I go crazy over a woman in heels...
well-chosen heels -- not stripper or hooker heels....business/professional heels but with a naughty flair... maybe a daring print or a height just above 4 inches...
I go crazy over a woman's scent...
... perfume carefully chosen and sparingly used...just enough to catch your attention in close conversation...
...red hair... while I appreciate women with diverse characteristics, red hair is one factor that ALWAYS gets my attention...deep red, bright red... red hair and the fair skin that typically accompanies the natural redhead's body... drives me wild
...Sartorial perfection -- when not just the heels, but the whole outfit is perfect.. complementing her body, her hair... her work... clean, crisp, business-like ... but even if casual, well-chosen and well-suited for HER...
these are just a few of the things I like about women...
Tuesday, July 17, 2018
Monday, July 16, 2018
Business
she comes in and sits down on the couch
He sits across the room
As they start talking, he feels an almost animalistic desire inside...and his body responds
he imagines urging her shirt off... tasting her pale flesh...delighting in her incredible breasts... and ... he tries to distract himself... to "stay strong" and not give in...
As they talk, he sits next to her... admiring her lovely eyes...their intensity, appreciating the form of her body He can feel his erection growing steadily and suspects she has caught a glimpse... Her well-manicured hand drops to his leg... and he picks it up, kissing it...
MORE>
He sits across the room
As they start talking, he feels an almost animalistic desire inside...and his body responds
he imagines urging her shirt off... tasting her pale flesh...delighting in her incredible breasts... and ... he tries to distract himself... to "stay strong" and not give in...
As they talk, he sits next to her... admiring her lovely eyes...their intensity, appreciating the form of her body He can feel his erection growing steadily and suspects she has caught a glimpse... Her well-manicured hand drops to his leg... and he picks it up, kissing it...
MORE>
Inside
Their bodies are surging...rocking in rhythm...
her long legs wrapped around him... her hands on his back...
His cock growing and growing inside her...deeper as he grinds against her... their lips meet...then part
His lips, mouth on her neck, her shoulder, biting
he grinds she pulls him in...
he thrusts hard.. faster, she can feel his head swelling, pulsing... pumping hot, thick liquid inside her
He lingers, stays there, semi-hard, inside
MORE>
her long legs wrapped around him... her hands on his back...
His cock growing and growing inside her...deeper as he grinds against her... their lips meet...then part
His lips, mouth on her neck, her shoulder, biting
he grinds she pulls him in...
he thrusts hard.. faster, she can feel his head swelling, pulsing... pumping hot, thick liquid inside her
He lingers, stays there, semi-hard, inside
MORE>
Tuesday, May 15, 2018
Long Jacket
She wore high black heels and a long black jacket. The day was warm, breezy, too hot for a jacket.
She hadn't been touched in months, nearly a year. She was hungry. Nervous.
She knocked.
He sat in a chair. He wore khaki pants and a white t-shirt.
He looked at his phone. He hadn't been touched in months, nearly a year.
His body was shaking a bit, the anticipation and nerves tempered with a deep desire.
She heard him move, heard the click of the door.
The door closed. She was pushed against it. There lips met. Fire.
He unzipped the jacket.
She wore a think white tank and tiny black cotton panties.
His mouth was on her chest, tongue teasing a hardened nipple. Her hands in his hair.
His kisses floated down her stomach, to her thighs.
His tongue traced a line to her knee. Then kisses danced up her other leg.
Back down.
His mouth encircling her ankle. His tongue teasing the high arch of her small foot.
He stood again. Their mouths met and locked and their lips explored, exploded.
She felt the heat of his desire. Unzipped his pants as he grabbed her ass to pull her even closer.
He led her to the bed. Pulled her panties down and watched her take a seat.
His mouth focused on her thighs, kissing, licking, tasting. He delighted in her response, loved the smooth skin, the sweet taste.
His tongue parted the folds of her pussy... tasting the salty-sweet heaven. Light pressure on her clit, lips and tongue and desire. His whole mouth made love to her. He was relentless. He felt her near climax, and she felt a perfect suction, a sensation she'd nearly forgotten.
As she let herself go, he licked more gently, absorbing all she had for him.
He stood, kissed her lips, let her taste what she'd done to him.
She pulled her tank over her head, threw it on the floor.
His mouth on her breasts again and then she pushed back.
Her eyes went to his now throbbing cock.
She licked her lips and then he felt her tongue flick against his engorged head. The taste of his pre-cum ignited her. She took all of him in, then back out. Then licking up and down his thick shaft.
As she circled his head with her lips and tongue, she looked directly at him. The sight of her, this beautiful woman he'd wanted for years, nearly sent him over the edge.
