Tuesday, November 22, 2005

painted

We lost layers, you and I, first you then me, as I sat straddled on top of you. I forgot that we had been chatting casually. I forgot to reopen my eyes, until you asked me if I was getting wet in my panties, still teasing your bare cock upwards so it rubbed against me, me still pushing back onto you. And I managed to open my eyes a crack and say mmhmm.

Soon after the panties had to come off, damp, so that final layer was lost too, though my bright pink sweater remained. And I wouldn’t remember it until quite a while later, when it started to cling to me and trap the sweat and heat springing from my body that held your cock inside, and I had to throw it off.

You had placed your hands on to that sweater before our layers were lost, like I had placed my hands on your shirt and then under it, so I could feel the sexy down on your stomach. And I had wanted to feel further down, but I hadn’t, not just yet I had told myself. You had placed your hands on my sweater where my breasts were and you had tugged and grabbed, and jerked and controlled my bra, so my nipples were flicked up and down like switches. I must have looked almost in collapse from this exquisite torture, who can explain that kind of mmphh satisfaction from that kind of squeeze and touch, I had looked almost in pain, groaning, and you had asked me if I was ok and I had smiled and taken your hands in each one of my hands, and said lighter than I felt mm yes, very much so.

You had asked me if I was ok even before that, even before we had walked into your bedroom. Yes, I had said, I’m just tired. I was tired, tired from a week of incessant work with little sleep, tired and scooped out, feeling like I had come close to some edge again and pulled back, tired but trying to stay in the moment. Just happy to be there, still, not able to think about much more. Tiredness wouldn’t stop me, couldn’t, and I wouldn’t watch and let the gulf between me and my life needlessly widen again. So I didn’t lie by your side, like I asked to, for long. It wasn’t long before I climbed on top of you in bed.

But when my panties came off with your help, pushing myself up onto my arms, my legs a pyramid for you to slide them down, I paused like that. I delayed a little bit before I sunk back onto you. Though not much, because I can’t ever wait much for you, not when I am like that. But I stopped to remember how it would feel, for cock to meet cunt, yours and mine. And when I settled down finally we sighed, louder than the sigh when I had first sat on top of you, and it was in fact better than I remembered. My moist lips propped slightly open and on top of stiff you.

Of course I had to take your cock in slowly very soon after that. I took you in clumsily, haunching myself up on my ankles and then back down, dying at the feeling of that first stretch. You asked me if I had missed this and I said yes, and how could I not, sitting on your cock, filled up, and after such a long time too.

After that I started to ride you, first working forwards, then leaning backwards on to your legs so my head could loll back, my hair falling away from my face. You told me I was getting good at this I remember and I laughed because I was tired and wanted to do better. And I went on and forgot myself and grasped onto your legs so hard it hurt you, and then I righted myself back up and you guided me straight up and down your cock. Your cock just kept growing, I could feel it, and your face began to wash with lust. I was trying to move up as close to the very tip of your cock as I could before pushing back down, but I was impatient, and then you guided my hand down to my cunt, and pushed it inside to join where your cock was, and I remember you were telling me the whole time that this is what I would do, like this, this is how I would ride, if I wanted to take and use you for my pleasure. Which I did.

You slid my fingers in and all there was was my cunt and your cock, and what I wonder at always is how you render my cunt the way you do, because I have not learned yet how to leave myself like that. When I push my fingers in myself at home in my bed, I am never like that, I am wet, but never like that. With you right then, my fingers slid in, and I was open and gliding and soaked, and your cock was this slippery ridged skin on one side, coated from being inside me, and the source of the wetness, my cunt’s folds, were melting onto the other side.

Later there would be time for us to flip so you stayed inside me, and I would lie where you had lain, and we would be washed in each other’s sweat. And there would be time for a wet deep orgasm on hands and knees, time for a hard straight fuck like you already knew I wanted, time to see ourselves in mirrors, time to look away and just take, time to manoeuvre my slow mind and body so you remained squeezed between my legs, and I would just lie there and think of how lazy I could be because this seemed in that moment like the best kind of fuck of all, to lie still and flat on my stomach and just cum from your motion. And when you came later like that inside me, there would be time to feel you dripping out, to feel you kiss soft at my shaking back all over in the immediate wake of your release. And my hand would be shimmied backwards touching at your cock again the whole time as it moved in and out of me, you would put my hand there too, and even after you stopped moving, I would stroke slowly at your cum-covered base and I would feel like I wanted to purr, dazed and pleased.

But in that moment, before all that, it was just my fingers between your cock and my cunt, it dizzied me, till I couldn’t tell what was what, just these differing grains of skin, soaking up my liquid at different rates, the pleasure from the touch of my finger and your cock merging. And when I thought of it later, when I think of it now, I feel like I want to paint it, paint those different textures in dripping red and pink on a white canvas, paint a picture that could describe how this tiny moment felt, though I never could, just like I can’t describe it in words now. In that moment, all I could mumble with my head tilted back from you was that feels so good and you said only yes..I know, I know it does

3 comments:

Challenging M said...

Wow, learn, you may feel your words don't do it adequately, but the picture you paint with them is colourful, sharp and very seductive - I need some relief - quickly ;)

I've been going through your archives, trying to catch up, and its wonderful getting to know you through your words.

Now, where's that thing that 'the Girl' made me buy ;)

Oh, and just before I rush off, I promise my next post on my blog will be how my warm fuzziness got me into trouble for the first time (its a skill I'm particularly proud of :))

FH xxx

expei said...

you can paint anytime like this - now i have to remove some layers.

anna said...

so lovely learn!