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Blogs > justpervin29 > A dorky shy pervert's mind |
Darkened Room Dance
Darkened Room Dance She places her book her bedside and turn off her light as she turns over onto her side. The clatter of the TV is silenced as he clicks the remote and places it down. She turns her head over her shoulder awaiting his goodnight kiss. Propping himself up upon his forearm he leans over her and places his lips softly upon her lips like the blanket rests upon their bodies. The bed shuffles and settles as he find his normal spot spooned behind her. She feels the relaxed muscles of the front of his strong thighs as they rest against the back of her soft thighs. Their hips align like two hands held when walking along the beach. The pitch and yaw of their hips settle and their legs and feet adjust to the gravity of slumber. His hand slide around her like a droplet of water running down the petal of a rose. His chest expands and contracts against her back as their syncopated breath falls in tune with each other. The night is quiet. Even the moon in its near new moon state seems to be closing her eyes subduing the light so no distractions part these two partners. The sensation his fingertips left as they slide across her soft supple skin, like skates over a frozen pond, can still be felt deep within her. The head is weary but the embers slowly start to smolder. His innocent loving touch sent electric shock waves through every inch of her. The sensation of her skin is welcoming, invigorating, comforting, exciting, stirring, and calming as a soft warm spring breeze that caresses your face after a long cold winter. His body slows as contented sleep slowly blankets him. She feels his hand flush against her skin. She remember all the things his hands have given her. All those times she has felt his hands caress her. How the felt as he massaged any sore muscles how they held her hand with in his and the world simply seemed better because her hand fit so well within his. How when he cradles her face in the palm of his hand She feels accepted and loved. How his hands covet and adore the feel of her. His hands conveying what he words can not. How beautiful he sees her, How sexy he finds her. These are the words his hands convey, for they can not lie. She remembers how his touch felt like fire melting her like unformed glass. Flooded with limbic thoughts her body responded. How much she adored how much he adored the feel of her breasts within his hands and his ravenous mouth. Her body tingled at the remembrance of how his hands cup, caress, consume fondle and squeeze her. How his fingers would flow down her body like water. Sliding between her thighs teasing exploring plunging into her finding and teasing all the spots he's learned of her. How his touch when she feels this way ignites her into an all-consuming torrent of desire. She gently rocks her hips softly grinding against him. Using her movements to find the outline of him trying to ignite the hardened fire within. Nearly asleep he stirs and the low moan resonates in her ear as sh feels her body become wet with need. She grinds and rocks harder feeling him harden against her. She rocks her hips back against him wanting to feel his desire strain and struggle to plunge into her. His hand cups her breast ans she whimpers as he pinches and gently pulls her nipple. She can feel every ridge of his fingertips every crease of his palm. Her panties become saturated with wanton need. His hip moves in time with hers prodding her through her clothes hell bent on delving into her and pleasing her. She gasps as she feels his teeth sink into her shoulder. She put her top leg over his legs. His hand slides from her breast to between her thighs. His fingers immediately slick with her juices. She continued to grind against him. Feeling his hardened shaft move with her. His fingers swirling around her and plunging in her. Two fingers easing into her faster and deeper in time with her swiveling hips The sounds of his fingers delving into her, over and over again, could be heard over the quiet of the darkened night. Their breathing becoming labored as the restraint crumbles to mutual desire. His fingers stop for the longest second and she feels him moving behind her. She feels him pushing her panties to the side. He is pressed against her. Her juices coating the tip of him. She needs him, he needs her. Her body pleads to feel him break the tension of this moment. Her hips move back against him he grips her hip with his hand. His fingers clamped down digging in claiming her. Holding her in place and he pushes into her. Feeling her body stretch around him. He is deep inside her. The jolting supercharged electric current that shoots through ever cell of her beautiful body as she feels the penetrating power of his devotion to them is to much to bear. She bites her lower lip to stifle the moan that tries to escape her. Yet her soft moan only amplifies the erotic aura that surrounds them. Sensual, sexual sensations surge as the potential becomes kinetic. There is no stopping what they both now crave. She grabs his hand that grabs her hip, ans so the dance begins. Authors notes: This was my attempt capture the metamorphosis of a single moment life cycle when the day to day comfort, leads to innocent intimacy, to sensual to sexual. The whole, well I guess tangent is probably the best description, hand motif was rather organic. Must have been my subconscious outsmarting me. The focus on the hands makes sense when thinking of my line of thinking as I was writing. The focus was the build up of the sensual nature from a simple intimate moment before falling asleep. How a touch, like a song or a scent can spark a memory and how memories can flow like a river with no direction. The feeling of the now, triggers thoughts of days gone by. So there it is, hope you enjoy and always any and all feedback is greatly appreciated and desired. |
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Well done, I believe there should be more of this in every relationship.
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after thirty plus years.... I know this dance..
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pervie.... the more i read your short stories, the more i find myself in them. You get to the heart & soul of things. Still don't know why you call Yourself dorky? these are good reads. *Smiles*
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1/11/2015 5:20 am |
Mmm the mind is stunning indeed. A soft gentle touch can ignite such passion, desire, want, need, and crave when that touch is from the one whose connection can be felt from far away. This was deliciously written deep within from where the smoldering fires burn and yearn to spread like wildfire.
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