I begin to awaken after a long peaceful sleep. The slow turns of the ceiling fan create a gentle breeze that breathes across the bare skin of my upper body. Reflexively, I roll to your side of the bed. The soft sheets gently caress my body. You're not there, but faint wisps of your scent remain with traces of your warmth you only just left behind. I inhale your fragrance and my hips instinctively react, tightening with a single searching thrust toward your recent presence.

A familiar stirring begins to flow within my soft cotton sleep shorts, my only attire. No underwear binds my rippling desire. Last night, I simply omitted them as superfluous. I wanted to allow easy access should you have desired more than just a goodnight kiss. Silently available to your potential erotic whim, I had the exciting sense of being your chamber servant; ready to service my mistress' lust. Last night's disappointment only heightens this morning's longing. And my longing begins to fill my shorts.

I crack a hungry eye. The dim light of the fading night allows the pink hue of our bedroom walls to peek through. The warm color entices me further.

I glance at your nude portrait on the wall. I see your soft flesh and naked feminine form. Coyly, you obscure your womanly mysteries, but your seductive expression invites me to come and partake.

My simmering desire is piqued. My mind locks on the magnificent woman who is willing to take off her clothes in a studio and pose naked for me, the body she strips to entice me, the flesh she bares and teasingly hides with her hair and leg while wearing only jewelry and her wedding rings. No clothing mars the beauty of her nudity.

In brighter light, the pink walls now remind me of the soft layers of your pink flesh, moist with the dew of desire. I am swimming in your wetness, touching and fondling damp lips and exploring your deep cavern with my fingers, kissing them, sucking them into my mouth, licking the soft folds of your pleasure. Consuming the taste of your juices, I taste your luscious ambrosia. I stroke your clitoris with my tongue, licking teasing sucking, delighting myself in your every twitch and tremor. I lie in bed imagining I am engulfed in your flesh, swallowed inside you like Jonah. But unlike Jonah, I don't want to leave my fleshly confinement. I prefer to remain wrapped in your soft warm pinkness.

Having kissed you, lip to lip, mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue, I know your love is sweeter than chocolate, your aroma more delightful that the most luscious delicacy. I have taken you away to the country, to the suburbs, to the city. We have known one another everywhere.

Colorado, Texas, New Mexico. We have withdrawn within our private shelters to taste each other's fruit, dining together, devouring one another.

Arizona, Oklahoma, Utah. I have danced with your twinkling eyes and covered myself in the luxury of your soft smooth hair. I have touched you; your arms face neck shoulders. I have embraced your soft breasts, fondled their smoothness, grazed on their sweetness.

Washington, Oregon, Califonia. I have entered your garden, tasted your love, drank of your warm sweet waters, and inhaled the earthy musky scent of your pleasure.

Montana, Idaho, Wyoming. Your shapely waist has drawn me, your graceful legs have opened to me, your curved hips have bent to me, your soft buttocks have turned to me and captivated me as I lay hands on you and enter the open blossom of your desire.

Florida, Brazil, Canada. You have spread for me a banquet of your mouth-watering flesh, your intoxicating juices and the satiating glory of your deep love. I've filled myself, greedily returning for more of you to feed my ravenous lust for your sex.

I must have you, now. My penis is rigid in my shorts, defying their covering. Still in bed, I slip them off and toss them away. My hardness bursts out, standing thick and long in the dark brown bush of my pubic hair. I am no longer content to lay in bed thinking about you.

I want the woman who slipped off her panties in the car after Mark and Lara's wedding reception and went into the restaurant commando with the bride's family, and enjoyed knowing I knew she was bare underneath in there with me.

I want the woman who took off her jeans in the car outside Spokane to let me reach inside her panties and caress her vulva as we drove down the highway, close to orgasm as we approached the city. I drove into Spokane with one hand on the wheel and one hand in your panties, fingering your eager clitoris until you came in town.

I want the woman who drove with me to my parent's house when they were out of town so we could skinny dip in their pool. You swam laps in the nude as I watched your wet naked body cut through the water. We made out in the hot tub and made love half submerged under the stars.

I want the woman who put on her black top, sexy heels and black mini-skirt and let me photograph her in several alluring poses; bottomless in one shot, but showing only what is above the table; clearly topless in another, taken from behind, but cut just above the waist with legs parted in a very tantalizing silhouette; and one picture where, except for the pearls, you were nude, but showing only head and shoulders.

I want the woman who takes sensuous photos of me as she did in our backyard, in Riverside, Costa Mesa and Redlands. And arranged for us to have out portrait made by a friend in the local newspaper's portrait studio where we stripped off our clothes for a short photo session together in an Adam-and-Eve-like pose.

I want the woman I had in front of a sliding glass door overlooking the Bay with only the light of the stars and moon reflecting over tranquil waters; who took me to the tropics and in the midst of a tropical rain, took me; whom I dragged out back during a driving thunderstorm and screwed on the picnic table.

I want the woman who opens her legs and invites me to devour her, focusing on her clitoris, licking and sucking, kissing and fondling while she plays with her nipples, writhing in intense pleasure; who masturbates for me, sometimes at my request and sometimes because she wants to; who lets me look at and ogle her body in various states of dress and undress for my pleasure; who plays silly sex games with me because I think it's fun.

