Self-Love

In the darkened room lit only by a reading lamp in a corner, he sat on a chair. A metres away was a solitary figure lying on the bed, beginning a performance of sorts, with him as the only audience.

Her shirt came off slowly, the fabric itself putting on a dance, teasing him. The edges slowly rolled over her thighs, then her torso, and over her breasts. Her fingers, like dancers across the stage, dance playfully across her skin, the inside of her thighs, over her crotch, up across her belly, around her nipples.

And as she stared intently at him sitting across the room staring back at her, she massaged herself through her panties, the thin fabric quickly becoming soaked with her juices. As she peeled it off, she saw him licking his lips in the dim light, and she knew she’s got him.

Spreading her legs wide, in full show in front of him, she slowly rubbed herself into ecstasy, the sighs turned into moans, her hips lifted off the bed at the height of it all, an eruption of pleasure from both her act of self-love and knowing that she had driven him to the brink of insanity from her little performance.

When she was done, her skin glistening, she sauntered over to where he was sitting. Leaning forward, she stared into his eyes, grinning.

“Your turn.”

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8 Comments

  1. everytime i read your blog…i have this desire to know you, pleasure you, fuck you. call me sick. call me delusional. call me a bastard. but admit it. you got all the attention you wanted.

  2. Yes I tend to have that effect on people. *laugh*

  3. well, if u may, i would love to indulge more deeply into you. access to the protected posts would be nice. you have my email.

  4. indulge? heh.

    email’s on its way.

  5. Yikes! I need to head back home and wake up the wife and take care of a “need”!

  6. Haha. Enjoy 😉

  7. Never made it home …. 😦

    Stayed at work.

  8. awwww


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