He told her to turn around, and her ass was in his face.
He tasted her ass, teased her. She then felt his cock against her anus, then down.
He was inside her, her heels still on.
She begged him to fuck her, to fuck her hard.
He gave all he had, pushed deep, held himself there.
His hands now on her breasts, pinching and twisting her nipples.
Her pussy was incredibly wet and yet her grip was tight, intense.
He found a rhythm, pounded hard as she screamed for him not to stop.
She felt his mouth on her neck, felt his teeth bite her shoulder. She heard him grunt and felt him pulsing inside her.
His hot semen flowed and he held himself there, their bodies lightly sweating.
He let go, popped out. He collapsed on her back and turned her head to his, tasted her still desperate kiss.
As they lay together, he began to stroke her back, massaging her shoulders.
He straddled her, admiring her firm ass. As she relaxed, she raised her ass to meet him and each time she did, she made sure to tease his stiffening cock.
He turned her over, looked straight into her green eyes, and thrust his cock deep inside her again.
This was just the beginning. A stolen moment that would lead to more.
She hadn't been touched in months, nearly a year. She was hungry. Nervous.
She knocked.
He sat in a chair. He wore khaki pants and a white t-shirt.
He looked at his phone. He hadn't been touched in months, nearly a year.
His body was shaking a bit, the anticipation and nerves tempered with a deep desire.
She heard him move, heard the click of the door.
The door closed. She was pushed against it. There lips met. Fire.
He unzipped the jacket.
She wore a think white tank and tiny black cotton panties.
His mouth was on her chest, tongue teasing a hardened nipple. Her hands in his hair.
His kisses floated down her stomach, to her thighs.
His tongue traced a line to her knee. Then kisses danced up her other leg.
Back down.
His mouth encircling her ankle. His tongue teasing the high arch of her small foot.
He stood again. Their mouths met and locked and their lips explored, exploded.
She felt the heat of his desire. Unzipped his pants as he grabbed her ass to pull her even closer.
He led her to the bed. Pulled her panties down and watched her take a seat.
His mouth focused on her thighs, kissing, licking, tasting. He delighted in her response, loved the smooth skin, the sweet taste.
His tongue parted the folds of her pussy... tasting the salty-sweet heaven. Light pressure on her clit, lips and tongue and desire. His whole mouth made love to her. He was relentless. He felt her near climax, and she felt a perfect suction, a sensation she'd nearly forgotten.
As she let herself go, he licked more gently, absorbing all she had for him.
He stood, kissed her lips, let her taste what she'd done to him.
She pulled her tank over her head, threw it on the floor.
His mouth on her breasts again and then she pushed back.
Her eyes went to his now throbbing cock.
She licked her lips and then he felt her tongue flick against his engorged head. The taste of his pre-cum ignited her. She took all of him in, then back out. Then licking up and down his thick shaft.
As she circled his head with her lips and tongue, she looked directly at him. The sight of her, this beautiful woman he'd wanted for years, nearly sent him over the edge.
He told her to turn around, and her ass was in his face.
He tasted her ass, teased her. She then felt his cock against her anus, then down.
He was inside her, her heels still on.
She begged him to fuck her, to fuck her hard.
He gave all he had, pushed deep, held himself there.
His hands now on her breasts, pinching and twisting her nipples.
Her pussy was incredibly wet and yet her grip was tight, intense.
He found a rhythm, pounded hard as she screamed for him not to stop.
She felt his mouth on her neck, felt his teeth bite her shoulder. She heard him grunt and felt him pulsing inside her.
His hot semen flowed and he held himself there, their bodies lightly sweating.
He let go, popped out. He collapsed on her back and turned her head to his, tasted her still desperate kiss.
As they lay together, he began to stroke her back, massaging her shoulders.
He straddled her, admiring her firm ass. As she relaxed, she raised her ass to meet him and each time she did, she made sure to tease his stiffening cock.
He turned her over, looked straight into her green eyes, and thrust his cock deep inside her again.
This was just the beginning. A stolen moment that would lead to more.
Friday, May 11, 2018
Borrowed Sugar
He snaps the pictures with his phone and sends them off as instructed. He waits. Dark circles of sweat already forming on his red polo shirt. He looks out the tiny window in the small space he rents. Some months, he actually makes the rent payment. The landlord says nothing as the building is old and the air conditioning barely works and she wants to present a somewhat full building to prospective renters.
He sees the number, knows what the call is. He answers. A few questions and a promise of a call back.
Fifteen minutes after he's sent the pictures and filled out a very short application, he's told he can get $400 in cash at a nearby store. He says yes.
