This is creative and exciting—to let go of reality temporarily and give in to the alter ego. To trust and be trusted. To play, to explore, to push boundaries of convention and gender roles.

With Alan, I have this. For a time.

“Come over here, Baby…”

I leave the front door unlocked so he can find me here on the bed, waiting.  Sade’s sultry refrain echoes softly against the candlelit walls of my little room:

This. Is. No. Ordinary Love…

“Mmmm, you smell good…” he purrs, crawling slowly up the bed, his body strong and lithe– like a panther.

Long strands of auburn hair brush my leg and I smile down at  his cool blue eyes peering shyly through those long, thick lashes. He plants a feather- light kiss on my thigh and continues up to hover over me, big hands planted on the mattress behind my head– dipping his head to accept a hungry kiss from my smooth, parted lips. He smells like weed and clean laundry. I run my fingers through his freshly washed mane, letting it spill all over my face, inhaling sweet shampoo perfume.

He knows by what I am wearing, the tight, black outfit with the French-cut legs– that tonight I will be on top. His is to simply obey and not give me any trouble. But oh, how I melt for him, how I crave the sight of him. How I can’t wait to touch him… savoring him like a rare delicacy.

I let him kiss me, arching my neck, offering my most vulnerable flesh for his mouth, his tongue, his teeth. He knows what I like and he’s well trained now in the low and slow art of my arousal.

My hands smooth over his shoulders to rest between the broad blades, intently exploring his spine, fingers memorizing every inch of vertebrae, traveling in a slow, thorough examination–a study of his interior architecture. Lingering at his hips, I grasp the bones of his pelvis firmly between my hands.

Holding him like this I feel an aggressive energy rising within me. I want to dominate, I want to have my way with his body…to subdue and to excite. I am hungry–so hungry. I want to taste every part of him.

Caressing the sensitive small of his back I continue down to explore the smooth contour of his buttocks. He closes his eyes and moans softly, gently nuzzling my breast. His breathing is slow and quiet and the current of energy between us begins to hum–invigorating a fire deep inside my belly.

Extending one finger, I tentatively trace the ridge of his erection, just the underside, moving from base to tip and back again, relishing the twitch and throb of his swollen anticipation.

Ours is a ritual, a meditation. A deliberate, methodical consumption of breath and body. Of flesh and bones and nerves. I want to burrow beneath his skin and live there. We are lovers, we are sister and brother. We are mother and child. Moment by moment, one touch at a time, we integrate–to move as one body,  fully consummated.

Responding to my cue–a gentle wrapping of my thigh around his, he releases one shoulder to the bed and we roll over together until I am positioned on top, poised now, to take control of our pleasure.

To be continued…

 

 

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