I want the woman with whom I have tumbled so many times into a heap of twisting flesh; who lies on her back, guides my erection into her and kisses me as I lie on top of her thrusting gently, slowly or faster and harder than that, humping you enthusiastically; who goes down on me, gently licking, stroking and sucking me; who rolls over on top of me and slides herself down over my protruding member and rides me with gusto; who turns around, offering her genetalia to my mouth as she takes mine in hers.

I leap out of bed. I want you, need you. Every encounter we have ever had swirls in my memory as I seek out the object of my lust. I prowl, hunting you in our home, willing to hunger no more. My naked body slinks through the house; my reaching longing erection searches for its home. I move steadily through the living room, my excitement bouncing happily in anticipation of touching you, stroking you, filling you.

I see you lounging on the back porch, sipping coffee as a cool morning breeze gently brushes the soft red hair descending around your tranquil face, bright and fresh as the sunrise. You look up as I open the back door and enter your sanctuary.

Your eyes don't linger over the lean contours of my naked body for long. My rigid erection is ready now. Your eyes sparkle and your face brightens as you rise silently in front of me and turn your back to me. My flesh is full and warm with my fervor, steadfastly hardened in my determination to find you and have you.

You reach to unfasten your shorts and slowly, deliberately wiggle them with your panties down to your ankles. You hand me the nearby tube of "personal lubricant" and lean over the table as you slip one foot free of your pants and open your legs, ready to service me.

I slather the lube all over my penis. It jerks sharply in response to touch. I am already on edge. When I finish, I grab your hips. You reach down between your legs to pilot my shaft where you want it to be. It twitches again as you gently lovingly nestle it at the opening of your vagina. I slowly begin to press inside of you. I am deliciously swallowed. My engorged flesh pushes deeper and deeper within your body and you press back, receiving me willingly, gladly. I feel your flesh stretching around me as I fill you with mine.

I thrust slowly, pumping you gently at first, savoring the sweet friction of your warm vagina over my penis. I increase my tempo a little, firmly grasping your hips. You gleefully meet my thrusts faster and faster and faster until I am furiously humping you. You brace yourself on the table and desperately try to keep up with the pounding you receive. Your hair flays and the soft flesh of your body shudders with the shock of each impact. Our bodies repeatedly collide, slapping together as I hammer you in frenzied lust. I have no aim other than my orgasm, as quick as possible.

I feel my semen rising under pressure through my loins to the joint where our bodies are coupled tightly together. I grunt and roar as my orgasm splashes inside your eager surrendered hole. I spray my seed like a geyser, filling you with the gusher my testicles can no longer carry. You take wave after wave after wave of my pressurized cum. The thick fluid is continually pumped from a seemingly inexhaustible reservoir inside me. I clasp your hips as my erection spits the final throes of my eruption into you.

"Mmm," you say. "Are you finished? How was it?"

"Glorious. Thank you."

"So, was it good?"

"Oh, yes. It was very good."

"I like to service you. It's kinda hot."

"Is it?"


"I'm really glad you like it."

"Oh, I do."

"I do, too."

"Yeah, it kinda got me up."

"It did?"


"Do you want to get off, too?"

"Ummm, would you mind? You don't have to."

"Would you like to be serviced, too?"

"Ooo, yeah."

I slide my now limp penis out of you as you stand. You turn to face me, cast your arms around my neck and kiss me full on the mouth. It is a long, sloppy and hungry kiss. Then you back up to the table, sit on the edge and spread your legs to be serviced.

I kneel before you. A stream of my semen has trickled down your thigh. I stroke your enlarged outer lips softly. With my finger tips, I tenderly tickle your swollen inner lips. You put your hands in my hair, wordlessly telling me what you want me to do. I slowly slip my finger past the lips to find you wet and messy inside. Then I slide my moistened finger out and over your clitoris. You flinch sharply.

"Oh, yeah," you say.

I finger your clitoris. You moan and gasp your breathless approval. But you persist in your unspoken request. You pull my head closer to you, guiding my mouth to your open sex. I succumb to your craving, locking my mouth on your lips and sucking robustly. Then my tongue breaches your flesh, wiggling in to the one organ you need me to attend to. I lick you and suck you.

Your hands fly to your chest. You lift your shirt and bra, exposing your breasts, and manipulate your nipples while I suck on your clit. And I suck and I lick. I suck and I lick. I suck and I lick. You become frantic, working yourself up through your nipples as you buck your hips into my mouth. Your tension builds and your succulent juices, mixed with my own, begin to flow like sweet champagne. You take irregular and deep breaths as you teeter on the brink of your mounting explosion.

You start to moan, and your moans give way to shouts, and your shouts give way to wails. You shriek, demanding that I finish you. I jam my mouth to your vulva and grind my tongue across your clitoris slowly, pressing hard. You throw back your head and scream. Writhing and convulsing around my face, your orgasm races through your shuddering body, seizing you with intense electrical ecstasy. I feel each quiver and spasm in my open mouth plastered to your vulva as I gorge on your bliss.

When the tremors subside, you raise me to my feet and reward me with a forceful, protracted kiss. Our fluids are smeared all over each other's groins and my face, but we lock mouths as we often do after making love, in the mutual gratitude of passions fulfilled.

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