Sonnet: It is not us.
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Posted:Dec 9, 2006 4:20 am
Last Updated:Apr 5, 2011 3:23 am
4185 Views
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When I was studying English at school I put quite a lot of time into Shakespeare's sonnets and always wanted to write one.
I wrote quite a lot of utter crap ones but in about 1992 i wrote most of this one, then left it unnatended for fifteen years! I have just finished it off and am quite pleased with the result so I thought I'd like to share.
Technically a shakespearian sonnet should have fourteen lines with the last two rhyming, but this is a simpler form of only twelve.
IT IS NOT US
Though I mourn, I ask of you no grief:
Let the departed rest, wake not their sleep.
Our love has had its time to savour life
But now must pass, its place in Heaven to keep.
Give me no more the thrill of mortal lips,
Give up no prayers our love's lost soul to save.
Place no more upon my heart your kiss
Send out no flowers to grace our passion's grave.
Weep not your tears for me that I am gone
Nor ponder in your heart on past desires.
Fix now your thoughts on life, not what is lost:
It is our love that's died, it is not US.
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11
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Cautionary Tale or Perfect Match?
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Posted:Dec 7, 2006 10:18 am
Last Updated:Jul 20, 2011 4:18 pm
5330 Views
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Fictional humour isn't always my strongest point but I had this idea so I thought....what the hell.
Although this story is intended to be true to life, none of the characters depicted below is intended to bear any resemblance whatsoever to any users on Senior Sizzle, particularly anyone who might be offended.
Annabel stood on the doorstep with her laptop under her arm, nervously twisting a wisp of her dark brown hair. The door opened and she knew instantly that her long journey had not been wasted. He was fabulous. A chiselled jaw, smoky blue eyes like Robert Redford, tall lissom; dangerous.
She knew everything about him, his habits, likes and dislikes, what he stood for, the way the slight throatiness of his voice would make her stomach clench and melt as soon as he said hello. She had known who he was but only now could she feel what he was. He was everything. He looked at her; not so much undressing her with his eyes as looking into her heart. He smiled.
"Anna, I'm Saturn5" he said, "- Max, that is!"
He stood back to let her enter, then easily slipped his arm behind her shoulders and kissed her gently on the lip. She felt a surge of adrenalin in her chest, then went so limp she nearly dropped her laptop.
"Oooooh, hello, it's good to finally be here" she gushed wildly, "will all my stuff be ok out there in the car for now?"
"Of course, it's pretty quiet here. Come in and make yourself at home. Would you like a drink?"
"Mmm, yes please, southern comfort if you have it!"
He smiled and went to a cabinet by the window. The curtains were drawn hiding the cozy room from the road, and there was a fire burning in a small Victorian style grate. Very romantic.
"Can I just log on and check my blog?" asked Annabel as he was pouring the drinks.
"Sure, do you need to use my computer?"
"No," she went on, "I can do a wireless connection on this."
She logged on and went straight to her blog post. my new adventure. 15 new comments.
"Perfectsmile says hello," she said over her shoulder, "I told her I was coming to meet you. She says booty is in the eye of the keyholder, whatever that means....and slipperychick says she's very jealous and she wishes she was there too, lol."
Max put the southern comfort down on a coaster next to her and sipped his Jack Daniels, scrolling his eye down the page, seeing familiar photographs and smiley emoticons, plus a few unknown half-faces.
"I think we should look at this one," he said softly, leaning over her. She could feel his breath on her cheek and his chest against her shoulder as he covered her hand with his and slid her finger gently across her mouse pad. He clicked her button and another post sprang up.
Blogs-Annawantsu2-The Way I Feel, The Way You Feel,- my secret passions.
I am a very passionate person. If we were together how would you awaken my secret passions?
Sexyslave2007: Lovely post sweetheart. Hugging you.
Slipperychick: Oooh well now you're asking anna, maybe I could tempt you beyond curious to a little girl on girl action. Or if not i could get earthshaker to come over and get you going for me! ROFLMAO
itsUineed2006: Well annawantsu2, first I would read poetry to you.