His phone tells him the nearest location is just over a mile away. He walks in the July heat as driving would mean giving up a treasured parking spot.
He returns and finds that the air conditioning on his floor is now working. He removes his shirt and uses napkins from the men's room to pat his body down. He stands near the vent and shivers as he is cooled.
He takes off his belt and leaves his shirt untucked. Opens the laptop and finds something resembling work to do.
A knock.
She's here. They never kiss. She doesn't like kissing.
He sits back behind his desk, she sits in the large, comfortable chair across from it.
Her voice. It is her voice that draws him in. Arouses him. He can't explain it, but when she talks, he is moved. His body reacts.
She is fifteen years younger, blonde curly hair, large breasts.
She's on her knees now, rubbing his thighs. He unbuttons his khakis, she unzips them.
Massaging his cock through boxer briefs, pulling it out.
He stands, pushes them down.
His cock is hard and the head is glistening with precum. She strokes it as he watches and smiles.
Teasing him with her tongue, tasting the saltiness.
He reaches down, urges her up and she removes her dress. His lips on her breasts, hungry, desperate.
She moves back down, his cock on her body.
He's back in her mouth, she's devouring him.
Hand in her hair, eyes closed, he's letting go. For one or two minutes, he allows himself to let go. As he becomes absorbed in the experience, his cock grows larger, pulses in her mouth.
He holds her head close, holds her still, thrusts and explodes and more and more. She's steady. When he removes his cock from her mouth, she licks it, uses her fingers to wipe up the cum, licks more.
He pulls up his pants, zips. He sits in the chair behind his desk.
His head light and fuzzy and wonderful. He looks at her, she smiles.
She makes up some reason she needs to leave and at the door, he hands her a small envelope with a crisp one hundred dollar bill inside.
She's there and gone in fifteen minutes.
He sees the number, knows what the call is. He answers. A few questions and a promise of a call back.
Fifteen minutes after he's sent the pictures and filled out a very short application, he's told he can get $400 in cash at a nearby store. He says yes.
His phone tells him the nearest location is just over a mile away. He walks in the July heat as driving would mean giving up a treasured parking spot.
He returns and finds that the air conditioning on his floor is now working. He removes his shirt and uses napkins from the men's room to pat his body down. He stands near the vent and shivers as he is cooled.
He takes off his belt and leaves his shirt untucked. Opens the laptop and finds something resembling work to do.
A knock.
She's here. They never kiss. She doesn't like kissing.
He sits back behind his desk, she sits in the large, comfortable chair across from it.
Her voice. It is her voice that draws him in. Arouses him. He can't explain it, but when she talks, he is moved. His body reacts.
She is fifteen years younger, blonde curly hair, large breasts.
She's on her knees now, rubbing his thighs. He unbuttons his khakis, she unzips them.
Massaging his cock through boxer briefs, pulling it out.
He stands, pushes them down.
His cock is hard and the head is glistening with precum. She strokes it as he watches and smiles.
Teasing him with her tongue, tasting the saltiness.
He reaches down, urges her up and she removes her dress. His lips on her breasts, hungry, desperate.
She moves back down, his cock on her body.
He's back in her mouth, she's devouring him.
Hand in her hair, eyes closed, he's letting go. For one or two minutes, he allows himself to let go. As he becomes absorbed in the experience, his cock grows larger, pulses in her mouth.
He holds her head close, holds her still, thrusts and explodes and more and more. She's steady. When he removes his cock from her mouth, she licks it, uses her fingers to wipe up the cum, licks more.
He pulls up his pants, zips. He sits in the chair behind his desk.
His head light and fuzzy and wonderful. He looks at her, she smiles.
She makes up some reason she needs to leave and at the door, he hands her a small envelope with a crisp one hundred dollar bill inside.
She's there and gone in fifteen minutes.
Thursday, February 22, 2018
13 Years
13 years since then. Since Seattle. Since the sun opened up in a way it never had before and never would again.
13 years since the beautiful green and rain dampened mornings.
13 years since I saw a path.
13 years since I was pure, whole, complete, and knew what to do.
13 years since I first had a drink alone.
13 years since I made up my mind.
13 years.
I walked everywhere and hardly slept. I worked, and wrote, and took it all in. I knew I was home, knew Seattle would be home -- or at least would be the way I found a way out. A way home.
I once thought there was a way I could find that clarity again. That my spirit could soar.
13 years since the one, brief opening.
13 years since I chose to try one more time, to give a little more of myself.
13 years since a month turned to two and turned to something from which I could never turn back.
Now 12 years since the darkness crept in, forever clouding the light.
