"You Know This Lover"
by
You drive through the night, the only sound your tires
singing on wet black pavement and the rhythm of your own heart.
You watch your small hands griping the steering wheel so tightly
your knuckles are white with anticipation. You are amazed, why
should you feel this tension? You have done this many times. This
is no new experience, you know this lover. This is no single
night's lust with a stranger. This is more than your lover you
meet this is your love. But then you think.
"Can I ever know this man?"
"Will I ever understand the complex folds of his erotic mind?"
"Learn to ride with command the wheel of his passion?"
You think not. He leaves you breathless.
Always a step ahead yet never leaving you wanting, drawing you
deeper into yourself.
There have been times when you felt certain mastery. Felt
that at long last you had reached a point of comfortable
predictability. Even thought a trifle smugly of the
accomplishment. Then in a gleam of his carnal eye your world
reeled in a flurry of pleasure that you had not even dreamed
existed.
Still you know this lover, you know to trust this lover, He
would never lead you to harm, never betray your faith in any way.
You may not be certain which of earthly road he will travel, what
winding amorous path he may embrace. But you know that you will
follow without hesitation, as your desire's perfection is his
completion.
A fleeting scent of your perfume touches your nostrils.
Reminding you of your preparation for this night. From the moment
your phone rang at noon you have been preparing. Choosing the
clothes, scents, and colors for your encounter. So simple his
call, laden with promise. No hello, Nor even a simple goodbye.
None of the usual endearments you have become accustomed to. You
answer the phone, your mind racing on the million different paths
the responsibilities of your day demand. You hear his voice, a
room number, motel then the hollow click of the receiver. Nothing
more, not waiting for your reply, he does not require your
assurance, he knows you will come.
You know this lover, but not as he knows you.
A slightly nervous laugh escapes you. For the first time you
understand that he is already making love to you. He has been
doing so since noon. The thought fills you with love and
admiration. Heat rises in your loins as you press your narrow
foot down farther on the accelerator. The road has become your
antagonist, the dark rival that stands between you and your
craving, seeming to grow as you devour each mile. The drive only
an hour from the city feeling like a lifetime quest for rapture.
You wonder why so far? Then again realize the extent of his
devising. He knew! He knew you would go from nervous anticipation
to barley controllable lust in this time. He is in the car with
you, making love to you even now. Stoking your fire, fanning you
to the point of incineration, without even touching your body.
The wetness between your eager thigh's attest to his success. The
scent of your own musk begins to mingle with the scents you
applied for him. You know he will not mind. It is your scent he
stalks, this master hunter. Your instincts he studies. Your
womanly need his prey. Your heated flesh he will consume. The
dark countryside rushes past you. Open fields reflect the moons
glow from rain dampened crops. The silhouettes of Oak and Pine
stand sentry over you, guarding this prey as they have guarded
prey for centuries. But this prey seeks the hunter.
You feel
your heart quicken, pulsing in your throat. The harsh glare of
neon cuts the tranquility of the countryside. So harsh and out of
place yet so welcome. You and your lover have passed this small
motel many times, you never paid it much attention. It seems he
must have, he is always thinking this love of yours. As you pull
into the gravel drive you see his car with satisfaction, even
love, you thank this mindless machine for carrying him safely.
Parking before the aging room more desirable to you now than a
suite in the finest hotel in Paris, your senses are enchanted
with the silence, the smells of the country. Newly mowed hay,
pine a thousand sweet textures of scent waltz with your desire.
They play in the deepest folds of your mind. In this place of
solitude you have no responsibility, no job, no stress. You are
simply a creature of nature doing natures bidding. You enter the
room locking the door behind you to shut the world out and your
passion in.
You say no words of greeting, nor does he. You do not
even look for him in the dim light. You have no need, You know it
is your lover, his sweet aroma fills you. Slowly he moves
behind you licking the back of your neck while his hands move
under your blouse massaging your soft flat belly before moving
upward toward your breasts. Closing your eyes you bend your head
forward your breath becoming deep and slow as your nipples harden
beneath his touch, the palms of your hands become moist and warm
with anticipation. Gently he removes your blouse kissing,
nibbling, and licking each new bit of skin he exposes. Sucking
your breasts into his mouth sometimes soft and moist,
occasionally demanding, flicking your now fully erect nipples.
