When genuine passion moves you, say what you've got to say, and say it hot.
- D. H. Lawrence -
"And do you think it possible? That I could show you such rapture?"
- Me -
Opium Satori
What is it when we come together? When your hand reaches out to touch me in the quiet of the room, and the contact of skin to skin creates it's own murmured electricity? This is magic, when I caress you, and brush your hair back gently from it's perpetual longing for your face. Can you feel it as tangibly as I? Do you believe that this is a wondrous dimension we create and animate and build together? Mm, yes… how instinctive it is then for our bodies to find one another, stripped of earthly wares and left only to the element of one another. Press your lips to the cool, faintly bronzed hardness of my shoulder as my arms slip around the small of your back and pull you closer, work your way up along my neck and underneath the fall of my hair just like I love to do to you. Be me, loving you. Let me move in turn as you would beneath each clever ministration of my fingers. How does it feel when I let them wander down over the bare warmth of your backside, and lower still, teasing you even as your breathless mouth finds mine?
What fascination I find in your mouth! My senses reel from the slick glide of your tongue against mine and the way you hesitantly venture to touch the curve of my teeth before once more surrendering to the succulence of our combined flavors. Drop your hand lower, between us and feel what alchemy you work, my love. Let me press you slowly to the silken sheets, cool white against the bed which waits like a solid island for what passion we may bank against it's unencumbered invitation. Stretch out long and lithe, drawing each muscle taut below my kisses that travel from the sacred hollow of your throat, down over the firm swells, thereon my tongue collecting and coaxing toward stiff exclamation, accompanied by an irrepressible moan of lustful longing that escapes on a slow breath between my teeth. I am led onward to biting and claiming each inch of your flesh as my own, feeling it willingly surrendered and raised against me, prompting my hands to wander in effortless command and infinite exploration. The journey pausing for drink in the liquid fire of your arousal that creates such mysterious perfume. It rises into the lust-saturated air to mingle with the sound of whispered pleas for more, for completion, for a union unequaled.
And what am I, in this body of flesh like pearled cinnamon; stone kissed by the quiet rage of the sun? What am I when I come into you? Envelope me with the infinite welcome of your sacred warmth. Bring me home with encircling limbs, and a low, primal sound that evolves and recedes into heated words of passion. Roll and break against every motion, every intrusion and retreat, each allowance and denial, all that is found then lost, and returned once more in crescendo, non molto. In the circular swimming magic comes a rising voice unspoken; Each of us aware in heightened sense, to the gentle violence within that stirs deeply, begging for recognition and completion, demanding through the ardent press of mouth to mouth, and gentle shifts that allow slow insistent strumming against inflamed and eager inlets. How the world ceases when you surrender and cry to the persuasion of my touch, pouring forth into the stillness with a sound like no other, calling my name in unbroken confirmation of your ecstasy! I am molded against each curve and spurred onward toward oblivion. Your fingers grip: wound into my hair, slid down my shoulder, onto my back and as low as they may reach, while the azure depths of your eyes search mine. With each exquisite return could I weep for this satiating union … even as a hunger draws sustenance for a well unfathomed. Take me and all that I can give, this is all I ask in the last breath, the catch of a whisper as my whole body arches and stiffens, everything else fallen away but the totality of the moment… the divine shuddering culmination of awareness within, the cry together seeming so far away…the energy suspended to dance electric in the air. How thrilling the thundering rush as it falls from the heavens and back inside, rushing through and forth in rapid, exhilarating release, and I am lost, utterly, to the rapture.
Fallen softly with no coherent words, in spent repletion against you I lay. With each fulfilled breath you draw, so do I rise and fall against you, equally content and surrendered to the receding firestorm that melds into a quieter version of itself. This, a gentler entity: a newborn sanctified and created time and time again in such resplendent fusion. In the darkness now, it settles with a smile on whispered words that catch soft tears of confession on the depths and heights to which we are taken, shaken and delivered from, into and for one another. Separation is no thought, even as drowsy languor claims us for a time. There are caresses, laughter and soft conversation to be had in the aftermath. Let the night pass on and dawn come calling, for this is home and bliss.