Earthsh8ker: Quoting slipperychick. If only I could anna, you know I'd be there for you. Stay happy loved one.
RedRawErection: I�d slam my hug throbbing cock so deep into you and slam it and slamit agan until you beged me to stop. Wanna fuck?
Saturn5: Hi there annawantsu, I love your blog. You write with such heart and passion. I don't think you need me to awaken anything. lol Annawantsu2 replies on 17.11.06: Oh Saturn, but just if I did need you, what then?
Annabel lifted her chin, and found Max looking down at her. She tilted her head back even more and he kissed her, deeper this time, sliding his tongue over hers. She knew the next words on the page by heart: "I would lead you softly down a grass covered path to ecstasy, holding you in my arms like a blanket of love holds the warmth of your body."
She turned towards him and smiled then kissed him again more urgently, arms round his neck. "Then I'd launch my pocket rocket!" He had won her over with his blend of romance and humor, now it was time to see if he could deliver.
"Why don't we take our drinks up to the bedroom?" She said huskily.
He took her arm and she rose with him, picking up the computer with her free hand and gingerly slipping her fingers inside to keep the lid open.
The bedroom was paradise. Deep red curtains, an antique cotton quilt over silky sheets.
"It's time," he said simply, unbuttoning her shirt and pulling his over his head. She lay on the bed as he took off the rest of his clothes, the laptop open in front of her.
Perfectsmile4u: I know how passionate you are anna, that's why you mean so much to me. I truly hope you find a man who can give you every thing you deserve ~jane
Monstercock: ready n waiting when you are babe. Mail me.
Uglygutbucket: Emotion is the fuel of passion annawantsu2, you should know that.
Max lay down beside her and ran his fingers along the inside of her thigh, over her hip and stopped to circle her perfect breast. He bent his head and began to suck softly on the hardened tip of her dark nipple. She flicked her eyes to the screen and reached out with her fingers.
"quoting perfectsmile4u," she typed, "thank you jane, i think i might have already found him."
Max's hands roamed over Annabel's body, lighting little fires of sensation all over her skin then slaking them with his tongue. She began to grow hot with desire, but still her fingers flickered over the keyboard, mirroring his touch on her skin. She typed as he made love to her, answering comments, checking her friend's blogs.
Max pulled her head towards him and fed his stiff penis between her soft red lips, groaning with pleasure as she sucked on his solid pole. He reached down between her legs and rolled her little swollen button desperately, and she gasped with delight. But her eyes never left the screen.
He lifted her hips and moved behind her. She took her weight on her elbows, and he pushed his whole length into her drenched love site in one long slow stroke. Her fingers went wild on the keyboard, blogs and email flashed before her eyes as he surfed her.
Finally his climax overtook him, cum streaming out of him as he heaved back and forward, until exhausted he crashed onto the bed beside her.
Annabel smiled a satisfied smile as she typed her next entry, his cum still running down the inside of her thigh:
Blogs-annawantsu2-The Way I Feel, The Way You Feel-my new adventure part two:
"i stood nervously at the door, hoping i hadn't been wrong about him. i needn�t have worried......
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19
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Distance and Committment
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Posted:Dec 6, 2006 10:45 am
Last Updated:Aug 7, 2007 9:59 am
4722 Views
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This is a subject on which I would really value your insights
A friend of mine told me recently that she thinks I like to have distance in my relationships. That set me thinking. I am usually fairly self aware. It is not often that I need someone else to tell me how I feel about things. But it is true, I have had several not exactly long distance, but certainly separated relationships over the last fifteen years.
Why is this? It seems like coincidence. As we get older the people we meet tend to have made their own lives, they probably have their own places to live. So it is not such a surprise to find one or both parties are happy not living together. And yet I admit I would not be so keen to be committed any more. Once I thought that if I loved someone then I would be happy to commit to them, marry them, live happily ever after.
