging blood to run like wine...
hands slowly explore around,
skin melting, fusing & combined
Swollen, you can take no more,
mounting me, wanting me inside.
Your hips move, I openly implore,
desperately, you bury me alive.
Throwing you off, now on all fours,
I thrust into you, your hips I pull.
Grabbing hair, you beg for more,
I pummel your heart with my pole.
You whimper as I take you down,
covering you, now you're mine...
you moan as I impale your mound.
synchronized together we rhyme.
Our sensual..bodies in motion,
eyes fixated, locked and stare,
crashing hard rock & wet ocean.
sweet & salty sex defused air.
Your hot furnace building steam,
victorious, you burst into ecstasy...
panting...quivering legs & knees,
your limp body, so alive & free.
Taking me into your eager mouth,
so warm, wet and inviting...
your red lips glide slowly south.
your velvet tongue so...inciting.
I can feel the end is near,
you stroke & suck me hard,
gaining tension, the time is here,
Letting go, I surrender my guard.
Laying in bed, energy quenched
Ideas run rampant in our mind
fantasizing...what happens next,
anticipating our next intimate time.