So welcome to my blog . . . it is a chronicle of my thoughts, experiences and advice on all things sensual and erotic. I have been on a serious sensual quest for almost twenty years. I entered the blogosphere to share my discoveries with all of you. These entries might be serious, silly, and meaningful but I guarantee you that they will all be spicy, erotic and arousing. I hope that they will make your juices drip. So enjoy~!!!.
The snow was tapping softly on the window pane; it distracted me from the erotic reverie of her lying next to me. The icy snow seemed to be scratching at the window as if it was an intruder desperately wanting to come into the room and warm itself in the steamy heat of our love. The streetlight on the corner outside the window glowed weakly through the frosted pane, piercing the blue air of the room; it projected a fan shaped array on the blankets. The light caressed my cloth covered thighs, as if taunting the snow that couldn’t get in. The silence of the snow filled air disguised the fact that it was bitter cold outside. It was 6 AM on New Years Day morning. The cool blue – gray air of the bedroom was just as still and quiet as the snow covered street was. But the chill seemed distant and unreal as we both lay naked under the safety of our covers, bathing in the heat of each others bodies.
She rolled towards me, pressing her breasts against my rib cage. I could feel her nipples hardening as they rubbed against the tender skin under my arm. I daydream about them when I am away from her. They are perfection. My eyes are drawn to them like moths to a flame whenever she displays her naked body to me. They are soft and graceful in an elegantly pendulous teardrop shape; her sweet dusky pink nipples are on set the upper side of each tit giving her sweet globes a slight upturned character. Her hardened nipples under my arm reminded me of their sensitivity; they harden with the least stimulation.
My thoughts are wavering between the reality of her burning sensuality next to me and memories of intimacies shared over the years. I thought of the many times that I lay alone far from her fantasizing of her bared chest and the hardened rosy pink teats. They betray her calm demeanor when we are lying together embracing in the moments before we make love.
My reverie continued to draw me away from the moment. Images of her nipples filled my thoughts. I imagined drawing her soft nipples into my mouth; my lips enveloping them as I massaged their softness with my tongue. I envisioned a nipple trapped in my mouth, held firmly by the suction of my lips around the pink flesh that encircled her nub. I felt them harden in the teasing grip of my tongue. Chills overcome her and she squirms and sighs as the pleasure forces her body to shudder and tremble. In the bliss that has taken control of her nipples she holds the back of my head, forcing my lips to her tit; I feel her heart thumping as the pangs of desire throb deep in her pussy in time to her pulse.
In the divinely soft whisper of a lover she urges me to not stop my tender and insistent tugging at her stiffened nubs. The adoring attention of my mouth on her nipples is making them ache with desire. My oral devotion makes her breathing become irregular as her arousal wraps itself around each breast tightening the soft skin in goose bumps. The blush of growing arousal spreads across her chest and makes the skin from her tits to her chin glow pink. When there is no more skin across her chest to inflame, the tingling fire of lust inches down her belly, lingering around her belly button teasing it and hanging there for an instant before it continues its journey to find the warm sweet secret place between her thighs. When the song of arousal finds her opening its music teases her clit and blows a long low sweet note of desire into her eagerly waiting pussy. The lips of her womanhood part slightly, attempting to sing a love song in response to a familiar and welcomed tune. As I feel her trembling with growing desire my cock hardens in recognition of the erotic song that silently fills the air..
My attention is drawn back to the moment as her shifting weight on the bed made it creak and squeak. In the quiet, the plaintive noise of the bed cut through the still air; it was as if the bed was complaining about being disturbed in the quiet restful stillness of the early morning.
As she pressed her tits against me, the heat of her bare skin on mine anchored me in the blissful sensuality of that moment; my mind could not wander. I felt the velvet softness of her skin on my own and the coarse hair on her vulva on my thigh. Her femininity was screaming at me in the silence of that room. It would not be ignored.
I leaned over put my arms around her and held her bare back. There is something very sensual and sexy about the curve of her delicate feminine back. She is slim but curvy; it is like she is made of silk that covers fine china, she seems so fragile and sensual under my large hand. I put my hand between her shoulder blades. I leaned over and nuzzled the tender silken skin on her neck, under her ear, kissing her softly. She sighed and nuzzled into my embrace.