I realize I don’t feel like that any more. Is it because I am not with the right person? Maybe. Or could it be that once we have seen love fail, we realize that we cannot guarantee the longevity of a relationship by commitment, however genuine that commitment may be. I am not talking about monogamy here, the kind of committment that says "I will not cheat on you." I am talking about the marriage and I will stay committed to you for life kind.
You see I wonder if commitment is sometimes more about fear? We are so scared that the person we love might change, or grow tired of us, or that we might grow tired of them, that we seek to prevent it happening by making a commitment; by promising that we will stay together. I’m not suggesting commitment is consciously about fear, but if our love is strong and lasts then that keeps us together any way. If the love fails, the commitment becomes a burden, and, these days, usually fails too.
So maybe distance helps me to stay away from a situation where I would be asked for commitment. And yet I still feel committed anyway. I have only told five women “I love you” in my life, and I would still cross the world for all of them. If I say “I love you” I mean it, and I stick to it. Of course that’s me, not everyone. But if “I love you” is commitment for me, why the distance?
The suggestion is that I want to be free in case I get a chance to see the Lioness, (long ex love of my life for anyone who doesn’t know.) Maybe, I accept that I am a little fixated with her memory from time to time, but I honestly think that these days I would find it difficult to commit, even to her.
Because as we accumulate experience of love, we learn that sometimes it lasts and sometimes it doesn’t. Failure of relationships can be by mismatch, fault, neglect, carelessness, or just time. And sometimes they last for ever. But we can not know which it is going to be, however good a judge we think we are at the time. So is “commitment” the province of the young? And if it is, what replaces it for those of us who have learned that “commitment” cannot save us from the pain of a broken relationship, but still want to really mean it when we say “I love you.”
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Autumnal Poetry
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Posted:Dec 5, 2006 3:14 pm
Last Updated:Jan 15, 2007 11:37 am
4042 Views
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I wrote this one autumn about twenty five years ago. I didn't think much of it then. Now it's one of my favourites. Did I miss something in my own writing then, or am I seeing something now just because I have known it for so long?
What do you think, any good?
Degrees of Green
Inside, dull, remote,
Looks outside:
Seeing the brittle trees and crispy grass
And rabbit runs and smoke
But not the wind.
Outside, bare and cold,
Flinching against each gust looks in:
Feeling the flickering fire, the still, warm air
The comfort, time to spare,
But not the loneliness
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5
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Apologies - I Went Barking Mad
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Posted:Dec 5, 2006 7:41 am
Last Updated:May 18, 2007 3:04 am
4312 Views
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Many of you will have noticed that I am a highly charged emotional person.
Well yesterday some unwelcome news caught me off guard, and I went into a complete mental spin, and though I don't want to belittle the genuine pain I was feeling, I did slightly over-react fairly spectacularly even for me.
So my apologies for the one or two rather odd blog comments I left for people, and even bigger apologies to the few friends I poured my heart out to. I know I over-reacted but you all know why. Well not you all, but the ones who are reading who know what the hell I'm rambling on about; you all know.
The amazing thing is this: Some of you are incredibly kind hearted sensible people who actually were worried about me and rushed to try to help. Now I have seen this happen elsewhere in blog-land, but I always assumed that was because the people it happened to were incredibly well-loved long standing mega-popular people. But now it has happened to plain old Dreamer, who's always in an emotional stew about everything anyway, and still everyone wanted to help. That's a tribute to the open heartedness of people in blogland.
One or two of you gave me truly perceptive and helpful, understanding advice, you can not imagine how grateful I am. The fact that I am here writing this feeling much better and believing everything will turn out alright is largely down to you.
So thank you guys from the bottom of my heart. And my apologies; next time I'll try to wait for a real disaster before I cry out to you again.
Meanwhile I find I have been nominated! [post 617732]
If only I had one of those washboard six-pack stomach shots on my profile I might stand a chance of getting a vote or two. If only I had a washboard stomach!
Seriously though it's in a great cause, so do make sure you go and vote, even if it's not for me. HUGZ to you all.
