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Personal Web Log
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Foreplay... Mar 12th, 2004 3:42:04 am EST (Just a reedit- sorry if it made you pop in again) Foreplay.... My husband and I have recently started working together, but our shifts and days off rarely collide. There is an addiction we've developed during the course of our relationship, aside from the obvious. Just the simplicity of time together. It's not as though we spend every moment holding hands and running through a fucking meadow or anything. I'll be piddling on the computer, he'll be reading on the couch a few feet away, or playing video games, a little while will pass and we'll turn to look at eachother at the same time, sometimes give an "I love you, shuppy," sometimes just a smile or a look that foretells. But it is a comfort, none the less. Absence is felt with a sickness in my heart. The air doesn't smell right. Everything's too tight, too loose, nothing around me seems to fit. He feels the same. Sick? No, silly. Newlyweds. I'm sure it will pass, as telling any seasoned married couple about this gets chuckles and eye rolls in return. Head shakes that say, "No worries." So when the time comes when we are together, it is usually time for bed, which of course, suits us just fine. Even in our exhaustion, we'll peel our clothes off completely naked, smile at eachother and slip into bed, I roll on my side facing away from him and wait with baited breath for that first feeling of his body coming up behind mine, his arm wrapping around me, drawing me in tighter as though I can't come close enough. I feel his face nuzzle into my hair until each slowing breath rolls along the flesh of my neck and instinctively, weakly, I roll my ass back into the perfect fit of his hips. Sleepy moan rumbles in his throat, vibrates against me and I can feel my own breaths start to pick up just a little. His arm draped over me finds my hand slipped into his. Our fingers braid into eachother, he kisses me there on my neck once, pulls me in snug again and returns that soft rock of hips back into me. This makes my eyes grow heavy, takes my lip into an almost painful bite. I can feel him grow thicker. Sleep drifts slowly from my immediate need, and something much darker takes its place. He doesn't know yet. Or rather, he does, and wonders how far he can taunt me before I beg him. I guide his hand then, slow, almost unnoticable until it is draped over my breast and I send another soft press into that which is waking up for me, this touched with a little more need. Deep breath taken in releases as only the subtle-most groan. I take his fingers and puppet them slowly, to gather around my nipple and I take my hand over his and squeeze tight, once. My body shudders soft. Moan rolls warm along the back of my neck and his hips press in again, letting me feel how thick and long he's slowly becoming, how he's been craving this moment all day just as I have. But then he retracts. Relaxes his hand aside from occasional and slight teases against my nipple. My thighs squeeze together tight, I can feel the torment of my pussy as wet muscle clenches within. I wait for another touch, but it is not given, and I can almost feel the shape of his lips twist into a grin. It's just a whimper, what breaks from my mouth. The rest of me speaks volumes alone. I rock slowly against him now, gently working his cock into the cleft of my ass, let it stroke him with every roll back. He moans again, kisses the back of my neck, this time letting fangs graze against my skin and redden it. I let my head forward to offer him more, keep working my hips back, more inches to tease as time passes. Lips find his fingers, suckle soft, mirror what I've given him time and time before, make him remember what it is to fuck me. The sound he makes is resolved now, the way his moans almost growl into my ear, reclaims his hand to take back my breast, this time hard, almost painfully, flicking and taunting my firm nipple in ways that make me begin... My lips part...my nails bite into his arm, he knows it's coming and he's waiting with that grin to hear it. "What is it baby?" I can't breathe, I'm possessed. I cannot recall a moment before now that I'd ever wanted him more. He pulls in closer, taunts my breast punishedly until I nearly can't take it before finally laying claim to the other. "Tell me, love... Tell me or I'll stop." The groan let from my throat makes him take his cock down deeper, slip it between my legs, though not inside, let the length of it tease and play against my clit as I rock over it, soak it, and tempt it again and again to penetrate me. With heavy eyes pursed in the sweetest of torment, I grant him. "Please baby... please.... fuck me.... I beg you... fuck me..." "Mmmm... that's it.. that's what I wanted..." Tears pool in the darkness of my eyes, I'm in love with him, I'm obsessed. Yes, I'm sick over him, strung at every limb to dance for his whimsy. And I love it. Surrender. And he fucks me, talks to me during, humiliates me, reminds me what a whore I am, leaves a map of his touch, a little present the next day I'll find in the shower that will make me blush and long for our next time together. There is no addiction I have greater than our foreplay. (3) Comments Mood: crazy First Taste... Mar 9th, 2004 6:09:08 pm EST So I'd imagine no one comes to these sites for the usual day to day topics you find on Blogspot.com or Live Journal, blah blah. I like the idea of this. Scorpio, twenty-seven, female... yeah, there are a lot of things I don't divulge to my mainstream readers. So this will be the Shadow of my bloglife, the place I go to strip myself down naked and withhold nothing. From what I've read over this server, I seriously doubt I'll manage to shock anyone that frequents here, but then again, I just might. To say that I've always been a sexual person really doesn't say much. I think deep down we all are. Mine is worn a bit more on my sleeve than most. It smolders in the deep sets of brown/black eyes. The way I look at someone questions everything. Lips, skin, body frame, all physicality, and I'm imagining in my mind what it might feel like to lay with them, fuck, move, ravage, damage, taste. Strangely, it's not always a sexual curiosity, just a simple curiosity, but I do it. I catch myself doing it almost entirely with women, though my attraction to men is shamefully strong. I am two parts. Dominant, demonic, wicked, cruel. Subservient, demure, broken, weak. I'll let neither part of me free until I'm in the hands of someone I trust implicitly. The man that I am married has had the privilege of both. He is the only one in my life who has not dissolved that trust in me, and only kept me begging for more moments like the ones we share in our bed. I am his glad whore. I am his weeping shadow. I am his wife, his mistress, his friend, but all in all, entirely possessed. Whatever it is he wishes, I'll give. I'll sweat and tear myself muscle from muscle to watch his face contort into that of ecstasy, feel myself gush full of him, be messed, decorated, marked as only his. Welcome, to your first taste. (6) Comments Mood: amused |
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