My face was buried in her neck, I could smell her hair; her scent penetrated my brain and stirred memories again. Her hair had the familiar delicate soft scent of her signature shampoo. My head smelled memories; memories of the erotic rapture I feel when she gives me her body in arousal; memories of pleasure shared and vulnerability exposed. Memories of intimate times shared, entwined in each others arms floating in waves of orgasmic rapture. Memories of my torso lying between her soft warm thighs, bare flesh to bare flesh, my penis hardened by my love for her, buried deep in her vagina. Stiffened in lust and love, reaching into her penetrating her, as it tried to express my adoration and seek the fountain of her own feminine lust.
But underneath the lilting sweet shampoo there was also was the unique scent of her skin; it was the signature smell of her, a mysteriously magnetic scent that stirred so many more memories from the depths of my mind. Yet there was something else that drifted into my nostrils as I held her to me. It was the unmistakable scent of her arousal; it drifted from the glistening lips of her awakened pussy. I thought of those dewy lips opened by her need for me and her love for me. That scent is a powerful aphrodisiac, it gripped my cock, tugged at it and teased it to drool and throb for her.
I lay there with my body bathing in the thick sleeping passion, my brain became lost in the intoxicating scent of her , yet she remained half asleep. My mind wandered again; with deep gratitude I thought I am the man that she loves passionately. In the warm sanctuary of our bed she craves being near me and she gives herself to me in great sexual need and without shame. She is drawn to me by my male sexuality but also by the familiarity of me. She knows my body, she can read my mind and my cock. Her hand on my iron hard penis tells her of the love I have for her and the lusty desire that she fills me with. But she can also look into my eyes with tenderness and see my soul and the love I have for her.
Now, even in her sleep she can read me like a book. She rolled to me sensing my erotic thoughts. Her subconscious desire was fighting to bring her body near to me, or better to lay on me and nuzzle my cock against the mouth of her steaming hot vagina. That desire struggled to get her to respond and emerge from the dim recesses of sleep, but the safe and secure warmth of my body relaxed her and drove her back to the misty world behind her eyelids. I heard her sigh and I cradled her body tenderly to me as my cock waited patiently in its sweet anguish..
As we lay there embracing each other the karma of my passion was intense and difficult for her to ignore. Yet despite how much she tried she could not escape the narcotic lure of waiting dreams. She struggled to waken, but could not escape the lure of dreams of unrealized erotic love that were ignited in her by the feel of my body against her.
In the midst of her struggle her desire tried to gain purchase of anything physical that could pull her back to consciousness. In those few minutes of struggle her hand groped for anything; it found my hard cock. She grasped it. I was yanked from my thoughts with a start, but remained still. Her hand wrapped around the crown of my penis just as she sank back to sleep. She held it like a woman drowning at sea and the hardness of me was a rope that would save her. As she slipped away into the mist of dreams and quiet darkness, the warmth of her hand expressed the wetness of my passion to drool from my cock. My precum hung by a long clear string until it pooled on my belly. Her wetted hand relaxed, as she sighed and breathed deeply and evenly, giving into the sleep; she relinquished my fleshy rope, her connection to the moment. She was drifting in a sea of sensual experience in a dreamy place far from the security of my embrace. My heart raced.
She loves me deeply, I know that and I have always known it. She is mine and I revel in her complex femininity and her sensual and sexual responses to me. Her complexity can sometimes be interpreted as being fickle, but it is not. She is emotional, she can respond differently to the same thing on different occasions depending on how she feels. She has a deep and varied store of emotions, feelings and experiences to draw from. Her response to my warmth in the bed is one of those things.
Sometimes the heat of my body will drive her crazy with lust . . . consuming her with ragged arousal and red hot desperation; a desperation that screams in the shrill voice of unfulfilled need . . . a need to be penetrated and feel my hardened lust as it throbs and pulses deep inside the soft dripping caress of her vagina. She will have an aching need to hold the male essence of me so close inside of her that I am part of her. In those times the need to feel my cock so deep in her that it touches her soul, stimulating her to the precipice of orgasmic freefall.