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Sex in the Bath
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Posted:Dec 1, 2006 8:16 am
Last Updated:Feb 28, 2007 9:40 am
4361 Views
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I hesitated to inflict another Lioness story on my friends, but then I thought this blog is as much for me as for them, right? And how I remember her is part of who I am, and knowing there are people out there who are reading these memories, and understanding, is really helping me with something that should have been put into perspective a long time ago. So leave your comments, I value them.
None of what follows is made up.
It was early October. Our affair was growing in intensity day by day. I already knew she loved me, and I loved her more than I know how to describe. It was the end of a long hard-working day, but the journey on the underground together already had us intoxicated with each other. We stood by the sliding doors. It was after eight o’clock ‒ we had stopped for a drink with a friend ‒ and most of the commuters had gone home. We were tired and we could have sat down, but we were standing for a reason.
I stood with my back to the glass partition, and The Lioness stood in front of me, leaning in. She had one arm over my shoulder and the other braced against the glass by my side. I had hold of the upright chrome bar with my right hand; my left arm cradled her waist. And we were kissing. The train lurched and bumped like only a tube train can. Every time it slowed she was pressed against me with what felt like double her weight, but the weight shifted and lurched, and she pressed and slackened against me as the driver played with the brakes. It was electric. Her lips were as soft and searching as ever, but her body was hard and rubbed against me in a way I had never felt before. Our movements were controlled by the train, so it felt as if we had become one body, one sense of touch and sensation, one person, exploring ourself. I knew she could feel it too, she ground her hips into me, and I buried my face in her hair breathing her smell deep into my lungs. I can picture her there to this day; tall, elegant; those lightly curled waves of long, sun-highlighted hair framing her face. I can see the clothes she was wearing and remember how that scent worked in me like a drug. When we arrived at her house, there didn’t seem to be anything to do with the evening except to make love.
But first, as she always did, the Lioness wanted to be clean. We went to the bathroom and ran water into the bath. She undressed in front of me, making a big show of unhooking her bra, standing with her legs apart and letting her gorgeous breasts come free. When we had first made love she had been shy about her body. Now she was fully aware of how beautiful she was, and she enjoyed showing herself off to me. She fixed her eyes on mine and stepped into the water, beckoning me to join her.
There was bath essence in the water, giving it that silky smooth softness, with bubbles on the surface. We lay at opposite ends with our legs intertwined and washed ourselves and each other. The soap and the bath oil made her skin feel softer and sexier than ever. Her breasts were streaked with foaming water and if she didn’t already know how turned on I was, she could see now, because the head of my straining cock was standing out through the bubbles. She smiled wickedly, said:
“I know what you want,” seductively and reached forward pulling me towards her. She slipped one knee either side of me and pulled my face to hers, kissing me, thrusting her tongue between my lips. My feet slid to the other end of the bath and then I felt her fingers around the shaft of my cock. She pulled my hips forward and without a pause fed my cock into her pussy. I could feel the hot water lapping around my balls and hips, and the heat of her pussy all around my cock. I pushed forwards and I slid all the way into her. And then I came. Just like that, without any warning. The Lioness was gazing into my eyes like she always did, with a look of amazement on her face.
“Wow,” she said. “That’s beautiful.”
I was almost making an apology, but she was delighted.
“Oh ___,” she whispered my name, “I love it when you come in me, it feels so good.” And she was pulling at my hips, milking all the sperm out of me that she could. I would find out on later occasions that sex in the bath with her would always make me come like that, instantly, as soon as I got inside her.
She reached behind her head, pulling the shower attachment from its cradle. She smiled as I looked at her, turned on the shower and played it over her breasts, mixing the water and feeling the temperature. Then she handed the shower head to me and raised her hips above the water.
Her pussy lips were pulled apart from where I had been inside her, and the bud of her clitoris was showing under its hood.
