Morning face

•December 23, 2012 • Leave a Comment

Morning Face

“I see your morning face,
I see your morning face.
I see what no one’s supposed to,
I see you naked and true – I do…”

Small Sins, Morning Face

This is your morning face, so different without the mask of animation worn by your waking self.  More angular, I think, cheek and jaw more sharply defined.  Yet, the sensual man you are is revealed in the warm, full lips, replete with your unconscious vitality and unconstrained by thought or desire.

You are self-contained, even in sleep; quiet, but not at all restful. You look remote. I realize that it is as the song says, that I am seeing what no one is supposed to, that this is you, naked and true. And that, as intimately as I know you, you are a mystery to me.

But if nothing else, you have taught me that mysteries do not need to be solved to be enjoyed.


Questions and Answers

•December 2, 2012 • 1 Comment

Not my usual post and not timely either, but this was inspired by a set of questions posted here several months ago (his answers are here and here).  The poser of the questions wanted one-word, yes-or-no answers, but I find that an almost impossible task. This is the  I-can’t-help-but-explain-the-answer version.

  1. Eyes or lips?   I don’t look at a man’s lips but I’d rather a man have talented lips than pretty eyes.
  2. Give or get?     I love giving oral but I prefer getting fucked.
  3. Fuck or be fucked?   I’d almost always rather be fucked.
  4. Direct or indirect?     Direct. I have no subtlety and am prone to misread social cues.
  5. Implicit or explicit?     Explicit. See above. Plus I love dirty talk.
  6. Teach or learn?     Learn. I want to be corrupted.
  7. Memory or fantasy?     If you mean to get off to, fantasy. Memories get kind of  shredded around the edges and fantastical in the fringes after a while anyway.
  8. New or old?      Experiences? Lovers? Clothes? Open to new ones, comfortable with old.
  9. Teased or sated?     I’ve never been with anyone who has had that kind of patience (or interest, to be honest), so I can’t say how I feel about being teased. I know I definitely like being sated. And sated. And, again, sated.
  10. Public or private?     Private. Always. Sometimes very non-transgressive public stuff is okay but not much.
  11. Loud or quiet?    Quiet. Except when I’m not.
  12. Lightness or darkness?     Philosophically speaking, or literally? Philosophically, I like basically light but leavened with a good pinch of darkness. Literally, I prefer light.
  13. Hot or cold?     Hot. You’re kidding, right?
  14. Wet or dry?     Wet. Except if I end up with the wet spot.
  15. Audio or video?     Is written a choice? No? Then I prefer hearing words to seeing pictures, but it’s not an either/or preference.
  16. Music or not?  (and then… what kind of music?)     Not. I am way too distractable.
  17. Incense or candles?     Neither.
  18. Dressed or nude?      Start out dressed, then nude.
  19. Casual or dressy?     Dressy; it’s kind of a role playing thing. Also a self-esteem thing. Casual is good, too, but works better with a different kind of vibe.
  20. Fucking or oral?     Fucking. Fucking. Fucking. (see “Give or get?” above)
  21. Licking or sucking?     Sucking.
  22. Kiss or touch?     Kiss. I love kissing.
  23. Tickle or spank?     Spank. Tickling? Are you some kind of sadist?
  24. Spit or swallow?     Swallow. It’s a manners thing.
  25. Vibration or penetration?      Penetration. Vibration gets me to orgasm, but penetration is a more…holistic experience.
  26. Once or twice? Or seven times?     Seven times. Or as many times as you can make it.
  27. Fast or slow?     Fast. But I don’t know what you have in mind, or what fast or slow mean to you.
  28. Hard or soft?     Hard.
  29. Hairy or bald/shaved?     Do you mean oneself or one’s partner? For myself I prefer closely trimmed rather than completely hairless. For my partner I prefer less rather than more hair in the pubic area, because it’s simply more pleasant for oral, but leave the hair on the rest of the body alone.
  30. Big or small?     Big or small what? Cock? All cocks look big to me, but I know from experience that some cocks are too big to be immediately ecstasy causing for me. Body type? What do you mean by big or small?
  31. Tall or short?      See above on body type. I prefer my partner to be my height or above. That’s probably the only criterion, and that’s not even hard and fast.
  32. Natural or made up?      Natural.
  33. Gloss or lipstick?      Gloss.
  34. Perfume/cologne or not?      Not. I like perfume, but in moderation, and I have very definite taste, so it’s easier to just go without. This is doubly true for my partner. I prefer the smell of clean, without any added scents.
  35. Now?    Now.
  36. Later?  Later.

Holy Dark

•November 21, 2012 • Leave a Comment

His body is a furnace, stoked by sex, and I have been cold forever.  Moored close and tight, I seek his profligate heat. My head is against his chest, and the thump of his heartbeat syncs with the throb of blood in my skull.   He has my leg trapped between his, and my thigh rests against his groin and I can feel his cock, warm and alive.  He nuzzles the clean dampness of my skin, kissing my head, playing with my hair.

We talk as we play; it’s wayward conversation, full of happy potential.  Words are, after all, the mortar of our relationship.  In this, as in almost everything we share, he leads and I follow.  He is quick, nimble and unexpected – never too clever to catch, always too clever to anticipate.  In the shared cocoon of coupled bodies and layers of blankets, there is a sense of quietude, of contentment. I am utterly relaxed.

He likes to keep me unbalanced, I think, and discomfited.  And so I am a little vexed but not surprised when he abruptly pushes me onto my back. He grabs my bent legs above the knee and spreads them wide.  I fuss a little, wordlessly.  His response is immediate and unequivocal:  he leans down into me, his thighs pressing mine open to the point of pain.  One hand circles my throat, high up just under the jaw; the other is beside my head, tangled in my hair.  He whispers, “I am going to fuck you.”

The world becomes irrelevant.  Everything – play, vexation, comfort, heat, light, eveything – is eclipsed by the shadow of need that moves over me.   He smells it, senses the dissolution of mindfulness.

He straightens his body away from mine.  Intent now, his predator’s eyes watch me as his swollen cock crowds my cunt.  He presses in slowly, allowing only the head to penetrate before he withdraws.  Again and again, gauging my readiness, but teasing me as well.

This is not what I want.  I feel myself getting more slick with impatient arousal.  I flex around him, contracting and relaxing my cunt in time with his forays, gauging his readiness and teasing him.  Almost, almost he stays expressionless, but I see his pleasure in the flaring of his nostrils and the tightening of his eyes.

He doesn’t like it, doesn’t like that I’ve elicited a response that he has not wholly permitted.   He lowers himself so that we are once more skin-to-skin.  My hands are free and I run them down his body, relishing the sensation of stroking him: shoulders, back, flanks, the bunching muscles of his ass as he fucks me.

At first, it is rhythmic; measured and full of intent.  The pleasure builds and the rhythm dissolves, until he reaches some level of arousal known only to him, and abruptly, he pulls away and sits back on his heels.  He does this again and again – fucking me hard, then disengaging.  In the interstices, he dances quickly from one rough game to the next: now biting my breast until I am crying, now straddling my face, pinning my arms with his knees and pushing his cock into my mouth.

And then, while he is fucking me again, smooth and deep, his breath warm against my cheek, his body catches him unawares.  A small, animal yelp of surprise and he burrows into my neck, latching on with lips and teeth, a frenzy of motion.  Jolting shudders wash over his body and I feel the warm spurts filling me and the rapid tattoo of his heartbeat against my chest.

He comes to  a stop, ending in breathy moans.  When his breathing quiets, he shifts his body and wraps his legs and arms around me and pulls me tight and close against him.

Finally, I am warm.