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I sit here, in my bed. Alone. I can’t sleep, so I watch a movie.

I’m not paying attention to the movie. I write. I write and I think.

What am I thinking about? I think about last night.

Last night…

I lay with you, on my couch. You lay on top of me. Your back is on my chest and your head is perfectly nestled between my breasts. My pillows as you call them.

Together we lay. Listening to classic rock. Listening to each other. I rub my hands over your chest. I play with the buttons on your shirt. Rub my hands over you. Teasing your nipples. Barely brushing them with my pinky fingers as I stroke your chest. My fingertips brush the seam where you shirt buttons. Fingers “accidentally” slip inside your shirt. Brushing skin. Heat arcs over from my fingers to your bare chest. I feel you before I touch you.

You raise your hand to my head and neck, stroking my hair. Your other hand is caressing my arm. Barely brushing the hairs on my arm, your aura dances, mixes with mine. They blend together and push into each other. With gentle force. So gentle, accidental, but with power, force.

As we rub and explore each other, we talk. Nothing sexual. Our bodies and our minds work independently. We explore each other. Aware of what we feel, but consciously not reacting, verbalizing it.

Energy forms words. The energy takes conscious shape. We explore the reaction our words and actions create when combined.

You tell me what not to do. You know I won’t listen. You hope I won’t listen. I don’t.

I take my cues from you. You know I want you. You take advantage of this knowledge. You put the actions you desire out. You give them to me to use as you see fit. You won’t ask me to touch you. You never asked. You warned me what might happen if I do this. You tell me if I play with your chest, you might react. You hope I continue so I can see the reaction. You fear, just a little, that I will heed your warning and stop. I do stop. You remind me that you did not tell me to stop, only made me aware of the consequences if I continued. I start to play again, with force. I do not “accidentally” brush your nipples, I search them out. Rub, flick, pinch.

You unbutton your shirt. You want to feel me on your skin. You want me to touch you. You don’t ask. You make it my choice. Your idea, my choice.

I take the next step. I take my own initiative. I try, see where I can go. I warn you of what I am going to do. I don’t tell you, I threaten to, take it up a degree. You challenge me. I take your thumb into my mouth. I suck on you. I caress your thumb with my mouth, my tongue. I know what you wish I was sucking on. I pay special attention to the tip of your thumb. Letting you know what I can do to other things. I take your thumb deep into my mouth. I can take more. You know this. There is only so much thumb though. I release the thumb and try for a longer finger, to show you I can take more. You know it, but I still feel like I have to prove it to you. Because of the angle we are at, I can not get your index finger. I let you go and try the other hand. I get it there.

I take your index finger all the way. All at once. You gasp. You knew I could, I would. You didn’t realize the force I would put into it. The depth of my energy. All of me. Concentrating on conveying, in one brief , miniscule moment, what I am capable of. All of my sex in that one flash moment. You know ataşehir escort bayan I have more to give you. More to show you, more to teach you.

You understand. You struggle within yourself. Desire. Desire you knew you possessed on some level breaks through. All you think of is taking me. Ravaging me. The thought is so brief it is nothing but a flash. You can not see, much less comprehend this, but the idea is planted.

We play some more, we talk some more. You challenge me again. You laugh as you mutter something under your breath. You want me to ask what you said. I play your game and do. You tell me you are safe as long as you are laying on top of me, on your back. You say this as you brush your hand along my inner thigh. Your mission, you express in word and deed. To see what lays between my thighs. The convergence that is me. That’s not what you say your mission is. That is what you do.

I know what you want. Again, I take your cue. You lead. Dominate. I submit to your will. I pull on you, you lean over, lean into it, and turn over. You are not on your back any more. You are no longer safe. You never were with me around. You didn’t want to be safe. You ask me what I would do to you if given the opportunity. You want to hear that I would take you. You give me the chance to take charge. Can I? I don’t know. You ask me to put into words what I only know as feeling and doing. I tell you. I know what you want to hear. Your energy feeds me the images to put into words. I feed my images to the words. You open up inside me a part of me I don’t use. You take away my control by giving me control. I take the control. I feed on this energy. It is not my energy. I don’t totally know how to use it. I call up memories of things that have not happened yet. Things that have only happened in dreams. Our dreams. I tell you how I would take you. I fill your aura with sights. You feel me on top of you from underneath you. I use my power to feed you feelings, images. You can almost feel me on top of you. Riding you and teasing you. You know I’m to submissive to cross that line, even in fantasy. Speak words, much less in action, unless you tell me to. You take over.

With only your word, you flip me, pin me, dominate me. You remind me of my place. You want me to turn over control. You need it. I let you have it. I let you take over the fantasy. Guide us. I can feel your words. I feel you tell me what you want to do. You know I feel you talking. My body reacts to you as if it was happening. I am wet. So hot and wet. I feel it running out of me. I want you to feel it I want you to know what your words have done. How you have touched me without laying a finger on me.

I take over the fantasy again. With my words I put you on your back and climb on. I take the control back. I put you inside me. You feel my wetness,. My heat. You feel me more than if I was truly on top of you. My words put what I would do to you into some kind of magick. We both feel the building climax, yet we do not touch there.

Your turn. You have seen inside me one of my deepest fantasies. You pull this out. You know what I want. What I need. I need the power of total submission. You tell me how you would take me. Do you want me to be afraid? No, I don’t think so. You want to pique my curiosity. You are pleased to confirm your suspicion that I want you to take me with force. I want to give into escort kadıköy you totally. Fully. You want to tie me up and take me. Not because it’s the only way you’ll get me. Not at all. Because that’s how I want it. I want to be released, in full rapture. I want you. You know this because you want me too. We can taste the desire in the air.

