Wr1tt3n0ne

Bunches and bunches
2020-05-22 14:43:35 (UTC)

Nothing To Infer

Images of my teeth nibbling his chin, tasting skin and the rough texture of stubble. Dragging kisses and licks down his Adam's apple, it's the gratifying heat of lust and another undercurrent twined round each other. Mr. Curved Line's name is a great one for being forced out from between teeth gritted in pleasure struggling to hold back loud peaks. I've been wanted, but never by someone so articulate. This grown up exploration is entirely different, being so well explored and known. There's not much to infer, and although it darkens both of our cheeks, it's incredible to know. There's no subterfuge.

I'd settled for so little from former lovers, settled for putting the words in their mouths. While I am adept at words, it's a lonely place. His declarations touch me and electrify me with how direct they are. One of the worst wastes of vocabulary is lust. All metaphors aside, I don't want to be longed for by artistic turns of phrase. If you cannot gasp it between moans, I have no use for it. Lust is so straightforward and I would not have my lily gilded. Lust grabs you by the collar and drinks long of your lips, and it cares not a whit for any syllable longer than an exhale. He tells me that my name may be to long to get out before he kisses me. I can only hope so. For my part I feel that his is already close enough to a satisfied sigh, I feel certain I can work it in at some point. I confess I would not delay kissing him for it. To H*ll with names, when it comes to joining of bodies, first thing's first.

In so many late night calls, he wraps my name around his tongue and tastes it. I have no doubt that I am the one he wants wrapped up in his arms, bent backwards being explored by his mouth. And ambition be d*mned I am extremely please with my role. When these roles lie satisfied on the floor, I know him to be one enamored by our chatter, my laugh and his, fingers intertwined. There's sweet depth to us as well. He tells me he's smitten with me. Just like that. It does something to me. It reaches into me and cups my cheek, delicately adoring me, appreciating me. It quiets me in a certain way I have not felt in so very long. I am made bold in my sentiment. There's no chance I am not also taken with him.




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