Sliding his accomplished lingua between your cleavage he moves
downward leaving a trail of pending elation on your skin,
stopping only for a moment to lick your navel as his hands slide
up the back of your smooth bare legs and begin massaging your
buttocks. He chews on your pelvic mound with hunger and your
tight skirt becomes wet with his saliva and the readiness flowing
from your need to be his feast. You live in a body solicitous
for his touch, his tongue, and his entry. Your eagerness will not
rush his banquet, you know you will have to wait. You know this
lover, you know he has no desire to quickly take you, drain his
passion at the expense of yours and go. This lover wants to play
your body, explore your deepest desires at times gently and
tenderly teasing you to joy. At other times demanding and
forceful making you to submit to the primal passions that dwell
beneath the surface of socialized conduct. He runs his tongue
along the cleavage of your toes, then removes your pumps, licking
your feet sucking on each toe one at a time then very slowly
rises up to unzip your skirt sliding it deliberately over your
hips while kissing the front of your dampened panties. Sucking
your elixir through the silk, before pulling them down your
shuddering legs with his teeth.
He stands removing his touch to
drink the sight of your naked body with eyes that thirst. He is
still fully clothed and you stand unconcealed before him feeling
vulnerable and exposed. His arms at last enfold you pulling your
body weak with need to him. His mouth feels hot on yours his
breath sweet, deeply kissing his prey. This hunt is over, this
prey is his, your body has once again betrayed you, led you to
his side, forced you to eagerly cast your flesh to his whim. You
melt into his hard chest, rejoicing in the roughness of his
clothing and the delicacy of your nudity. He lays you face down
on the bed and you hear him remove his clothes. You wish to turn
and look, to see the muscles move beneath the hair of his chest,
to pay visual homage to his hardness and envision it penetrating
your anxious femininity. Still you resist the temptation to gaze
at his masculine splendor. You know this lover you know his moods
and tonight he doesn't want you to think, only to feel. To flow
with the sensations he will give you. The fate of your passion is
in his expert hands not your own. So you lay face down in scarce
contained anticipation and wait. You feel a shock of warmth as
he pours heated cherry scented oil on your bare buttocks letting
it run between your rear cleavage seeking your depths. His warm
hand explores you. Slowly slipping an oil slick finger into your
rear passage, letting you savor the intrusion, stroking you long
and leisurely allowing you to feel each slow caress. You can
think of nothing else save his finger violating your most private
space. He removes his finger and his tongue now moves to the
cleavage of your seat moving deeper with each pass until he
begins licking the sensitive opening. Delving deep inside,
soothing you with his heat while massaging your woman's pearl
with knowing hands, slick with sweet scented oil. Your breath
enters in short deep gasps. You moan lost in a world only he
knows how to create. Without shame you reach back with both hands
spreading the cheeks of your behind. Pressing toward the giver of
sensations that lavishes lingual veneration on this potent bundle
of nerve endings. Your delectation is enhanced because you know
that not only is your love willing to delight you in this way. He
does so with a hunger born of appreciation for each texture,
scent and reaction of your existence. Your skin burns with the
fever of arousal, though you do not notice it the blush of
passion has formed patterns between your breasts. A glistening
sheen of sweat forms on your naked back as your world becomes
more and more focused. There are no problems to solve no bills
that need paying. At this moment there is nothing but the sheer
joy of sensation and adoration for the man that now devours the
most private portion of your body with untamed abandon. You feel
your need rise toward the moment of completion. He feels it too
and holds you there. His tongue and hands expertly keeping you on
the verge but not yet willing to let you fall into the well of
release.