I escaped that first darkness. I thought I did.
Now 9 years since the darkness returned. 8 years since it took over.
Just 6 years ago I realized I'd been robbed of joy. And that marked 7 years since Seattle. Since hope.
One sentence. Three words. Words I wouldn't say. Not out loud.
Instead, I wonder.
13 years ago I could have been pure, earnest, with but one tiny blemish.
13 years ago I might have offered myself as a source of strength to the brown-haired girl I'd known from school. Or perhaps more eagerly pursued the clearly interested co-worker.
Or just left. To home. To Seattle. To Somewhere.
13 years since Seattle.
13 years since the bright sun. Since the clarity of purpose.
13 years since purity.
13 years since I was whole.
I can trace each minute in my mind, can see each hour pass, can feel my heart race and my spirit sing.
13 years.
13 years since the beautiful green and rain dampened mornings.
13 years since I saw a path.
13 years since I was pure, whole, complete, and knew what to do.
13 years since I first had a drink alone.
13 years since I made up my mind.
13 years.
I walked everywhere and hardly slept. I worked, and wrote, and took it all in. I knew I was home, knew Seattle would be home -- or at least would be the way I found a way out. A way home.
I once thought there was a way I could find that clarity again. That my spirit could soar.
13 years since the one, brief opening.
13 years since I chose to try one more time, to give a little more of myself.
13 years since a month turned to two and turned to something from which I could never turn back.
Now 12 years since the darkness crept in, forever clouding the light.
I escaped that first darkness. I thought I did.
Now 9 years since the darkness returned. 8 years since it took over.
Just 6 years ago I realized I'd been robbed of joy. And that marked 7 years since Seattle. Since hope.
One sentence. Three words. Words I wouldn't say. Not out loud.
Instead, I wonder.
13 years ago I could have been pure, earnest, with but one tiny blemish.
13 years ago I might have offered myself as a source of strength to the brown-haired girl I'd known from school. Or perhaps more eagerly pursued the clearly interested co-worker.
Or just left. To home. To Seattle. To Somewhere.
13 years since Seattle.
13 years since the bright sun. Since the clarity of purpose.
13 years since purity.
13 years since I was whole.
I can trace each minute in my mind, can see each hour pass, can feel my heart race and my spirit sing.
13 years.
Tuesday, February 20, 2018
A Few Minutes on Thursday
Their bodies stuck together with a light, pleasant sweat. Both completely naked, exactly the same height. Her long fingers played in his hair, their legs intertwined.
Her words soothed him and his words made her smile.
In these moments, he marveled at her beauty. Her small, perfect breasts with pierced nipples. The length of her tan legs. The Latin words written down one side of her body.
The sheets and comforter a deep red, the lights off and blinds drawn.
The day outside hot, summer at full strength.
Her sister back in about an hour.
But now, right now, for these few minutes, they could relax, close their eyes, say words, and smile.
Just minutes before, hot semen on her back, dripping down her leg...On all fours as he entered her, found rhythm, admired her tiny, tight asshole and the tattoo just above it, held her waist, and pushed all the way...
Before that, her mouth on him, his boxer briefs tossed aside, the head of his cock throbbing and pulsing against her lips and tongue.
Holding her after her climax, the one caused by his mouth, his fingers, his hungry tongue.
Never more than two hours together, mostly just over one.
They both craved those moments, those minutes. All of it intense, passionate, wondrous. The few minutes just before he left the most wonderful of all.
Alone. Together. Darkness. Words. Light touch on sensitive bodies.
Every Thursday for one summer. A few minutes.
Her words soothed him and his words made her smile.
In these moments, he marveled at her beauty. Her small, perfect breasts with pierced nipples. The length of her tan legs. The Latin words written down one side of her body.
The sheets and comforter a deep red, the lights off and blinds drawn.
The day outside hot, summer at full strength.
Her sister back in about an hour.
But now, right now, for these few minutes, they could relax, close their eyes, say words, and smile.
Just minutes before, hot semen on her back, dripping down her leg...On all fours as he entered her, found rhythm, admired her tiny, tight asshole and the tattoo just above it, held her waist, and pushed all the way...
Before that, her mouth on him, his boxer briefs tossed aside, the head of his cock throbbing and pulsing against her lips and tongue.
Holding her after her climax, the one caused by his mouth, his fingers, his hungry tongue.
Never more than two hours together, mostly just over one.
They both craved those moments, those minutes. All of it intense, passionate, wondrous. The few minutes just before he left the most wonderful of all.
Alone. Together. Darkness. Words. Light touch on sensitive bodies.
Every Thursday for one summer. A few minutes.
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