Happy Canada Day

Celebrating Canada's Birthday in my birthday suit!

the delicate state of cock worship

Do you have visions of me? On my knees? Crawling across the floor to your cock?

Of warm wet lips, gently stroking and caressing you?

A tongue sliding up and down the length of your rigid shaft?

Your legs quiver and ache but you don't move for fear that the stroking tongue will stop.

Looking down, you see her eyes are closed and you know that she is in this moment that she is worshipping your cock that every stroke of her wicked mouth, with every flick of her tongue.

You know it pleases her as much as it does you.

You feel your breath quicken.

You don't know if you'll even be able to take another breath.

The tension builds as her mouth becomes more insistant, more demanding.

And when you manage to open your eyes, to orient yourself.......you see her staring up at you; her mouth is filled with you and her dark chocolate eyes, asking you if you are pleased with her?

Again you feel you can't breathe.

Her hand moves in time with her mouth.

The rhythm of the stroke, harder and more insistent and you struggle to hold off because you want more. You're positively greedy for more.

And she continues.

Sliding a wet and eager tongue along the length of your cock.....teasing the head with the tip of her tongue.

Slowly

Licking

Then long lapping strokes

Hot and wet

Her hands rise to caress skin.

Your cock is wet from her mouth and she strokes you with her hand.....firm but gentle......wanting to prolong the agony of the exquisite sensations.

You look down. See her on her knees. You see her sweet round ass, sticking out as she leans into your cock and begins to lick delicate circles around your balls while her hands run over your skin.

Tongue and mouth caressing your cock.

You feel her warm breath on you.

You want to watch but can't open your eyes, but you don't.

Knowing it's taking every ounce of your control to stand and not cum too hard, too fast.

I wonder

Can you still taste me?
Hot, wet, sweet on your lips, fingers and tongue?

Can you still smell me?
My hair, my skin, my cunt....where our bodies met and exchanged scents and flavours?

Can you still feel me?
Molten and damp, tightly gripping your cock, squeezing and stroking your head and shaft with my cunt?

Can you still see me?
On my knees, staring at you with blind submission and desire as my mouth caresses your cock in a pure state of worship?

Can you?

swollen and ripe

I have a bruise.

A mark.

The tender tissue is the size and color of the outer skin of an over-ripe plum.

It is swollen but has no ache.

How did I get this?

When I crawled naked into your bed, pressing my cool skin to your warm sleeping form?

When you slapped the inside and outside of my quivering thighs and aching cunt? Teasing me and making me beg to be fucked?

When you firmly gripped my thighs as you positioned me? On my side, top leg bent at the knee and raised, so that my ass was ready and open...waiting for your cock?

All the memories flood back to me as I relive your touch.

As I remember the mark.

As I feel the creation of the bruise.

something to share

Thank you J,
you are right, it is beautiful....
you open my eyes to the sensual and erotic
and I am overwhelmed


You have the lovers,
they are nameless, their histories only for each other,
and you have the room, the bed, and the windows.
Pretend it is a ritual.
Unfurl the bed, bury the lovers, blacken the windows,
let them live in that house for a generation or two.
No one dares disturb them.
Visitors in the corridor tip-toe past the long closed door,
they listen for sounds, for a moan, for a song:
nothing is heard, not even breathing.
You know they are not dead,
you can feel the presence of their intense love.
Your children grow up, they leave you,
they have become soldiers and riders.
Your mate dies after a life of service.
Who knows you? Who remembers you?
But in your house a ritual is in progress:
It is not finished: it needs more people.
One day the door is opened to the lover's chamber.
The room has become a dense garden,
full of colours, smells, sounds you have never known.
The bed is smooth as a wafer of sunlight,
in the midst of the garden it stands alone.
In the bed the lovers, slowly and deliberately and silently,
perform the act of love.
Their eyes are closed,
as tightly as if heavy coins of flesh lay on them.
Their lips are bruised with new and old bruises.
Her hair and his beard are hopelessly tangled.
When he puts his mouth against her shoulder
she is uncertain whether her shoulder
has given or received the kiss.
All her flesh is like a mouth.
He carries his fingers along her waist
and feels his own waist caressed.
She holds him closer and his own arms tighten around her.
She kisses the hand besider her mouth.
It is his hand or her hand, it hardly matters,
there are so many more kisses.
You stand beside the bed, weeping with happiness,
you carefully peel away the sheets
from the slow-moving bodies.
Your eyes filled with tears, you barely make out the lovers,
As you undress you sing out, and your voice is magnificent
because now you believe it is the first human voice
heard in that room.
The garments you let fall grow into vines.
You climb into bed and recover the flesh.
You close your eyes and allow them to be sewn shut.
You create an embrace and fall into it.
There is only one moment of pain or doubt
as you wonder how many multitudes are lying beside your body,
but a mouth kisses and a hand soothes the moment away.