Moments feel like hours as your body swirls in the winds
of sensuality. You moan in yearning as he removes his touch. Your
breath shallow, waiting, knowing not to look, your ears seek his
intent, his quiet movements, the sound of a plastic chest opens
then shuts, a rustling of paper, your anticipation mounts. His
hand in your hair gently pulls back your head, a chill on your
cheek. You quiver as now his intention is revealed. He offers a
cherry Popsicle to your lips. You suck it deep into your mouth as
if it were he, it soothes a throat parched from the passing of
heated breath. He strokes your soft mouth with long cold strokes,
allowing you time to contemplate your fate. Removing it from your
mouth he returns to your buttocks rubbing the sweet ice on your
flaming cheeks. Cooling them allowing your heat to melt your
lover of frost, running in cool trickles into your heated
crevice. You feel it parting your cheeks probing deeper, slowly
seeking your opening. You clutch the blanket in both apprehension
and anticipation.
It has found you.
The journey into your body begins as your sphincter encircles
the intruder, trying desperately to protect you, but losing its
grip, too slick with oil and ice to hold. It takes you
repeatedly, sinking inside, pouring its cold energy into you as
the heat from your body drains it. You moan and raise your
quivering hips to challenge each cold thrust. You become a
squirming sheen of femininity in need. As the sweat from your
skin runs down the line of your spine like a river of lust. The
tender cheeks of your bottom are filled with fire and ice as part
of you wishes it would end and another part wishes it never
would. As usual he makes that decision for you and you wonder how
he knows your limits without being told.
Once again his hot mouth soothes you. Warm strong hands again
massage your female jewel. After the cold, his heat is far more
intense and you revel in its potent effect. Your hands clutch the
bed spread as you whimper in ecstasy. Whimpers turn to moans,
then soon to a pleas as you begin to beg for merciful release.
Your body conveys your need for completion, writhing in wanton
abandon. Your small hands no longer simply clutch the bed spread
but strip the bedding until your nails claw the bare mattress in
urgency.
Mercifully he rolls you over and buries his tongue between
your folds. You feel it slithering along the soaked and beckoning
center of your femininity. Your pearl is hard and standing,
begging to be loved. He hears its call accepting it into his
mouth, giving succor. He begins the swirling motion that he knows
always brings you over the edge.
His fingers enter you and find the secret swollen rise
against the back of your pelvis. Using this grip to pull you even
closer. The motion of his strong fingers matches those of his
serpent tongue. The relentless assault is his answer to your
plea, the prayer you offered for satisfaction will be answered.
You will be granted the blessing of rapture. Gratefully you yield
yourself giving all your senses to his master touch.
For a moment the pressure is so intense you think you may
have to urinate. But then the fire spreads as you reach your
first release, your breathing stops. Every muscle in your body
flexes and quivers as your contractions begin. The muscles in
your love well pulse with a mind of there own. Wholly beyond
control your waking mind. Warm wine flows from your woman's
grotto only to be swallowed greedily by your lover. You hear his
moan echo inside you. This only adds to your response because you
know he desires every touch smell and taste of your femininity.
Slowly your release subsides but you do not regret its passing.
You know this lover you know the night is just beginning.
Yes you know this lover, and this lover knows your body,
understands that after your release, the muscles of your inner
walls will need to be filled, will need to cling, will spasm
seeking the hardness of a man to hold. As with all your needs he
fills this one. Lifting your seat in strong hands and driving his
shaft deep in one powerful thrust. No longer the gentle coaxing
lover he pummels your mound, fast and hard riding you with a
force that nearly drives the breath from your lungs. Your eyes
open in amazement, as you watch his body. The lines of his
strength defined, drilling his piston of flesh inside you with
total wantonness. Stopping only to press deep inside and compress
your distended jewel against his groin. You lock your legs around
the small of his back in an attempt to hold some of your weight
from him, but you know it is not necessary. Though his superior
physical strength is a constant knowledge to you, it is at times
such as these when you realize just how much power he possesses.
