Monday, January 9, 2012


So here we are today, and yet another thing makes my mind wander into areas it shouldn't.

I'm at the concert I mentioned before, and after it's over one of the other musicians is putting away her violin and she reaches into her purse and pulls out a bottle of water and a banana. I have no idea why she doesn't just leave, but she sits in one of the chairs and peels the banana. I'm zoning out at this point, but my eye instinctively looks right at her mouth as she takes the first bite.

It's like it all happens in slow motion. Her lips part, her white teeth crown the end of the banana, and her tongue makes contact with it. Her lips are painted pale pink, and they are full and soft. Her hand (which just a few minutes ago was dancing effortlessly over the strings of her violin) curls gently around the base of the banana, and then the banana's tip disappears into her mouth. My eyes stay frozen on this, imagining the sheer bliss that her fingers and mouth could harvest from not just my cock alone, but my neck, my sides, my back, my arms, and oh yes, of cock also.

I looked at her legs, and as her skirt slid away from one leg, I noticed how lean and muscular she was...not overly so, but she was a runner like me, no doubt. Oh, the things we could do with those eight miles of slender legs wrapped around me. *WANT*

Oh, but let's leave the fucking aside for the moment. That's not where I'd begin. I would lead her into a room with a soft string quartet playing on the stereo. I'd lie her back on the bed, removing those boots she wore and kissing her feet while slowly slipping a bandana around her ankles and tying a firm knot. Her hands would splay into mine, fingers intertwining, and I would (still fully clothed) straddle her and push her arms above her head. I'd whisper in her ear "Keep your arms behind your head, or I'll make sure you don't forget a second time." I'd slip back off the bed, remove my shirt and belt, then slip her skirt off as well. I'd lick her clit once...just once...enough to taste her. Then I would tell her to roll over on her tummy and show her bottom to me...hands still behind her head.

I'd start off gently letting the belt fall across her ass, almost caressing her with the falls. Building slowly...harder and harder until she whimpered and her bottom showed rosy pink lines. I'd tell her not to move, and when she felt she could not take any more, that she could BEG for me to stop...perhaps offer me a trade for ceasing her discipline...a deep pleasurable blowjob, a massage with those delicate hands of hers, or the feeling of her teeth on my neck.

After that bargain was reached and paid in full, I'd take her in my arms and lead her over to a warm bath...washing her from head to toe...perhaps shampooing her hair and letting my fingers work the lather into her scalp and massaging her neck gently...them move lower, concentrating on her clit and nipples when I reached those areas. I'd let her step out, naked in the cool air, body trembling, nipples hard as steel...and then slip my mouth over one nipple and then the next...backing her up against the nearest wall as I lifted those legs upward and felt the head of my cock rubbing her clit...rubbing...rubbing... feeling her wetness between us. Her hips arch forward and I slip inside of her...the union is euphoric and hot...and her eyes lock with mine and we begin the rhythmic dance against the wall behind us...

Perhaps this is where perfect cadence could truly make itself orgasmically evident...just keep perfect time, my dearest...perfect dazzling time... 

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