I pull you on top of me, facing me. We kiss. Explore, using tongues, lips, hands. We are totally lost in each other and the fantasy. It is an amazing fantasy, because it will happen. In more than dreams. You will take me like that. I won’t have to ask. It will happen.

Time for a diversion. I want to be sure it does happen. I’m going to guarantee it does. I get up and go to the kitchen, for some water. I know when I get back, I will be on top. You know this too. You are waiting for it. I’ll not disappoint you.

I mount you for real. You know how wet I am. You have completed your mission. You know what is not between my legs. You knew before you touched, found the wetness you brought from my core. From my fantasy, our fantasy. From that place in me that you touched only with your words. You are pleased.

You are pleased that I am on top. I feel it in your energy. I feel it between my legs. My whole aura blends with yours. I feel your aura push thru mine, thru me, INTO me. I feel it like I would feel you pushing into me. I grind against your jeans. I explode for you. I want you to touch me.. I want you to feel it. Know that it’s not the fantasy. I drip on your fingers. You push them. You slide inside me and call back that explosion, like an instant replay . You want to feel it again and again. You have to feel the explosion, the contractions, the pulling of those primal, carnal muscles. Feel me milk your fingers. So slender. How did it feel? Did you imagine me milking you? Harder, longer, thicker. How do you know I’ll feel? You like it. When you really feel it, you will remember this feeling. It will be amazing. The reality of it will stun you. You know this and you want it.

Your turn for control, we are sharing. You want to see me, all of me. See in me, see thru me. You are good. You make me take my dress off by telling me I shouldn’t. It is what you want. You are good.

You pull me down onto you. Feel our skin, our bodies, become one. Oh, the heat. It is so intense I can’t break free. I am going to burst into flames remembering it. It is real and familiar, though it is brand new. This is the first time that has ever happened, again. This is real now. The fantasy is over. Our control is slipping further and further away. It’s not gone, not yet. Not tonite. This needs to build, grow. So it can fall away. Now is not the time. We both know this. We are safe.

You ask about birth control. You care. It’s not only about you. We talk this over. You are planning now. Is it already there? You know what I mean. I tell you I’ve always got it covered. Your machismo kicks in. It’s your responsibility. Thank you! I’m more impressed that ever, but I’m ready too.

How do we stop this? I know how. Two ways. Neither is easy. Not difficult, but hard. You are so hard. Bigger than I thought, than I remembered. Wow. I can’t wait. I can still feel you inside me, stretching. It’s been too long. I need to feel that pushing, forcing me open. I will feel all of you. You will feel me giving way. Conforming just to you. Just the right bostancı escort fit. Every pore will feel the strokes, the heat and the wet friction. Rubbing and pulsing. All of it. All of you inside all of me. Inside and out. Deeper, harder, faster, more!

We have come to the line. Do we cross it? Dare we cross it? Not tonite. We can wait. It’s not time yet. I take my last piece of control. It’s your choice. I’m ready. I want it. I want you. I need it, need you. You don’t though. Not yet. But you will.

Could I have it now? Yes. Would you give it now? Hell yes. But it’s not the right time. We stop. Oh the torture of stopping.

Again we talk. Not about that. Not about what happened, but other sex that happened. We open up old wounds and compare scars. They match. Our lives match. They never crossed until now. Not even parallel courses. We just match. We know. We were there. Same places and different places. Same joys, same hurts, same love. Different reasons.

What tripped that trigger? I don’t know but again, we lay together. You need to feel me around you. Was I wrong when I stopped you? Did I miss something? Yes. There was something inside that I didn’t see. Did I do it, or was it you? I don’t know on this one. I don’t have the key to get in this door. You tease me. You push me to the edge again, but pull me back every time. I want to hurt you, tear you apart when you stop. The pain is unbearable. Each time, I get closer to the edge. Do you want me to beg? I do. My body pleads for release.

It is incredible. You push that last limit. I can’t breathe. If I breathe, I’ll scream. The white light bursts over me. I take you with me. Did you feel the ride? You won’t stop again. Can you stop? Up and up again. I never came down from the last time, just right back up. I’m screaming so loudly, no one can hear me. I’m falling, fading, riding you. Driving you as you push into me. I’ll let you take me, but I can’t. I breathe again. The oxygen burns. I love that burn. That burn of life. The dizziness is incredible. Oxygen deprivation or orgasm, who knows? Where’s my control? I’m too open. I mark you as mine. Do you know that? I want to stop, I can’t. DO IT AGAIN! If I do, I’ll be gone. I won’t be able to pull back. You want to stop too. We need the suspense, the build up. Pushed right to the edge.

When it’s time to make the leap over the edge, we’ll run over it screaming and racing. We won’t get fast enough. I’m ready to run. That edge is so close it’s almost out of reach. So close, no matter how far. When we find that place, it will be right where it should be. It won’t be a scheduled, planned jump, it will happen. We’ll stop again, I suspect. It will be harder next time. We will be closer. It’s your turn to stop it now. Your call. It always was. I did what you wanted. You need to deal with it and accept it. I could push, but I want all of you. If I push, I’ll leave something behind. I’ll miss something by rushing. You won’t bring it all with you. You won’t give it all over to me.

Am I ready? Not yet. Oh, yeah I’m hot and wet and screaming. I can’t give it over yet though. I won’t give it up. I need more before I’ll let go. You’ll be begging for more when I let it out, if I wait. Now, you’ll only get it. You want more. You deserve to get it all. I’ll give it all to you. You’ll be my dominate, when I’m ready. Can you handle that? Are you ready to turn it all over to me and dominate me the way I need it? Give me all of the control so I’ll submit. Do you really understand the power I’ll have when I submit fully? Are you ready to give it up?

When you are, we’ll go places we have never been…again. Welcome back. We belong here.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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