Desire me…

Do you desire me? Show me; tear at my clothes and fuck me like the bitch I am.

I don’t know if she meant what she said but I wanted to.

I moved to her and stared into dark eyes; they followed my hand to one of her buttons as I slowly separated the material. Slipping both hands into the gap I pulled her into me and kept pulling.

The sound of buttons tearing from fabric and hitting the tile echoed as we kissed deeply, and in her passion, bit down on my lip until we tasted blood. She stepped back staring.

A navy bra exposed; I grabbed at fabric again to free a dark nipple; I sucked on it hard. She gasped as her hands pulled at my hair. I bit down, and she cried out. Her fingers twisted in my hair and pulled me away to expose my neck. She snarled and released her grip — her eyes were wild.

More

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The desire of taking or being taken…

Black leather garters overlay a laced corset and cling to smooth curves that hold up black stockings at the thigh; contoured legs are accented by the strap at the top of her heels. She isn’t wearing panties and her white skin is a dramatic contrast to the leather and silk. She is shaven and her slit is centred between the two front straps of the garter as a result of one leg in front of the other.

The opposite page is of a woman in full leather — a plain and heavy corset overlaying a patent leather catsuit is the centre of the photograph. Leather gloves hold both a flogger and leather whip with the tails, the thong and fall tangled in front of her. The light shines off the leather creating a contrast of black and white.

Two photographs found in a photoworks collection I recently found tucked away in a box.

****

“I think it’s just because you like leather.”

“That may be true, but I also see them as the two sides of the desire coin.”

“How so?”, Simone asked as she motioned to look at the book of photographs again.

“Well, I think we have a desire for taking or being taken and the two photos dramatically represent each of those desires. Of course, they are the extremes, and like everything, it’s a spectrum but we all desire it.

Simone was intently flipping through the book and smiled as she turned it to show me a man and a woman fucking. “Look Honey, they were fucking back in the 1800s.”

Laughing, I said, “Yes, I’ve heard we’ve been fucking for a very long time.”

Simone flipped through the photoworks collection a little longer and then rested the book on her lap and looked at me with sparkling eyes.

“So which do you desire; to take or be taken?”

 I met her gaze and simply said, “Both, like I said.”

“Well, now I want to go shopping, and depending on what we find, tonight we’ll have to explore which desire it really is.”

Placing the book on the table, Simone stood knowing.

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Image and inspiration by Gunter Blum

Fucking is so much more…

I’ve discovered short erotic poetic writing on Instagram — sometimes there are photographs and sometimes just words fill the screen. The words are always revealing, and as a voyeur, I follow and passively observe.

The words speak of desire and raw sexuality — sometimes softened photographs reveal tattoos and cleavage but nothing ever as raw as the words. Words of obsession, vulnerability, and ravaged skin fill the screen; a surrender to everything. Bold with conviction, the words speak of the unabashed proclivity for the flesh.

The words are well written — the reason I know this, is after I put the phone down, I always have a desire to fuck; sometimes it’s the author I want to taste but other times it’s the person beside me I want to pinch my harden nipples and suck on my clit. Sometimes I carry the words with me for days and when I do fuck Winston, I bite and scratch with desire and wanting — demanding to be satisfied.

The other day someone said, “Fucking is fucking” but when I look at my phone, I think to myself, “Fucking is so much more.”

I don’t even bother to explain.

S

Sand, surf and sex

I hadn’t noticed the discrete amateur photoshoot happening under the shade of a tree until Simone had pointed it out. I’d been transfixed on the waves, the hot sun and Simone’s gentle caresses on my arm. It took me a moment but once I saw her posing for the camera, I couldn’t look away. 

If she moves her hand away, would it reveal a perfectly trimmed pussy with lips slightly open, wet, and waiting for my cock? Shifting her other hand, and letting her arm fall to the side, would it show nipples that are erect and hard? A hand intertwined in her raven hair; pulling her head back exposing her neck to hungry kisses — would her inviting smile surrender to the moans of desire as her green eyes widen with my cock deep inside her?

We both stared until the man with the camera made her laugh one last time and then handed her a brightly coloured sarong. Once covered, she gathered up random articles on the sand and put them in a beach bag — he made her laugh once more and with bag and camera in hand, they made their way down the beach as if they were one. 

I settled back into the waves and the sun, and Simone resumed her gentle caresses — I soon lay back onto the warm sand and closed my eyes. I heard Simone do the same and she shifted into me to get comfortable. We listened to the surf until her whisper broke the trance.

“You wanted to fuck her, didn’t you? I don’t hold it against you; part of me wanted to fuck her too”

I knew she wasn’t looking for a response and had more to say so I made a sound to acknowledge I was listening, rather than acknowledge I wanting to fuck the woman with the raven hair.

“You would be very disappointed based on what I saw. Those breasts of hers aren’t real, and even if they are, they aren’t as wonderful as mine which you know all too well are very real. That lovely pussy you saw is not nearly as wet as you image, and if you were to fuck her my love, she wouldn’t squirt over that cock of yours the way I do. And one last thought to consider.”

We both waited.

“When her boyfriend fucks her, she is quiet. Oh, she probably offers a moan or two but she’s by no means is a screamer — and I know how much you like me to scream your name as I take that cock of yours. Yes, you would definitely be disappointed.”

She fell silent, sat up and announced we should go swimming and then slapped me on the stomach. As I was shocked back into the bright sun she smiled and motioned me to follow her into the surf.

As I got to my feet all I could say to myself was,“What an ass. I can’t wait to listen to her scream my name”

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