I turned the spray on her and focussed the strongest jet of water on her clit. She smiled happily again and closed her eyes, arching her back and breathing a huge sigh of contentment. I kept the spray focussed and played it steadily over her clit in a pulsing motion, thrumming her with the water jet. She was completely relaxed except for the effort of keeping her clit above the steadily rising water line and I watched her, spellbound as she drifted from happily content to ready to come. The water was up to the over flow and going from hot to warm when she stiffened and let out a satisfied whimper of orgasm. It was so soft and gentle. There was no thrusting or rubbing, no desperate panting and heaving, just a long slow glow, and she bit her lip gently and looked at me.
“Mmmmm.” She said.
We got out of the bath, dried ourselves and climbed into her bed. I was hard again from watching her come, but this time it wasn’t going to be quick. I started by licking her thighs and her knees, turning her over and kissing all the way up her back, “accidentally” letting my cock bump against her pussy as I nibbled her shoulders and sucked at the soft skin of her throat under her chin. We kissed, gently touching eachother’s tongues and lips. I turned her over again and my mouth picked out a course down her body, stopping to suck on a nipple, gently biting into her firm belly, then down, finding her lips already wet, but wetting them more with long slow strokes of my tongue. She moaned when my lips left her pussy, but arched her back when I bit into a nipple again and then gasped as my cock began to push its way into her. I thrust slowly and deeply into her for a while, then pulled out and moved higher still. She smiled as she guessed what was happening, then opened her mouth and sucked me in between her silky lips, gulping, hoping she could make me come before I decided to move on again, down past her hard, straining nipples, pausing to soothe them with a pinch or two before sliding my cock back inside her, then withdrawing again when I felt myself losing control, building her up again with my tongue on her clit while I regained my hold on myself.
I continued like this for what seemed like wonderful ages, tongue, fingers, cock each taking their turn inside her, each time spending longer and longer revelling in the feeling of my penis sliding all the way into her. I slid both arms under her back and hooked my fingers over her shoulders to pull my self in. I felt as if I wanted a twenty inch cock to get right through into her core. Her hip bones fitted perfectly just inside mine, and when I pushed deep in her they pressed a sensitive place on each side, intensifying the sensation flooding through me.
Every time I thought one of us was going to come I slowed the pace or moved to another position until she was literally begging me;
“____, please, please, I’m so close, oh god you bastard!”
I felt her hand creep in between us and begin rubbing at her clit, but I pushed it away and pinned her arms over her head, kissing and licking at the soft shaved skin under her arms. That started my head spinning and I felt myself starting the climb towards orgasm. Finally I couldn’t wait any longer. I wanted to hold her and watch the ecstasy flushing her beautiful face so I began to slam repeatedly deep into her.
I released her hands, but she was screaming already, “Oh GOD, YES,” and she didn’t need her fingers anymore. I could feel, see, and hear a series of waves of orgasm rippling through her. She pinched at my nipples, the way she always did to make me come and at last I exploded into her, clutching her shoulders again to pull myself in as deep as I possibly could, shaking as we shared a massive orgasm.
I don’t remember how many times I fucked her that night, but it was a lot. Every time one of us thought we might have had enough the other wanted, needed more, and the fire would begin again. It was almost as if we knew that our time together would one day come to an end and we wanted to fill every available minute satisfying our passionate love for each other.
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Blog-Job Challenge
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Posted:Nov 29, 2006 2:27 pm
Last Updated:Feb 28, 2007 9:39 am
4177 Views
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Have you ever given anyone a blog-job?
Funflirty and I came up with the term by accident after she made a typo on her blog.
She has a classic example of one on her post [post 606553]
My definition of a blog-job is a shortish erotic post placed on someone elses blog, written specially for them and based on their fantasies or sexual preferences.
2sweetnwild4u left me one on my Blow-job enquiry post, The Blow Job Enquiry
Sassicat begged me to leave her a Stormlover story on her blog.
So have you ever left one for somebody? If so tell us where so we can go and check it out.
If not I CHALLENGE YOU to go to someone’s blog, someone you find sexy perhaps, or someone you want to tease, (you can leave one here for me if you can’t think of anyone else!) and give them a sexy blog-job. Leave a link to this post blaming me for putting you up to it! Then come back here and leave a link telling us where you’ve posted it so we can all go and read it too.
