Champagne spilled down her blouse like the morning dew on the edge of flower petals. It dripped in aged wealth down her ageless breasts to a place where only my eyes could imagine there were gardens of succulent nipples waiting to be caressed by my every touch and swirl of my tongue.
I would make her orgasm just by my gaze if I could, and maybe some day I will, but tonight as I sit across from her at this dinner table it is my undying duty not to reach across the two dishes of tiramisu and rip every button from her top until she was exposed to everyone around so they can know why I crave what I crave.. The cream of the desert is nothing compared to the insatiable flavor that emanates from her tipsy stare as her eyes flash signals of unrepremanded urge from her lost years as a working woman. This is her night to be free, to find liberty in every glass of rich liquid courage that seems to be harvested itself in her chest for too long, deep behind her breasts as her breathes grow heavier and heavier along with it’s desire to break free. My tongue looks for any part of flesh to taste as I sit only inches away and I become inferior to my compulsions, and soon her to her own. The table between us is set ablaze by the passion we share at 9 o’clock pm in this restaurant in France, and I am unsure of whether or not any fire department can make it up the cobblestone street in time before my tongue is down her throat and the tablecloths are turned to ash.
Author: 12AMXECSTASY
Champagne in Paris [m]
Champagne spilled down her blouse like the morning dew on the edge of flower petals. It dripped in aged wealth down her ageless breasts to a place where only my eyes could imagine there were gardens of succulent nipples waiting to be caressed by my every touch and swirl of my tongue.
I would make her orgasm just by my gaze if I could, and maybe some day I will, but tonight as I sit across from her at this dinner table it is my undying duty not to reach across the two dishes of tiramisu and rip every button from her top until she was exposed to everyone around so they can know why I crave what I crave.. The cream of the desert is nothing compared to the insatiable flavor that emanates from her tipsy stare as her eyes flash signals of unrepremanded urge from her lost years as a working woman. This is her night to be free, to find liberty in every glass of rich liquid courage that seems to be harvested itself in her chest for too long, deep behind her breasts as her breathes grow heavier and heavier along with it’s desire to break free. My tongue looks for any part of flesh to taste as I sit only inches away and I become inferior to my compulsions, and soon her to her own. The table between us is set ablaze by the passion we share at 9 o’clock pm in this restaurant in France, and I am unsure of whether or not any fire department can make it up the cobblestone street in time before my tongue is down her throat and the tablecloths are turned to ash.
Melted Ice [M]
I had never seen a treasure so beautiful, but her heart was like diamonds trapped in Arctic ice. With my axe I pounded and pounded, hoping that in the end I would have some to carry home, but my trials were not rewarded. Like lava to the snow I gave her every drop I had to offer, only to wish that I could move volcanoes to the farthest Southern hemisphere and unleash all of their restraints at once.
But volcanoes do not erupt in cold weather, and I became convinced that the more I touched her heart, the more numb I became. She knows no mercy, relentless like a winter without a day of sun and I was on the beach with m toes in the sand and a shiver in my spine wishing I had instead gone home.
Much like every winter, she would one day leave and I knew that I would be warm again, and so I decided that one day the snow would turn into sand again, and even the clouds would part and the sun may bless me for my endurance.
With calloced hands, I chipped away at all the frozen edges of her heart until my back was broken, but upon that moment I witnessed all I needed to see to become re-inspired and I saw a single line appear in the glass chamber encasing who she was. For a man like me, that was enough. She was melting, and the treasure inside was no longer impossible to obtain.
Starry Climax [M]
How many nights have the stars watched me from above as I wished they were the eyes of a million women watching my naked body as I ravage myself alone, showcasing every crevice of my identity. In my reveal of who I am, I hear their chants as they root for me across the sky, their voices begging, desiring, demanding, for me to transcend trough the night and into their grace.
I can feel them lift me up and set me down, only to lift me up again as I ride along the edge of what seems like the universe, testing the boundaries of space and time as I hold the shaft in my hand like a scepter for the sake of all of humanity. The serpent meets the sea as I stroke my value across their face, gently gliding my Tonge across their breasts, violently breathing in the crevices of their necks.
A million lovers all at once.
So a million songs are played in my ascent as I reach greater heights according to their commands. My cup runneth over and onto my belly where a million tongues lick up every drop, brazening my abdomen and chest with the salivation of victory and carnal precipitation.
There, in the sky, are my lovers forever.