Lust inducing mini blind shadows sway in the breeze of the open window as they fit the contour of uninterrupted skin on a naked body. Early morning, 4am, maybe 4:30. he sleeps...so asleep...in the soundless night, soundless all but his deep breathing and my heart pounding at the breathtakingly beautiful nude before me...an animated photograph, this instance seems to linger on in all of it's intensity...and I may at this time be reliving some emotions of the orgasm from last night...and he’s so peaceful...lying there…
But I am not asleep...no…I am not asleep. I sit, unclothed as well, on the opposite side of the room in maroon computer chair, observing…observing the rising and falling of ribs, the soft brown hair, and although the ‘blue like water’ eyes are concealed by fleshy lids, I can still see them in my mind’s eye. Following lines of shadows down the side of his waist with my eyes, I can relive my lips running down that line lying over the inguinal ligament just inside his hip, that one line that leads down to the pubic bone, my favorite part of the male body, that line…and yet he sleeps…motionless and appearingly thoughtless and dream free, he sleeps…
Hot and vibrant sensations shoot from my heart throughout my body into and along the length of every limb as the scene takes me in and then my body prepares itself for round two of his sweet affection…and then, I realize, once again, he is asleep…he…is…asleep. How can he be asleep? Should not he be so filled with passion and sentiment that he can do nothing but lay awake enjoying me as well? So now, I sit, waiting…waiting for him to stir…to realize what he’s missing, to wake and turn and smile at me with perfect teeth and “sweet” hair messy from being intimately touched for hours…and yet he does not move…
And why shouldn’t he be awake…loving me? As if I didn’t deserve the effort it takes to love? And then I realize that it was he that fell asleep first…for I was still awake to hear the slowing patterns of his breath. And it was he who received pleasures on the down low and did not return the favor. It was he that got his first and had to be reminded to finish the job.
Fury inducing mini blind shadows send ripples of indigo devils dancing in the moonlight along curves of skin…chanting softly…songs of malice and luring mantras of temptation…
“But I don’t want to hurt him,” a whisper almost uncontrollably escapes my lips.
And, yet, they are so beautiful. In a ballet of nocturne, tridents tracing luring designs of hostility in the air, they dance along his waist…inviting me to join and tempting every one of my senses to do...then all at once I can smell of aqua di gio and taste warm chocolate in my mouth and they provoke me with every other stimulant of my favoritism inducing a complete symphonic waltz of resentment…
1 comment:
Okay so I was hoked with the first paragraph...but then, even though sensory description is always great, (and I know professors tell you to be as descriptive as possible) it seems like the amount of descriptive words gets in the way of the tone that you set at the first. Still interesting though....I spend more time trying to figure out what the words mean as units instead of following what's going on. Still really good sensory descriptions!
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