I Need Sex
And affection, and caresses, and kisses with soft, wet, hot lips, and....
16 May 12:15 am
Kiss me. Kiss me often, kiss me hard, kiss
me soft, kiss me in all sorts of places.
Hold me. Hold me gently, hold me tight, hold
me up, hold me down. Get a grip on me and don't let go.
Caress my hair, pull it hard, scrunch it up behind
my neck, tangle your fingers into it.
Let me get my hands on you, to touch your face as
I kiss you, to stroke your back, to knead your ass, to grip you and hold
you and tease you.
Let me get my mouth on you, feel my tongue and my
lips, anywhere, everywhere, let me worship your tongue with mine, let me
wrestle you to the floor with only my mouth.
Crush me, lift me, let me take you. Chain
me, submit, reveal, conceal. Laugh and cry, let me give, make me
take.
Get wild with me. Spontaneously. Let
me accost you in an alley. Pull over on the side of the road and
let's just do it.
The fantasies are swimming about me day and night,
invading every minute. The image, the imagined feeling of taking
a precious face into my two hands and just kissing the hell out of that
delightful mouth, it makes me gasp at stop lights and pull my hands out
of the dishwater. Memories of other moments of contact float up to
the surface, like when he at a recent party kissed me, so deliciously,
then hugged me before he left. Somehow he had gotten behind me to
hold me again, and the heated hardness nearly burned my clothes right through
to my skin. My knees were all weak, but I was determined to stay,
and not leave with him. I stayed. Oh but it was good.
Like when he took me to his old haunts when we were
on a business trip to DC. We danced like crazy, and the music slowed,
and I kept him on the floor with me. One kiss, and we had a problem.
Oh, what a night that came to be.
Like when we let her into the front seat, and he
blurted out what I wanted, and she leaned back and I kissed her pretty
little mouth. And she told me she wanted me, but it was a bad time
of the month. And I smiled understandingly, but didn't believe her.
Like when he emerged from his car, and swept me
away to a roomful of balloons. He left me gasping like nobody before
him.
Like meeting a dark and gorgeous stranger on a Greyhound
bus, fascinated with his origin, his stories, his twinkly eyes. Night
after night of passion and hot soapy showers and talk and passion again,
over and over.
More and more and more and more. But the fantasies
win out by numbers over the memories.
Hot kisses and intense fondling on a carpeted floor,
completely by surprise. Comfy cuddling on a chilly night. First
kisses at the abandonment of reason. Taking by force. Being
taken by force. Neither of course really by force if the attraction
is so strong. Letting my oral fixation run the agenda.
Hard. Hungry. Needful longing.
If I have ever been attracted to you, and you probably know if I have,
you can bet you are in my head now. Yes, you. Even if it's
old and dead and so you thought buried, I still feel it, and it's as hot
as it ever was. Even if we are only friends, even if we have agreements,
in my mind and heart I take you. Oh, yes, I take you.
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