Friends: Go forth and bloggify!
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10
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Sexy Music
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Posted:Nov 27, 2006 12:20 pm
Last Updated:Feb 28, 2007 9:51 am
4314 Views
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Can I please have my friends and silent readers comments on an important issue!
A what is your favourite song, (I know it's impossible so I will allow you three, and you can come back with more if you want to.)
AND, what music can actually turn you on? This could be mood music, something which you associate with a formative experience (virtually anything by Santana does that for me), or it could be sexy music,EG "love to love you baby" Donna Summer, "french kiss" by lil louis, or "Je T'Aime" by....er....Jane Birkin and....(can't believe I'm having trouble dredging this up....) french bloke, someone put me out of my misery here!
For those interested mine (At this exact moment, could change tomorrow )would be,
Favourites: Waiting for an Alibi - Thin Lizzy
Landslide - Fleetwood Mac
The way we were - Gladys Knight
Sexy: Lady Mamalade - La Belle
Love will lead the way - Mariah Carey
So tell me about something I don't know, especially you silent readers...remember...I can see you've been here!
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16
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In love with Suzy Kolber?
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Posted:Nov 24, 2006 4:16 am
Last Updated:Jan 9, 2007 2:11 pm
4078 Views
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Friends, I need help, I have strong feelings about a TV sports presenter living on the other side of the Atlantic!
Suzy, Suzy, what's your blog handle, are you on the Senior Sizzle somewhere?!!!
She has that soooo cute twang to her voice, I watch the football every week just to get a glimpse of her gorgeous face with that foxy smile.
I want to unwrap the soft layers of wool and fur she wraps herself in when she's at a game somewhere cold like Chicago or Green Bay. Oh God Green Bay are on Monday night next week. I'll go weak at the knees if she interviews Brett Favre; she goes so flirty when she talks to him.
She stands so close I can imagine her standing next to me, her perfume would be drifting into my lungs, she'd look at me with those sparkling eyes.
She's so sweet and soft, I want to fold her in my arms and kiss those freezing cold lips, letting my tongue.......STOP it Dreamer!
IS THIS LOVE? IF NOT, THEN WHAT!?
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Thanksgiving Confusion!
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Posted:Nov 22, 2006 1:54 am
Last Updated:Oct 13, 2022 1:16 pm
4301 Views
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Being English I know nothing at all about Thanksgining, except what I have learned from the movies and pop culture:
1. Everyone tries to get home for Thanksgiving but it snows and the transport system is overloaded. (Trains Planes and Automobiles)
2. If you visit a friend who runs a restaurant and lives in a church for Thanksgiving you will be arrested for littering and have to pick up the garbage in the snow, but you will at least get a Thanksgiving dinner which couldn't be beat. (Alice's restaurant)
3. If you are an NFL football comentator you will go into rhapsodies every year about a dish called a "Turducken," described as a duck inside a chicken inside a turkey.(Al Michaels and John Madden ESPN)
I am posting this on my blog in the hope that some of my transatlantic friends can enlighten me more.
Are there any other facts about Thanksgiving, serious or otherwise, which I should have learned from the movies?
What is thanksgiving really all about?
Is it more important than Christmas?
How do you cook a Turducken?!
Confused of Berkshire.
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6
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That One Special Night
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Posted:Nov 21, 2006 3:30 pm
Last Updated:May 4, 2021 2:30 am
5010 Views
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None of what follows is made up.
It was mid October. My love affair with the Lioness was at its height. We were completely, almost telepathically in love. She touched me as if she could feel what I felt through her fingers. Long slender fingers that could light a flame in my heart by just tapping on the table absent-mindedly; that could make me hard just by touching my arm.
We went on a day trip to the country. She had taught me to ride a , and we went pony trekking across peaceful Dorset fields. My walked like a slug in glue. Just as well since I rode like clothes store dummy. The Lioness rode like a swaying willow, poised, elegant, supremely confident. It seemed to me that her hips moved in the same way as they moved when it was me between her legs instead of the , and I watched her all day, wanting her. She knew. She teased like only a sure thing can. Everyone was looking at her, but her body spoke only to me.
