A Tiny Flame

The amazement I still have with my body translates to this desire to always keep sex and sensuality fresh and tempting in my mind.

Can you read someone's mind? How about their curves?
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I write fantasy in my bedroom, the lights dulled and my lips quietly mouthing the dirty words that my feminine charm forbids me to utter out loud, my pen writing out a smooth scripture upon the page of my desires. I play with lovers (now only with my boyfriend) with an amazed wonder to find a fresh beat of light behind every sensation and burst of friction that my body joyfully succumbs to. I touch myself with the unbridled curiosity of a newly be-chested adolescent because it makes it more fun,

"Look here what is this...oh my....MMMMM."

Kind of like that.

I love to capture the different curves of my body on my camera and play with light and color and background, sensuality. I sink into my bed and observe my own curves, how ever imperfect or how ever "just me" they are. I'm trying very hard to fall back in love with my body, to find myself in love with the pieces of me, but all put together.

When I touch myself in the quiet hideaway that is my room and my body presses into the silky black sheets I make a map and travel route of an imaginary tongue from place to place on my body.

Sometimes my invisible lover starts at my ear lobe, traveling down my neck to bite me, to lick me and to travel down my chest to the swell of my breasts and pressing smooth lips against their flesh, my body falls to a moan. I can feel it travel down between my breasts, over my ribcage and down the little path to my pierced navel, kissing horizontally over each hips before dipping down to kiss the tops of each thigh, the lips becoming wet and more intense with each passing second.

I can day-dream myself into believing that the pleasuring mouth travels down over each knee and to the instep of my foot, kissing my tattoo there and licking the ball of my foot before sucking a small toe into the cavern of a hot and silky mouth.

I can feel my body splay as my fingers slide over my clit and I can just imagine bright and passionate eyes peering at me as strong hands gently hold my heel as a sensual mouth pleasures my small and curvaceous foot.

When my passion inflates my fingers slide to my mouth and my tongue lazily flicks over my fingertips, the receptive skin feeling there the silk of my tongue. I want to believe that there is so much that I can learn about myself and about other's bodies and minds from sexual contact, from possessing them and letting them possess me.

My more perverted dreams are of being taken so roughly, so passionately and so unyieldingly that when my will has been slightly broken and my orgasm has come so strong so that at the end I'll cuddle slowly like a baby and wrap my small hand around the wrist of my lover in an unspoken gesture of submission and gratitude.

I love when Gadget takes me from behind, his stomach pressing at me and curving over my back as he holds my breasts in both hands, whispering to me of my beauty and my wetness, his pleasure at my feminine graces.

The closeness pushes at me until I can feel his flesh like my own pressed so tight to my back as I bend, my feet touching as my knees support us both on the bed's soft pillowtop. I can feel him so deep inside of me and though I feel like it should last forever my mind is bent out of nature and it makes me crave the end so that I can look back and understand what intimacy is.

I always ever wanted that closeness, that drive and that spirit of longing to be in every facet of my life, if not just in my sexual one.

And I'm feeling that as each day passes, that I'm realizing that sex isn't just a game to be played and won, its a closeness, its a feeling and it makes me feel alive.

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[If you have seen the seeming "mistake" in the date, it isnt so, I just wont be around a computer for Monday's post so therefore I am posting it early....hows that for responsiblity? -la petite]