The sight of her naked femininity hardens me. Her pussy is like a forge, shaping my cock like a forge shapes iron, elongating it and thickening it to meet her need. Her scent, her touch and her kisses inflame my rod to a stiff glowing red, giving my passion physical form. I am stiffened, hardened and tempered by her sex
Lying there next to her in a moment like that I was frantic. I could think of nothing more than burying my face in her crotch, parting the lips of her silken flower, sliding my tongue past her silken lips and teasing her opening to quiver. Delving past the yawning mouth I can feel her heart beating just inside the opening.
so deep that when she cums, I can feel her pussy convulsing in orgasm around me in synchrony to the pumping and throbbing of my cock. I desire to be so deep inside of her that when the engorged, wet tip of my penis spews my liquid love into head she feels its heat in her belly. .
Yet at other times as we lay naked under the covers sharing the semi conscious heat of my love, the security of my presence will lull her into the blissful peace of sleep. Her trust of me is so total that she will remove all bodily covering, and expose her nakedness and more importantly her bare soul and her spirit to me. Sometimes her desire for me drives her to open her legs to me beckoning my mouth to her sweet pussy lips. Her desire so intense that she casts aside her vulnerability and shamelessly gives her secret flower to my lips to savor, taste relish and tease to gape open with lust
When she falls asleep naked in my embrace she ultimately sheds everything beyond her clothing, she sheds pretense and she trusts me to cherish her, care for her and protect her. Lying in my arms she feels physically and spiritually naked yet she feels the power of my love and she feels safe. My love for her can be narcotic. She sleeps.
I am awake though and I cannot sleep. Her warmth, her presence has stirred my passion and my soul. I love her and I long to express it with my arms, my lips but especially with the elongated throbbing flesh that has hardened between my legs. But I want her to rest so I give her the gift of sleep. I lower my legs out of bed and touch the floor. Standing, I reach for my robe in the darkness and put it on noiselessly. I bend over her in the dark, unable to see her, but I can sense her. I can feel her persistent passion; it is there in the darkened room blazing invisibly around her like a beacon. I can smell her, I feel for her with my warm lips and then I feel the softness of her forehead on my lips. I kiss her softly and inhale her. Her smell wraps around my brain like a comforting balm. I will retain the warm adoration that I feel, it will soak into me an saturate my thoughts all day. The kiss I give her spreads the warmth of my love for her; the warm sensation of my lips on her forehead washes over her like a clear blue wave on a white sandy beach in a tropical sea. She is not conscious, but I feel the wave stirring her wherever she is …she sighs and settles into the bed that still retains the imprint of my warmth. She slides her head onto my pillow seeking the memory of my head from the pillow and taking it from the pillow to be her own…she always does this when I get up. I think to myself ….good morning sweetness.
I go downstairs and flop in the easy chair in the office. I roll my laptop cart towards me and I think about writing this. I begin to write. I start with a focus on the gentle side of passion and the sensuality of the female form in all its complex function. As I write my mind drifts off to my lovely lady asleep upstairs. She is not before me, it is dark and quiet in the house but I know her body so well that I can sit here and imagine it curve-by-curve and hair by hair.
I often do this when I am traveling; I will be alone in a bed in a big hotel room in some city far from home. I will lay there naked in the downy bed my cock throbbing with longing for her and I will envision her naked form. I will paint a picture in my mind of the delicate folds of her sex as those sultry lips recede into her hot pink vagina. I wonder as I lay there is she dreaming of me …is she dreaming of the fullness that she would feel as my penis presses at the opening of her vagina, forcing it yield as I penetrate her, slowly entering the soft supple cove of her sexuality. In her dream is she desperate to have me sink my lust firmed flesh into her so she can relish in my hardness until I erupt in her bathing her insides with thick ropes of my cum. Or does she want to have me tease her and tantalize her, displaying my stiff male desire wantonly before her eyes, just out of reach?
The snowplow crashes its blade on the pavement outside the office window, startling me, the village is clearing away the snow but they cannot clear away my memories of her. I look at the computer screen and I see the words and the thoughts of gentle sex and passion turn into hot and heavy fucking.
