hip hip horray

Your hand slides from my stomach to my side, behind the small of my back until it is under me, lifting my hips as you lower your head. I can feel the splay of your fingers against the back of my waist and the tightness of my panties against the top of a single thigh as your hand grasps the thin white cotton and pulls the elastic down on one side, just far enough for your lips to find mine.

My soft bare skin, sweet and swollen, slippery with nectar and completely hidden by your dark head, is being lifted to your hungry mouth as you kneel between my creamy thighs. I can feel the coarseness of your hairy thighs on the smooth skin on the back of my own as you wretch the lower half of my body upwards, supporting me with your strong and muscular forearm.

I can see your shoulders flex and tighten as they push between my shapely thighs and then my world explodes in sensations, behind eyes closed with effervescent and silver blue bubbles of pleasure. The sharp scratch of your rough beard growth, rasping over my delicate skin, makes my hands clutch fistfuls of sheets in an effort to secure myself to the feathered bed and stop myself from spinning out of control.

Exquisite and oral love making; being held so tightly, feeling my heart beating painfully hard every time your tongue reaches places that make me throb in response for you. My sweet and plaintive cries swirl around us and it both inspires and invigorates you into lingering with purpose whenever you hear my breath catch.

You devour me with the snarling voracity of a starving panther and because I am a woman of passion, I abandon myself to your every desire, making it my very own. I arch upwards, pressing my succulent sex harder against the fullness of your lips and mouth as my thighs redden from the abrasiveness of your five o’clock shadow.

This entry was posted in Sex and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

12 Responses to hip hip horray

  1. mel says:

    oh my, as always, your words leave me tingling!

  2. Love me some shadow please.

  3. I read something today – a quote but it made me think of you and I hope you don’t mind but you inspired in part a satirical piece on shitty partners. I had this image of a woman being so frustrated, that even when she is desperately trying to communicate what she wants – what she says could still be construed as unconsciously passive-aggressive. I suppose that’s an oversimplification – it’s supposed to be amusing, but awkward. Anyway. It is what it is :p I’ve learnt a lot from your blog.

    • rougedmount says:

      well i am glad you have ~ passive aggressiveness is insidious and it is heavily salted through much of my marital interactions

      • I hope you like it – I wish I could pick you up and replace you somewhere healthy. I’d’ve gone crazy crazy and lost the will to live completely by now – I guess having that anger keeps you going in a way.

      • rougedmount says:

        i’m not ‘angry’..lol..i suffer moments of discontent assuredly and i deal with sexual frustration on a somewhat grande scale…but neither of those things over rides my life to the extent that it ‘ruins’ things. not now. now i understand i am in charge of my own sexual life if i choose. now i understand that the physical discomfort is easily rectified but it means nothing without the mental meshing that means something for me. i have had a shift in thinking that while i would have given anything to not have experienced, i can not negate its value.

      • How funny, I read a post of yours where you addressed this, after I commented, but before reading your reply – it is taking increasingly longer to keep up with everyone.

  4. sparkles4m says:

    Wow, fascinating! ahhh!

Share your thoughts...I did

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s