The weakness of your small frame rests lightly in his hands as he
irresistibly takes you. Splitting you with his shaft, possessing
you. Sweat pours down his forehead into his eyes. The sting of
salt only causes him to shake his head flinging it from him. This
beast of passion, carelessly swatting a small distraction far too
trivial to cause him to miss his pace. You are so intent on
watching the sheen of lover's toil on his hard frame, so
astonished at the vigor of his relentless onslaught that your
second explosion erupts before you feel its approach. A quick
build, then violent pulsing contractions, you shake with your
eyes wide open in shock. Your vision intensifies, your world
becomes so clear that it deifies reality, your lover its center,
you move beyond clear, he becomes a white glow, a strange
combination of vision distorted and a sharpness beyond your
comprehension. Still he drives on. No! Even increases his
efforts, turning your cry's to screams, not letting you recede
until your spent nervous system can stand no more.
Slowly evenly he lets you down, his movements now barely
perceptible, placing your small bottom on the soft cool bed. He
soothes you, leaning forward, kissing your now closed eyes,
licking your lips, letting your breath enter his panting lungs,
renewing him.
Touching, caressing, appreciative.
His hands explore the length of your body slick with your
sheen. Your long hair is soaked with spent desire, he brushes it
from your face. Being sure that you do not feel the sting of salt
in your eyes he wipes them with his lips. Whispers his devotion
in your ear with heated breath.
He withdraws and stands beside the bed his hardness still
not spent juts firmly from his hips. You see him reach to the
nightstand and retrieve a small cord, then grasp your slim ankles
and hold them in one large hand as he ties first one big toe and
then the other pulling your feet together. You giggle in erotic
respect as he rubs your feet with the scented oil. His ability to
find new and different delights seems boundless. Holding your
feet between his hands by the heels he enters the gap of your
slick arches. The sight of his velvet head staring at you as it
seduces your soft feet transfixes your eyes. Moving back and
forth in a hypnotic rhythm, a dancing cobra to your flute. Only
it is you and not the Cobra that is mesmerized. You cannot break
the spell of its mating dance as you watch his serpent languidly
basking in the supple sensitive flesh of your arches. You barely
notice as your lover takes your hand and coats your finger with
oil, then places it to your still swollen cleft. Your finger
moves in long practiced small circles on your well loved but
still distended pleasure median. Timing itself to the dance that
has captured your mind. The world has diminished to this one
small point, this is your existence, your reality. All thought
has been blocked, only you and the velvet cobra remain. Even your
lover's body disappears to blackness behind his dance. The cobra
stares at you with lust on his lips. There is no escape from his
spell he will claim his prey. Your mental clock has departed you
have no concept of time. Lost with this serpent of passion you
and he dance. The head of your tormentor swells slightly
preparing to strike. Your heart quickens knowing your moment is
near. You will soon be a victim of his primal need. Unlike your
lover this one knows no compassion. There will be no escape from
his strike, his only goal you. The meaning of his life is the
claiming of you. He will show no mercy. You welcome his lover's
venom. You crave the feel of its heat on your skin.
Still he does not claim you.
You are confused.
You have lost this dance!
Why does he wait?
Tormenting you.
What more does he require?
You once again feel the beginnings of orgasmic splendor. His
dance quickens sensing its approach. Now you know why he waits,
he must have your submission! This dance must end together.
You build in a slowly rising crescendo, unlike your last release
this one gives you forewarning, building evenly but willfully
higher. Frantically before you the serpent dances. You hang at
the peak as your voice makes sounds that have no meaning to
anyone but lovers, you speak in the tongue of the cobra, then
suddenly fall over the edge into the abyss of rapture.
He releases you from the spell. You have upheld your
bargain. Hot venom sprays your skin, streams of desires flame
streak your thighs, over your stomach and breasts, even reaching
your lips where you drink it greedily into your mouth. This time
you fall in ecstasy. The venom of devotion enters your skin
bonding you to this velvet serpent, but more to this lover.
- The End -
[Note: this story is protected by international copyright law,
all rights not expressly waived are reserved by its author.]
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