Three hours later I am lost in my thoughts and far into this entry and I hear the creaking of the stairs. This time worn two hundred year old house is a gossip. It always wants to be the first to know something and distinguish itself as knowledgeable. It is always trying to be more than it is …just like me. This house and I understand each other. It understand us and we understand it. It is my friend and it tells me everything. It tells who is in what room with the voice of its creaking floors, its stairs whisper to me in the snap of wood pulling on nail that someone smells the coffee I made earlier and is attracted to it.
It is her coming down the stairs. I think that her desire has won out over the sleep. My warmth was gone from the bed and she now comes looking for it, like a tigress on the prowl, or maybe she’s just looking for the coffee whose smell has permeated the house.
She pads across the darkened living room and peers into the office from behind the Christmas tree and says hi. I put down the computer and go to give her a hug. She is in her English Flannel bathrobe, the one that comes out every winter like an old friend. I hug them both. I feel the flannel slide over her bare skin. I slip my hand under the flaps of the bathrobe my palms gliding over her breasts, nipples and her ass cheeks. She leans into me and kisses my chin. She has always kissed me there …she can reach it with her head tilted up and standing on the balls of her feet. No one but her has ever kissed me there, it is her spot to kiss. It is really not an erotic spot to most people, but in me it sends fire up my thighs and squeezes my balls. When I feel her lips there on the square cleft of my chin, the cum in my balls starts to boil. If she continues the kiss, the cum will boil to steam like a teakettle and my brain will whistle and I will scream in response.
The kiss ends and we stand there hanging on to each other as we have many times in joy, sorrow and worry. These hugs bring peace to my heart and calm me but they also stir me at the same time. Underneath the calm security of the hug I think of her vagina and the passion that was stirring there earlier as we lay in bed. I wonder if that passion has caused her vagina to weep the moisture of her lust for me. I wonder if those lips. . . . her vaginal lips are wet with lust. Then I thought of those sensitive folds and the sight of them with her legs parted as they revealed the heads of all our children as they entered this world. Those lips that I have kissed and suckled and licked so many times as I stirred the desire in her clit so that I could share the joy of her orgasm with her …mouth to pussy.
When we parted after the hug, my cock was drooling. She looked at me with those beautiful gray blue eyes; those eyes were speaking volumes, they gave me “the look”. It can only be described as “come fuck me now” eyes. I can read them clearly and that is what I saw that moment. My heart raced and I knew that her pussy was indeed probably gapping open and weeping for me. It was going to be a passionate morning.
I abandoned the computer and we went into the kitchen for coffee and left over apple pie from New Years Eve dinner. Mornings together are my favorite time; we sit over coffee and talk. It is this time that I think how passionate I am for her …but not just for her sex, I am passionate for her mind. And we sit there and talk and I see her hands wrapped around the coffee cup and I think of her wonderful hands. Hands that paint elegant pictures, that write letters (she still does), hands that have wrapped themselves lovingly around my erect cock to deftly coax cum from it. I think about that steaming cum as it erupts from the slit in my penis and rolls over the tip of my cock that is peering out above her thumb. I think of that cum spilling onto that beautiful hand and I think of her feeling my warm cum. It is hot on her hand from the love that created it deep inside me. I am stirred I my reverie as that image causes my penis to stiffen. I look at her and she is staring at me and smiling that subtle smile. I know what that means. We leave the dishes and go upstairs hand in hand.
In the bedroom she shucks her bathrobe like it was a cornhusk peeling off an ear of corn, to reveal the sweetness inside. I looked at her body, the body I love. The passion in my balls had indeed set my cum to boil. I could feel the grip of lust hardening my penis.
She smiled coyly and pulled my head to her warm lips and kissed me softly and deeply. Her soft supple lips said everything. It was one of those kisses that I remember from many times when we were younger. One of those kisses could make the cum in erupt and flood my pants causing me huge embarrassment. She has incredible kisses.
I laid back on the bed and she wordlessly took my semi flaccid penis in her warm mouth. The heat of her wet tongue on the sensitive underside of my cock head cleared my head of all thought. All I could do then was feel. I felt the warm wet suckling of my cockhead in her mouth. The sensation spread to my balls and caused them to lift into my body. The sensual heat spread like wildfire inflaming my insides and making my heart race. I was immobile. I could do nothing but lay there and give my cock to her as I drowned in a rising tide of ecstasy.
