Desultory and Impulsive

He took a long drag of his cigarette. The kind one does of something they want to savor in the event that it may be their last.

"Dreams?" He said through the long exhale of smoke from his lungs. His fingers slid across the empty glass. Ice shifted. Meltwater mixing with what cheap aromatics were left inside. He lifted it to his lips. "My dad died young. And with him, went my dreams."
 
No matter who they are or what they do, few things dry a cunt up faster than when a man goes maudlin.

I should have known better than to try to tempt by touching his level with such a question. But yet at the same time I knew that if I were direct, that if I were to grab him by the balls and tell him how I wanted to feel what was inside of him swimming inside of me...

Actually, saying the such might have worked. But then... I don't know. I don't know. And now I'm left here feeling like an idiot. And I can't help to think that's how he wants me to feel and it pisses me the fuck off because I'm not an idiot and he KNOWS I'm not an idiot.
 
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She laid there
Placid and relaxed

Eyes closed as bubbling jets of water
Jostled her body

I watched her chest

Her bountiful breasts
Being bathed and washed
Under the flowing waters

I watched

And it was as though the water itself
Possessed the want of my mouth

And I found myself
Falling beautifully jealous that it could
Cause her to succumb to it

Just how I wanted her
To succumb to me.
 
She woke up late for work this morning
In her rush to find clothes to wear she rummaged through the clean clothes in the clothes basket on the floor.

I was still in bed just waking up myself

I turned to watch her with this want to help her but knowing any attempt I made would be one just in the way.

But what I saw when I turned is still sticking with me.

She was naked from the waist down
Her night shirt had ridden up well past her ass

And she stood feet together. Knees slightly bent. Bending at the hips.

The hood of her clit, labia, and curves of her asshole wonderfully visible, framed so well by the fluid outline of her hips and thighs.

She has since gone to work
And I am here drinking my coffee
Scrolling my phone
Wanting so badly for her to be here
So that I could lick her front to back; from her clit to across her asshole, all the way to orgasm.

Sexual desire is so maddening sometimes.

I could masturbate to the thought
But that's not what I want
I don't want my orgasm.

I want hers
 
Sometimes I think about her
And how I feel when we are together

The idle conversation

Mixed with an undeniable pull
Of wanting to embrace her

And feel her close to my body

The energy of feeling someone new
Different

The excited rush
Of feeling the feeling is reciprocated

Cycling through between each other's words
Not being heard
Over the driving desire
Behind each other's eyes
 
I was kneeling before her while she stood.

My eyes and face level with her hips
My arms reaching out
Wrapping around her
Bringing us together
And my strength
Keeping us there

She was still clothed
I was naked
And hard

And not pleasantly hard
Painfully hard
My erection was angry and hot
And wanting to split her open

My mind thinking
How I could shoulder into her
Bulldog her down
Scramble on top
Before she even had a thought
Of what just happened

I could have

But her hand came down
And my face nuzzled into it
Before I knew it even did

The perfume on her wrist

The quiet of her pulse against my lips

I was going to fuck her
But only when she said
And until she did
I could only do so
How I already was
In my mind.
 
..."Wanting so badly for her to be here
So that I could lick her front to back; from her clit to across her asshole, all the way to orgasm.

Sexual desire is so maddening sometimes.

I could masturbate to the thought
But that's not what I want
I don't want my orgasm."

I want hers




Love it...
 
This is followed by a deep urge to slap them.
A good slap of the profile of them
Not a whiffing glance across the areola and nipple. But a solid connection right across the soft fleshy meat of them.

Pulling her head back by her hair of course. Pushing my knee hard against her crotch. Grinding it against her clit.
 
Oh wow! I used to post in Bits and Pieces (part 1) This brought back memories.

Hope you are doing well! Good to see another friendly face still around.
 
This is followed by a deep urge to slap them.
A good slap of the profile of them
Not a whiffing glance across the areola and nipple. But a solid connection right across the soft fleshy meat of them.

Pulling her head back by her hair of course. Pushing my knee hard against her crotch. Grinding it against her clit.
Well said. I cant help but put her in your words.
 
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Well said. I cant help but put her in your words.
I've this memory of her you might like.

We were eating lunch outside this little bistro not too far from where I lived.

We were sitting at a table near the sidewalk
She was wearing a dress. The specifics of it have been lost to time.

But I do remember she wasn't wearing any panties.


We were talking our usual talk while contemplating the menu.

As is my nature I was observing the day, the people, the environment.

Behind me, walking down the sidewalk in her direction was a man similar in age to her. He looked to be just going about his day.


I looked to her and told her to spread her legs for him as he approached.

She had an incredulous look about her
But I knew the idea held much appeal to her.

I could not see her directly as her thighs spread ever-so-slightly enough. Through the expanded metal table top. But I knew she was exposed and I watched her face as she watched the gentleman make his way towards her behind me.

It was a curious experience
As by watching her I could by her expression precisely when he saw her as he walked by.

There was this rush in her.
An inhale where I resolved out of the equation
And it was just he and her
And she was open for him and him alone
Further cemented when I saw in her eyes
That they made eye contact
And she smirked a smirk
Letting him know
That what he saw was no accident
Before resuming her everyday look back towards me.

I think about the moment a lot
And how even though I was there
And how I orchestrated it

I still missed out on what he saw
And what he experienced
What his feelings were


It's a memory I play out over in my head
I can only imagine his perspective
The call of her body--
--how beautiful she was
The rush of wanting her
But having to keep walking by



It was such a a beautiful day.
 
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