Leonard Cohen

me

I am dirty
raw
base

I can be vulgar
filthy
indecent

I am nasty
very nasty
moving beyond pornographic

I own my sex
my pleasure

in my own demandingly submissive way
I beg you for the sweet release my writhing orgasm brings
and
the faintly bitter taste of your hot cum on my tongue and in my throat

insatiable
hungry
greedy for your cock

I am all this
and more

gladly

Fuck

I want to feel my flesh burn where your hands touch my skin

Searing me with the heat of violent lust

Passion fuelled by time

My cunt aches

Now

As the memory of your cock torments and teases me

I want your tongue....tracing it's lines on my skin.....cutting my flesh....as I arch my back to meet your mouth

I am hungry

I have an insatiable need

Desire is too weak to describe the heat and lust burning between my thighs

The thought of your face

Part fury, part lust, part animal....raw and powerful......drawing into the familiar stare as you penetrate me roughly....making me gasp....thrusting into my cunt and my ass....as if they were yours alone to use

As always, I submit to you.....to your will, your pleasure

I allow you to take me and use me.....your pleasure is mine

How long has it been? Since you fucked me? Raw and hard? Just fucked me?

Although tomorrow looms on this evening's shadows

My body screams to me....telling me your touch is years away

my first

my first thought was
no wonder men love this

as my tongue gently probed her delicate folds of skin

inhaling her scent
much stronger than my own

my wet tongue eagerly probing her hot flesh

I am fascinated by the multitude of folds
contained within her lips

my tongue alternately laps in long slow strokes
and slides between folds

I find her clit
a tiny bead
and flick it gently with tip of my tongue

I feel it should be simple
to do this
to eat pussy
afterall, I know what I like
I know what gets me off
and yet this is so different

I set thoughts aside
my tongue moves to the sounds of her breathing

slow purposeful
faster probing
insistent

I slowly slip my index finger into her
to stroke her aroused g-spot
firmly
pressing, moving
I stroke
and with my free hand
I use my fingers to stretch the skin around her clit
allowing better access for my curious tongue

she begins to writhe
she calls my name
I smile
but find I can't stop

I increase the tempo of my stroke
and the coordinating flick of my tongue

and very quickly
I realize
for the first time in my life
I've made a woman cum

and I think again
no wonder men love this

and wonder when my lover will return to me
to play with the both of us
to allow me to show him my new trick

missing your touch

my cunt is wet
aching
a bullet delicately attacks my clit
gentle writhing
thoughts of your naked skin
pressing against me
rough hands on smooth thighs
your lips on my lips
probing
penetrating
exploring sensual textures

I need you
now
I want more than my mind
delivers
I want the touch of your skin
the smell of you
I long for your confident insistant penetration
your pulsing cock
passing my lips

I am ready
to move and writhe to the rhythm of your thrust
my cunt is wet at the thought of you
and this mere toy struggles to temporarily satisfy my lust for you

you can't imagine

i don't think
you could have said
anything
more perfect
to me

even if it had been
scripted
crafted
by writers
whose job it is
to say the perfect
things

when you asked
me to say something
anything
and you said
I
hear
YOU

necessary catharsis

j

today i've lived a moment inside my head
over and over in my head until I feel I can't breathe
until i don't want to breathe

my pants are off
my underpants are gone
somewhere

there is a fist entangled in my hair
my face is pressed into the blanket
i think i breathe
i don't know

my one arm is wrenched behind my back
clenched by another fist
i am immobilized by his weight
i try
i can't go
move
and i try not to feel as he penetrates me
as he thrusts
and my objection is muffled by sheets and bedding

and he leans down
and i smell the alcohol on his breath
and i feel his clammy skin
and he whispers in my ear
can you even kiss right, bitch?

and i see this today
all day
in my mind
in shadows
in sunlight
in the faces of other people
over and over and over
until i think it reflects in my own eyes

i realize that i haven't told a soul about this part
until this moment

and i'm sorry that it has to be you
but i feel like i don't know who else

g