She straddled my hips and lowered herself onto me. The old familiar but ever new and wonderful feeling of piercing her wetted pussy lips reaching into her with my erect penis sent shivers up my spine. She ever so slowly pushed me into her as I lay there on my back. Her cunt was slippery wet and hot with desire. As I lay there looking at her, she looked at me and our eyes locked.
We often try to have eye open sex if we can but it is hard, not out of modesty but out of passion. In the raw heat of hard passionate sex closing your eyes is a reflex. But with a sensually slow gentle fuck open eye sex is amazing. As she kneeled above me with my rigid cock buried deep inside her softness she looked me in the eyes. Her eyes are sex objects to me. They stir me like nothing else. I could not think of her vagina, her clit or her tits, all I could see and think about were those eyes. They were cool and enigmatic as the mouth of her vagina gripped my aching cock and slowly sucked on it like it was a big pink lollypop. Artfully she pulled up sliding it out of her; milking it in the process. When the tip was just outside of her vaginal opening she held it there for an instant that seemed like an eternity; then she lowered herself onto it so that the head of my cock parted her opening again, it sent shock waves deep into me that hardened my prostate deep in my asshole into a knot. I could feel it swell and suck the thick hot cum from my balls into a hot pool readying it for delivery. She then lowered herself onto me ever so slowly again to make sure that I could feel the tip of my penis rubbing on the slick interior walls of her vagina in an excruciatingly slow and sensual motion. Her eyes watched mine carefully to see the impact that she was having on me.
I looked deep into her eyes as she did this over and over again. They maintained their steely yet loving dominance over me. Her eyes communicated control of me and control of my penis. But it was gentle and sensual control; a control that was intended to bring me incredible pleasure.
She continued to ride me and we kept our gaze locked. I don’t know what she saw in my eyes or what or when it changed if it did; but I saw change in her eyes. After about 20 minutes of her slowly and rhythmically spearing herself with my cock I was heating her passion. I could feel it on my cock before I saw it in her eyes …each downward stroke of her pussy on my cock was oozing her wetness into a puddle on my groin it was running down my balls and puddling on the bed underneath me.
When I felt the cold wetness underneath me I saw the change in her eyes. They wee no longer cool and enigmatic, they were looking as though they were desperately seeking something and didn’t know where to find it. It was not panic but it was close to panic. I recognized the look as the expression of the urgency of building rapture. Without a word I reached up to her and pulled her down to me, pressing her breasts to my chest. Her legs now were extended outside of mine with her full weight bearing down on my chest and pubic bone. I then began to slowly thrust my hips up pushing into her aching pussy. I held her face gently in my hands and kissed her with all the love and lust that I felt in my heart. I know her and I know that a passionate kiss at this moment both pushes her over the top into ecstatic spasms and it intensifies her orgasm by forcing her vagina to clench my penis in orgasmic contraction.
As her orgasm thundered into her she kept her lips to mine but she stopped kissing and groaned around my lips into my mouth: “oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck” as the orgasm exploded in her pussy. The agonizingly sweet shock wave reverberated through her and made her shiver and tremble as her vagina contracted on my cock. Her own blissful seizure, the kiss and the contraction of her vagina as it grasped and squeezed my cock in rhythmic pulses caused me to let loose the steaming cum that was boiling deep inside me. My back stiffened and my pelvis pushed up against her. She clenched onto me pressing her still pulsing cunt against me, burying me deeply inside of her. In anguished bliss I emptied into her, jetting thick hot streams of cum into her pussy in hard spurts. Each spurt felt like it was going to rip my penis open. We clung to each other in desperately as we shared the sensation of ecstatic orgasmic rapture..
When it was over we lay there …she on top of me. My penis, now softening was till inside her. She began to get off and I held her tightly and said: “no just lay here”. She did, I lovingly stroked her head until she fell asleep again. It was the magic of my warmth again. I was at peace and in love and it was going to be a good day …no a good year.
Peace, erotic sensuality and gentle love will certainly surround us all year and hopefully for the rest of our lives.