We kiss, gently at first. Your lips rove, kindling up little fires here and there and all around, down along my neck, and back to my softened lips. You break the kiss, take me by the hand, and lead me to the bed. Smiling, you begin to undress me slowly, caring – letting me know that escape will not be an option tonight.
This is the moment you have promised me. You have been demanding that I resist my desire. You have promised me a wonderful opening lecture in your Tantric class: the best lingam massage of my life. You urge me to relax into the sensation, and you remind me, periodically, to pay attention to my breathing, to bring the sensation into the spiral of life. I close my eyes and revel in the sensation.
You begin to caress my body with your fingertips, beginning at the top of my head, relaxing my naked flesh. You remind me to pay attention to inhalation and exhalation. You reach for my face and you begin to caress my lips with your fingertips, watching the quivering of my lips in anticipation. I open my mouth to suck your fingers. You move on, tracing the lines on my neck and throat, playing with the aspects of my ears. You explore my shoulders, the base of my throat and you continue your exploration of my body. You walk your fingers down my arms, touching all of the ticklish parts, particularly along my ribs, the inside of my loins, and the palm of my hands.
You return to my chest and begin an excruciatingly slow exploration of my chest and sides. You dip your head slowly and take my nipples into your mouth…teasing them gently, making them taut. You continue down my torso, only to return to my nipples again. I gasp as you take them into your mouth with force, sucking on them with hunger, drawing from them my life force. My breathing quickens and you stop – and you remind me: breathe slowly.
You continue to explore my torso, now with fingers and your mouth, lapping me with your tongue, tasting me. You touch my hips and I buck reflexively. You trace the outer aspect of my legs, and you reach for my feet and begin to slowly massage them, taking them into your mouth and sucking my toes, licking the arch and stroking the balls of my feet. You continue up the inside line of my legs, reaching my knees, stretching my legs out and holding them to stroke behind my knees.
You take your time, gradually teasing me, knowing what I want, knowing I will have it soon, hoping I can understand the need to restore sensual sensation to every cell in my body, waking me up to the sexuality in every muscle.
You nip the inside of my thighs, lick them, kissing them. You want to touch me, lick me, suck me, but you wait. You touch lightly with wetted finger the tip of my hard, swollen cock, delighting in its slick texture, and then you run your hand down to my balls. You circle and corral them in the palm of your hands, pressing, exploring, not claiming ownership. I feel so ready to pump, so ready to cum.
Then, it truly begins – the delightful experience of lingam massage. You explore every little bump and wrinkle and vein and crevice, looking for new experiences for me. You listen to me breathe, and I gasp as you massage me with tongue, lips, fingers.
You take my balls into my mouth, sucking them, pulling them down towards your throat, teasing them with my little nips. Releasing them, you plunge your mouth down on my cock, taking me in completely. I respond with vigor, fucking your mouth, fucking your throat. Just as I reach the edge, you release me.
You suck me from tip to base, taking me in. I beg for release, once, twice, three times. You smile, relax your grip on me and remind me: breathe, slowly, in and out, enjoy this; it never has to end. You keep grasping my cock gently, between your thumb and middle finger, and you just slide up and down me, taking me almost to the tipping point, and then letting the charge in me subside a bit. I feel like a river swollen in floodtide, but the levee holds. The pleasure is agonizingly beautiful. At times I feel the touch of a feather, drawn across the underside of my cock’s head, as if you were playing my cock with the feather like a violin with a bow, could make me come. The impulse to thrust, to leap off the table and take you from behind, doggie-style, burying my cock deep into your cunt with unimpeded power, runs through my body, my mind, my imagination. I am at the mercy of your touch, and I love it. I want to cry out and you stifle my desire to cry with a kiss, and I plead to you with my lips, my tongue: Take me… all the way…
But I break the contact of the kiss. Don’t take me, not yet; the torture of the pleasure is too beautiful.
But, finally, I can’t stand it anymore and I begin to buck. You then suck me hard, stroking me at the same time, reaching for my balls and drawing them up, your finger in my ass, stroking, humming, waiting, watching. I explode with the roar of a lion.
When I am spent, you soothe me, stroking my hot, sweaty skin, comforting me as I try to find my body again, fitting this experience into the now expanded space of myself.
When I am spent, you soothe me, stroking my hot, sweaty skin, comforting me as I try to find my body again, fitting this experience into the now expanded space of myself.
**This text does not reflect, necessarily, ApartadoX opinion.