"You are going to have me, but you are going to have to want me first."
I squeezed desperately at my , trying to take my mind of the bulge that was growing in my jodhpurs, and he walked a few more paces. Then, just as I thought I might be incapable of moving my legs by the time we got home, he pricked up his ears. The ride was nearly over and my had smelt his supper.
"They always speed up once you make the turn for the yard," said the guide with a smile, and as he did so his own made a little jump forward. The effect was dramatic. Three horses, mine thankfully not included, bolted for home. Two soon slowed as the guide rode alongside them, but the third, the Lioness's, put back its ears and flew across the field. She was the best rider in the group by far, and had been given the friskiest , she told me later she tried all she knew, but the was out of control. She jumped the first fence, then managed to turn the , hoping it would slow if it was running back towards us. Instead it ran flat out at the fence, then stopped dead, throwing her.
I felt sick. I got off my and ran towards her. The Guide was already there, telling her to keep still. I could do nothing but stand helpless, holding the loose horses' reins. I had never seen someone I loved in an accident. My whole world had changed in a second. Then I heard her voice.
"I'm ok; just winded I think."
I realised I didn't know her quite as well as I had thought because I didn't know what to do. Whether to fuss or not, what did she need? But she must have realised because she looked straight at me.
"It's ok," she said. "I'm always falling off! Not normally as heavily as that though!" And she walked stiffly over, put her hand on my shoulder and took her horses reins from my hand.
We got back to the stables; I can't remember now if we walked or rode. My was quicker if you walked! By the time we got there though she could hardly move and I was beginning to worry again. The guide told me to take her in to the local emergency department just to be sure, so we eased her into the car. We were lucky; it was quiet and they ex-rayed her straight away. The doctor's verdict was a relief; nothing broken, but badly strained and spasming back muscles. Bed rest would be required.
I drove her home as smoothly as possible, but it was clear she wasn't comfortable, and at every corner, every bump in the road she winced. She looked at me once or twice, then she said,
"You were worried weren't you, that's so sweet."
"Yes I was worried ‒ I love you."
"You actually properly love me don't you?" she asked.
"Yes."
We got into the house and I half carried her up the stairs. She wanted a bath, so I helped her undress. I remember she was lying on the bed as I undid her bra and tried to turn her over to unhook the straps. She was laughing and wincing, catching her breath at the same time. I washed her ‒ she couldn't even bend to reach her knees. I had bathed with her before, but even so, sliding my soapy hands over her breasts and thighs was about as sensual as it is possible to imagine. Her skin felt like only soft, wet soapy skin can. She watched my face the whole time, gazing into my eyes. She put her hands behind her head so I could wash her under-arms. She knew how much she was turning me on.
"How are we going to make love?" She asked me as I was washing her feet.
"Don't be stupid, I'm going to sleep on the sofa," I replied.
But she was insistent: "No you are not. I want you in bed with me."
I wanted that too, and she was very persuasive.
I got washed and joined her in her bed, slipping slowly under the duvet, trying not to jog her. I closed my eyes and tried not to think of her beautiful firm breasts and soft flat stomach, lying next to me. Then I felt her fingers close around my already straining shaft.
"Let me suck you," I heard her say. "Just move very slowly and don't rock the bed."
I put a knee each side of her body and with my hands braced against the wall, lowered myself to her. She lay there, lips apart as I slid my cock into her mouth, and felt that heavenly warmth close over me, and her tongue begin its silky rubbing at my sweet spot.
But soon she stopped.
"I'm sorry, I can't, it's hurting my neck," she admitted.
"It's ok sweetheart, I can do without," I told her.
"But I want you to come," she crooned with a smile. "I need you inside me."
