Questioning Everything

What would you do for me? When you told me you would do anything for me, did you mean it? How much time, I wonder, would you spend finding out what anything is and proving that you would, in fact, do anything? Do you truly know what I want?

How creative and gentle a lover can you be?

Would you trace every curve, every corner, every crevice of my body with your fingers and then follow with your mouth, your lips, your tongue?

Would you be willing to cover my body with chocolate syrup? How about at your parent's house? In your childhood bedroom? On your mother's white cotton sheets? Would you tongue paint my nipples in chocolate? Would you dribble that sauce on your cock and outline my mouth, glossing my lips with that syrupy tipped head? Would you let me lick you clean then, or would you make me wait? Could you make both of us wait?

Would you surprise me when I least expected it and roll an ice cube around my clit and then trace my pussy lips with it as you did my mouth? And then would you work as hard at blowing my mind as you would at blowing my body?

Where would you take me to take me?

Would you let me go down on you in your office because you know I will be in mine later remembering it and wondering how long I could risk slipping a hand under my skirt? And, then would you bend me over your desk and fuck me mindless?

Would you be angry with me later for knocking all your reports to the floor trying to find a place to brace myself to meet your thrusts? Or how about for calling out your name quite so loudly and quite so many times while I came on your desk blotter?

Would you stall an elevator for me?

Would you pull up the back of my skirt, yank my panties down to my thighs and take me from behind? Would you promise to crush me with the momentum of your plunging cock so that the right cheek of my face, my breasts and my palms are pressed flat against the cool surface of one of the elevator walls? And maybe could you slow down and pull back so I could reach back blinding with my hands making grasping attempts to tug at your hips and pull you deeper up into me?

Could you do that, even if that elevator were made of glass?

How well are you willing to know me?

Would you be willing to tie me to your bed? Would you use your best silk work ties? Would you wear them afterward and remember me with my knees pushed up to my chest waiting for you to slowly enter me, and work me to the point of a frenzied orgasm with your cock driving into me while you circle your thumb and finger steadily around my clit?

Would you leave me bound no matter how much I begged and pleaded with you to let me touch you? And if I meant it, would you know when to free me? And baby, are you willing to figure out the difference?

When I started to cum, do you promise to pause and pull out just enough to torture me? Could you? And would you grab my ankles and hold them against your shoulders biting the arch of my foot while you finished us off?

How much control do you have?

Would you push me down on my back and settle between my spread thighs so you could slowly and gently breach my ass? When you are finally as far inside me as we both can stand, would you simply stay there? Would you not move but wait for me to feel my heartbeat pulsing there around your cock? Could you do it? Could you wait for me with your cock solidly stock-still in my ass and not cum just because you know how much I love that sensation? Then, would you hold my hands over my head and tell me how wonderfully nasty I am when I start to beg you to move? Could you control all of it? Even if I came first, could you wait?

And, baby, would you love me like this even though you really, really wanted me on my knees and elbows grunting your name? Would you do it this way for my pleasure alone or for your pleasure in seeing me so very well spent? Or dare I hope, for both?

How far will you go?

Would you fuck one of my girl friends if I asked you to? Would you let me watch you pull her legs over your shoulders and slip your tongue along the lips of her pussy? Would you mind if I sat cross-legged indian style on the bed watching your bodies move together touching my breasts languidly and tracing my own clit with my fingers?

Would you let me play with you two if I asked you very sweetly? Would you teach me to lick pussy showing me the best way to tongue her clit? Would you show me how to touch her with my mouth the way you touch me when I cum? After I learned, would you watch us while we 69ed? Would you slowly enter her so I can see truly close up what your cock looks like when you drive into me? Would you want me to lick you both while you pump in and out of her pussy? Would you not pause when I cupped your balls in my hands as you fucked her? Would you cum if stroked your perineum and then gently fingered your ass?

What would you buy me?

If I wanted a strap-on for Christmas, would you buy it for me? Would you go to a sex shoppe instead buying it off the Internet because you know I would get off for months imagining you picking it out, examining the lengths and girths and colors? Would you let me unwrap it and then try it out that morning, loving you with it under the tree? Would you watch our reflections warped and tinted in holiday colors like funhouse sex in one of those mirrored Christmas ornaments?

And, if we didn't have that ornament, would you make sure it was there that morning hanging at the perfect spot on the tree, at the right angle for you to see my face contorted in pleasure, and the profile of our bodies when I got on my knees behind you and stroked your back, your haunches, your thighs while I slowly breached your ass?

Would you do all this because you would love it as much as I would? And would you cum, there on your hands and knees with torn paper and crumpled ribbons all around you?

And later, would you trade positions with me so I can watch you take me in the same way I took you?

How much would you trust me?

If I met another man who I wanted badly, would you let me have him however I wanted? If I asked you to, would you hide in the closet watching from a crack in the door as I ran my lips over his cock and then took him deeply in my mouth?

And what if I didn't want you there? What if I wanted him all to myself? Would you let me go long enough to spend a night with him, doing everything I could think of to his body and then meet me at the door in the morning with my favorite coffee ready to hear about it?

Could you do that for me?

What if I brought him home with me that morning to play? Could you handle that? Could you go down on him with me, our tongues mingling around his cock, our mouths on either side of it? Would you wrap your lips around his cock while I rolled his balls in my mouth? And would you let us do the same to you? Would you love it, holding our heads in your hands while we devoured your cock?

Would you make love to me while he fucked you? Would you promise to look me deep in the eyes when he came in your ass? Would you shower with us? And then maybe on the bathroom floor, would you let me crawl on top of him and ride him? If I asked you to would you crawl behind me and press your cock into my ass while I rode him? What would you do to help me keep a rhythm as I rocked back and forth between your cocks?

No matter what I asked, would you promise to tell me what you want? Would you tell me no when you don't like something but move worlds to find something else we both want? Would you promise to hold me back when I go too far? And would you push me further than I thought I could ever go? But most of all would you swear to keep us both from reaching the end of ourselves?

Would you answer "yes" to most of the above and mean that "yes" a thousand times over? And if you did, what would you ask of me when I replied, "what wouldn't I do for you?"