You know the drill if you are under 18 go somewhere else
You can mail me if you like this -- tygrrgoddess@yahoo.co.uk
There are some things that are secret, secrets that everyone knows though. Confessions in erotic mind that they are not even aware of. It all lies in the senses, those brief moments when we are engaged in passion and only later when we are walking on the beach or idly watching the sunset with a cup of coffee do we revisit these discreet things that we only think we know.
You close your eyes and breathe in that sweet smell of sweat between the breasts, it's a special perfume that, promising nipples to follow. You inhale, breathing in the days salt, sweetly mixed with your perfume, you taste. Salt, chemicals. Soon the hard upraised bumps round nipples... you feel - that on your tongue, the pushing nub to nip. Your ears pick up your breathing and hiss of your sweet mouth and a slight voice telling of more. Think of this, as you sip your coffee, hot sliding down.
Your mind is on a roll now. The taste that lives on the neck and ear, the feel of your mouth on yours. The wet sliding of taste buds against each other, teeth, tongue, teeth. Eyelashes briefly fluttering against your cheek. So many tastes, cigar mouth, champagne that's like lemons, whiskey. Desperate kisses, biting your lips, slow ones that liquefy the thighs to open. All the while the sighs and mewls that rise above us into the atmosphere. Wet mouth sounds, because as you are drowning in kisses your hands are seeking to unbutton those buttons and the slide into lace to feel the desire against your fingertips. You know what this feels like, to have nipple tweaked, a breast brushed, your womb contracts and your clit fills and waits to be claimed.
Sit back and remember the feel of me behind you, unclasping your bra with my breath quikceing behind you. The sudden release of breasts swinging to freedom quickly cupped and beautifully weighed in my palms. I can feel this now. And knowing all the more that follows.
Will there be the sound of a belt unbuckled, or the sharp zipper noise? When you remember it can be any of these that your ears mind strains to recall. The hard feeling of jeans against your palm as you seek to find your center, but instead knuckles roughed against the inside of your jeans, silk, then soft oh so soft the hair that leads to wetness, aroma of desire. A grunt moan from you, found and sliding. Heat on your hands and that feel of the inside of you, ridges, bumps, cervix.
The hard bite on the shoulder as your mouth is breathing the neck as hands find places that swim in nectar. Remembering the ache of thighs that have been on you, mounting your dildo seeing the looks on our faces in mirrors well put, seemingly agonized expressions of lust and pleasure. The feel of a toy inside, hard cold at first then the melt as your breasts move to an ancient rhythm above. Taste of sweat on the brow as you lean over me to claim my mouth, nipples brushing nipples.
When I finally find you with my mouth, my taste buds are filled with your familiar oyster salt. The hard nub of clit nudging the soft tip of tongue. The smell of your sex filling my mind. I feel the tug of your hands in my hair and hear your sighs and sudden breath intake as my fingers slide into your tightness. So much wetness. And when you beg me to let you have my clit in your mouth the weight of your body and my thighs wide and waiting as your heaven descends upon my lips and your mouth claims me. My womb aches in memory.
There is so much we walk around with. Each being we see has the memory bank of the sensations of ecstasy... so much to remember so much to write down. I will build on this. Words in sighs...