Sunday, May 31, 2009

Sensual Perusal

Dearest Larissa,

---I would love to hear you read aloud a favorite passage or two from something I have written.

---I would love to be in your company when you read a new story. I would try to include something that might surprise you.

---I would love for you to be nude in my company when you read one of my new stories or read aloud to me favorite passages from ones I had written.

---I would love to watch your eyes as you read. I would love to watch you moisten as you read. I would love to watch you play with yourself as you read.

---I would love to watch your eyes from between your legs as you read. I would love to unfold you as you read, unsealing the envelope to read your message for me.

---I would love to watch your eyes as you read with my fingers deep inside you, my eyes fastened on yours, my tongue licking into your soul.

---I would love to listen to you read my words, slowly at first, then faster, then modulating your pace, with my tongue attuning itself to your rhythm, your pace

---I would love to watch and feel you as you begin coming to the conclusion of my story....moaning as the seduction builds....panting as the action intensifies.....each word of my story, like each stroke of my tongue, taking you..... Oh, my God, I want to feel it so bad....You quiver a little before getting to the end. You are tempted to skip to the end or throw the story away, and sheath my sword deep inside, up to the hilt. But you keep reading.

--- I so much want to be watching you as you come to the last sentence. I so much want to be fingering you as you go there. I so much want to be tonguing you as you get there. I so much want to have you wrapped around in my arms as you begin coming, as if my arms were lined with sensors, connected to some seismograph, holding you, kissing you, fingering you, making love to you with my words, as you begin to shake, feeling all over what my words are doing to you as you take them inside your mind.

--- I'm watching you now intently as you approach the last sentence. Your eyes are smiling but they are also on fire. Your lips purse up in a tight circle, but then relax into a smile, and then a phrase of mine, or a flick of the tongue draws them taut again, as if biting into the lemon before taking the hit of tequila, your pussy puckering now as well, as you tighten your love muscles around a single finger, as if thanking with an embrace the pencil that had written the words.

---I'm watching as you quiver again slightly, as you stop reading for a moment just to catch your breath. You pull my head up to you so we can kiss, your own juices lubricating our lips. I offer to read the last lines as you might want to play with yourself alone, bringing yourself in the way you know best. But we return instead to our previous places.

---The story I've written for you to read is the story of man and woman, freed from the bondage of relationships gone bad and from the various misfortunes of life, now linking themselves together, like black pearls on a strand, through words, fantasies, desires, hopes, dreams, and storytelling. The story is the story of the adventure that led the woman to have the man's words in her hands and the head that conceived them between her legs. Here are the last lines.

--- I am watching and feeling you so intently as you come to the last sentences that I can almost see your pupils dilate. You have read a line that particularly excites and allures. Your pussy walls now open up. Your cunt a cave, your clit engorged, a fire before the opening of the cave, illuminating it, warming it, beckoning me to enter.

----I enter your deep cave with two fingers as I suckle your clit. Your mind is filled with words from the page. Your ears are filled with whispers from my heart. Your pussy is filled with my fingers spelunking in your cave, exploring its recesses, searching for the sources of its moisture, drawing designs on its walls, finding its hidden treasure, a spot marked on maps I've seen by a G.

---My tongue now teases the clit, like bellowing a fire, kindling it higher, its flames licking upwards higher and higher, throwing off heat every which way, your whole body now surging with the heat of passion everything opening up, the floodgates unleashed, your mouth opening as wide into a circle as your lips can stretch, a silent scream written all over your face, its color reddening deep, flushed from the intense heat burning up your pussy, breaths bellowing out of your mouth in short bursts like a pioneer blowing on embers in rapid breaths to ignite tinder into a burst of flame, a body that now wants both the fire and the flood--the final flicker that will ignite it all into a roaring combustion and that will bring on the thunder and lightning, the rain, the drenching thunderstorm that will pierce the high humidity, that will make the dry dessert of your soul bloom again in a burst of wild flowers, that will turn your pussy from the iridescent fire of black opal to an oasis.



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