Very slowly and gently I moved my legs and she drew her feet up, letting her knees fall either side of my hips. I eased myself forward and rubbed the head of my cock against her pussy lips. She felt hot and wet and I slid in easily, then pulled back very slowly, before easing in a little more. Everything took three times as long as usual. Any sudden movement rocked the bed and she winced in pain, but she wouldn't let me stop. I moved in her incredibly slowly, each withdrawal taking maybe four or five seconds, and each slow thrust the same. The feeling was amazing. Instead of feeling being focussed on the of the head of my penis, every nerve ending began to become super sensitive, straining to feel each tiny moment of friction as her rough velvet sheath held and caressed my shaft.
At first I had to resist the temptation to ram myself into her, but as I continued to slide in slow motion it became hypnotic, intoxicating; intense beyond description. I relaxed and gave myself to what seemed like an endless sea of sensation flooding through my hips and into my belly. Something similar must have been happening to her because she was staring into my eyes with a wild look on her face. Every time I pressed into her she moaned, and as I pulled out she gasped. I realized I was rubbing the head over her G spot ever so slowly every time and she was gradually building an orgasm.
My heart was racing although there was no exertion, and my arms were shaking from keeping my weight off her. I looked down at her perfect breasts and stomach, pressing myself deep into her. Her nipples stood out from tightly puckered skin, and I knew how they must feel ‒ aching like mine. I bent my elbows and took one into my mouth, flicking it against my teeth and biting it gently. She groaned in appreciation and pushed her hips against me, making herself gasp as pain flashed through her back.
Her eyes re-assured me though,
"Don't stop now," she was telling me, and I could feel her using her hips, grinding against me to the limit of the pain she could stand. I hate pain; the thought of it turns me off, but this was a different kind of pain; she was barely aware of it, just touching the edge of it, using it to bring on her orgasm. By then I was in constant ecstasy, almost beyond the level of a normal orgasm, but I felt as if I could go on for ever, just caressing myself endlessly within her. Then she reached up her fingers to my nipples and began to pinch and twist them, and immediately I felt the swell beginning between my legs. I knew she would never have done that if she were not on the point of coming herself; she knew it would push me over the edge. And yet still it was building, everything was in slow motion and the volcano was taking an age to erupt. I realized she was already coming, gasping for breath as the swathes of pleasure swept through her, each one matched by a stab of pain, and still I pushed in slow time; in and out, consumed by the mass of jangling sensation in my cock.
At last I came, an explosion of cum pouring out of me, wave after wave, far longer than usual, and I was dimly aware that she was still coming too, heaving her shoulders despite the pain as the last few pulses ripped through her. I held myself deep inside her as long as I could but my shoulders were on fire from taking my weight for so long, and gradually I subsided on to her, her arms clasped tightly around me. Neither of us spoke. I was still, until finally I softened and slipped out of her, then I gently slid off her and we lay quietly together until sleep washed us away.
In the morning we told each other how it had felt. Her back was looser already, (because of the sex she said!) We tried to replicate this feeling on a number of subsequent occasions. Slow sex was always good for us, but never again was it quite like that amazing, special night.
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Show me the Money
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Posted:Nov 21, 2006 2:43 pm
Last Updated:Dec 5, 2006 3:17 pm
4112 Views
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I had a great day today. I got some useful work done in the morning, then I went to visit a friend I've known for thirty years who is back in the country after five years away. we caught up like she'd never been gone; she has a great sense of humour and we just laughed at the world feeling great. Then I drove home through the low evening sunshine with all the roadside trees red and gold and life seems so much better. We are so lucky.
I am in the middle of writing an erotic memory of sex with The Lioness, but I just had to break off to report to you guys on how happy I am. Some of you know that maybe sometimes I make life a little harder for myself than it needs to be, but just now it's all OK.
Jerry McGuire is showing on TV. I did not put that on my profile list of favourite films....well you can never remember them when you need to can you, but what a brilliant film that is. Even the football scenes are good. Tom Cruise is s decent bloke, Rene Zellwegger is lovable, and Cuba Gooding is just brilliant.
Show Meeee The Monnnaaaayy!
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