To imagine something is not the same as to experience it.
Imaginings, though vivid, are like taking a photograph of a
painting -- all texture and depth are lost.
Prior to that night, all I had were imaginations.
Imaginings, though vivid, are like taking a photograph of a
painting -- all texture and depth are lost.
Prior to that night, all I had were imaginations.
A knock on the back door interrupted my reading. I opened the door, wondering who it could be at such a late hour and there you were – the object of months of sexual fantasy – standing in my doorway in faded jeans, a casual button down shirt and wearing a tired, pleading look on your face. I opened the door wider and that was all the permission you needed...
You strode into my living room, pulling me down with you onto the couch. Everything seemed to flow so naturally – my hand in your hair, stroking your face, your side, removing your shirt and slowly exploring you with eyes and fingers, gently stroking every inch of exposed flesh, noting and delighting in your reactions, catching each chill under my fingertips and hearing each sigh and purr. And yet, there was a part of me that was unsure of what you wanted. I don't know what made me squeeze your nipple between my fingers the first time – desire, curiosity, provocation – but your response was so delightful. In so many ways I felt like a child experiencing things for the first time.
There was, somehow a sense of awe and wonderment in the room. And when you touched me, when your fingers slid into my shirt, never have I desired or anticipated a touch more, never has anything been more welcome as when you took my nipple between your teeth. The immediacy of the pain made me gasp, but my body was flooded with warmth. When you removed my shirt and examined me – touching, pinching, biting, slapping, staring – I have never felt more beautiful. With each gasp you elicited from me with your stinging slaps I became more malleable, as if some shell that surrounds me was cracking and light was pouring through.
And then you allowed me to unfasten your jeans, to touch you, I wanted more than anything to taste you, but somehow I needed your permission. And then you kissed me and slid your hand into my jeans discovering me with touch only, feeling my wetness, tasting your fingers and then putting them in my mouth, sharing your discovery. I was so pliably yours. Anything you had asked you would have received. My own desires, although still an audible hum, became secondary to whatever you might wish. When you placed your hand in my hair and guided me down, allowing me my first taste of you, the rightness of it was like a soft warm rainfall washing away any uncertainty.
And then you stood, naked before me, removing my clothes. I could practically feel the touch of your eyes as they ran over my body and for once I did not feel self-conscious or ashamed. I felt as if I was just as I should be. The timber of your voice, the softness, the tenderness of it caressed me as you asked me to turn around and bend over. I had a fleeting moment of something – anxiety, fear, panic – but the cracking sound of your hand on my flesh obliterated it. All I could do was feel. My body broke out in chills as you entered me with your fingers and used them to anchor me as you tested me. I found myself squirming against you, against your slaps, but craving each one more than the last.
When you told me to turn around and kneel in front of you I did so with trembling anticipation. You allowed me to discover you I began to explore your body, with lips, tongue and teeth, tentatively at first, because I was unsure what was being asked of me until I realized that what you wanted was for me to freely explore you. And so I did…taking you into my mouth, tasting you, filling myself with the scent of your skin. I can hardly describe my reaction when, with you in my mouth, I pinched your nipple and your hand swiftly came to the back of my head, pushing me farther down onto you, gagging me a little. It was incredible. I wanted to do it again and again. I gagged and you said good girl and my entire body was molten.
You kept your hand on the back of my head, moving me faster, giving me no choice as to what would happen. You began to cum in my mouth. Nothing has ever been so anticipated, so wanted, so deliciously engulfing as that moment…
I never did figure out how you found out where I lived or why you chose me, but the ghost of that night will always be with me...always.
Hear the audio at: http://evaamoretales.tumblr.com/post/53233792799/midnight-visitation-find-the-original-story-at
