She strips down unceremoniously. She takes her pants off, and then her shirt. Lies back on the bed, waiting, wearing a bra and panties that must be three or four years old. We’ve been together long enough that we’ve become this way. The blood has begun to slide down the interior of my cock. It’s not an urgent feeling. Not yet. My balls generate a light surge of sperm, which I can feel as though it’s coming from underneath me.
But I’m not getting hard. Not yet.
I won’t get erect until I have what I really want: her juices all over my face. It begins with the smell. Her scent has become the most powerful substance on earth. I kiss her lightly on the mouth and position myself above her. But in my mind, I’m already moving down.
I run my fingers over her skin. Reach around and unclasp the bra. Her breasts are free, she lies back again. They rest on her chest. I stroke them lightly. Run my tongue over them. Yet this is preamble; I’m ready now to begin the feast. I pull her panties from her, she shakes her hips with a slight wiggle to help.
And there it is: the object of my desire. I don’t know if she realizes how beautiful she is in this moment. Her vulva is pink and beginning to bloom red.
Her pussy has personality. It has power.
Oh-so-gently I bring my tongue to the hood. I raise it, my tongue erect. I let the middle of my tongue engage her. Slowly, waiting for what will happen next. And there it is… Slick, warm nectar. She moans, but I know it’s only the first throes of release — inhibition beginning to fall aside.
Now my cock is alert. Now we’ve arrived where we should be. I stroke — delicately — the interior of the lips. Red, red, red. These lips speak to me. I kiss them, and I drink her taste in.
The smell is pungent and permeates the room. It is the smell of life, of urgency, and it is a warm smell more powerful than that of any fire.
I move my face forward. There are so many things I can do to please her at this moment… And I will do them, eventually. First I must take in this moment, as the slickness of her insides now embrace my mouth, my cheeks, my nose. I nestle my face there for less than a second, not wanting to get too lost in it. I let the warmth run over my right cheek.
For a moment now we will have the greatest kiss. I run my tongue inside her, coaxing more of her onto me. My hands reach out, palms on the bed. I lift myself to her face and slide my tongue into her mouth. She kisses me back, also drinking it in. We are reaching a frenzy of yearning. Our faces rub along each other, cheek to cheek. The smell is that of everything we want. She moans. Hungry. At this moment that taste is the divine.
Raymond Burns is an esoteric indie film professional living in Los Angeles. Raymond is a social animal who loves every inch of the female form. He comprehensively appreciates the quiet aftermath of a woman’s orgasm. He hangs a bit to the left.
Image courtesy of the Sex and the 405 archives.