When He Touches Me
Corporeal Love Liaisons
We are together constantly but it seems only a few, brief snapshot moments where we share that intimacy. When we touch again, he catches my attention with his skin on mine once more; when he touches me, fingers through my hair, hand on my shoulder or round my throat, pulling me by my hips to sit on his lap or his fingers entwining with mine to give me a reassuring squeeze of his love.
There are the flashing, passing smiles and eye contact where we rendez-vous our illicit desires, dreams, fantasies; promises of what will be and shared memories of what has already transpired.
He removes my clothes with such ease yet such care, fingers moving to enter my clothing and come between the material and my flesh, separating me from modesty and raising goosebumps of lust and need.
I kiss him then; my mouth enclosing on his, travelling all over each other’s faces and necks, exploring, nibbling and even aggressively biting the soft flesh there with a violent passion that sends my tumultuous, tired head into a frenzy of rapture and delight.
His fingers travel over me, already knowing their route yet at the same time each touch is new, like the very first. It is a contradiction that I love to experience – he knows me, what I want and what I need, yet makes it fresh, new, exciting. Time after time.
My nipples strain now, needing his hot breath, his mouth enclosed around them, taking them in and drawing the blood painfully to the surface, my involuntray yelp cut off with his hand placed firmly over my mouth, stifling any protests yet also serving to heighten my salacious sensations.
My clit is aching with need, need not even to orgasm but just to feel his flesh pounding against mine, the skin getting hotter and wetter between us with each thrust….
First though I must attend to him… just as I have reached that point where I completely need him inside me, ready to beg, his hands are firm and heavy on my shoulders, pushing me to my knees. I gladly comply, loving the feel, sensation and taste of his cock deep in my mouth.
Not just the taste and feel but the effect on him… my every movement with my tongue travelling over his tip, licking my lips around him to moisten them and my throat swallowing and inviting … sucking in my cheeks to form the perfect seamless vacuum around his shaft, then loosening again to lick up his pre-cum which seeps slowly as he moans above me. Gasping cries to a god neither of us believe in.
My tongue explores his head, round and underneath the collar, teasing, needing, yearning for him. Im moaning on him now, knowing both that it turns him on for me to need his cock so much and that the vibrations travelling through him balls to cock tip will fill him with a need to cum down my throat so great it will be painful to hold back. I take him deeper now…
He has my head grasped with both hands. My hair tightly held within his fingers.. his fists. Clenched with sexual need, caught in the moment. Ramming my head back and forth with an energy so great he is actually fucking my throat. Not just against my throat but through it and beyond.
Pulling head all the way off him just to ram me back down forcefully, violently. His cock slamming into my throat with such force, Im gagging on him, gasping for breath.
I cry. Im moaning and choking, retching… oh god, I’m going to be sick… please…. control… please… mercy I need air….
That fight between giving good head and needing air is one he loves putting to me, feeling me physically forcing myself to choose his cock in my mouth over needing to breathe… until the very point Im about to pass out. He chooses that moment…
He pulls me off him, flips me over when Im at my weakest point, gasping in air which although required, is nowhere near as delicious as his cock in my mouth. I need him back inside me.
Im on my front. My legs yanked apart. A bitten kiss to my neck. A whispered, ‘I love you so much’ in my ear even whilst I’m still suffering, all for him.
His hands on my hips, they pull my arse up, I struggle with my hands. Must put them out. Must raise up. What is happening. My brain struggles to rebalance.
I shake my head and I’m on all fours. Then…
He slams deep into my pussy. Deep… so deep. Violent. Hard. Needing.
I moan painfully, the pain is a combination of the physical feeling and the need. Need for more. The welcome back of him inside me when he has been missing so long.
His hand travels up my back from where it was gripping my hip… to move around to my throat. Holding me like an animal. His other hand moves around from the other hip to my lower back, pushing me down, down onto his cock even deeper still. Fucking me like an animal.
In this position he takes me through every single sensation one can experience during intense, intimate sex. Held at both throat and sex, placed to be used for his pleasure, filling me, fucking me.
I’m snarling almost subconsciously, the instinctive primal, carnal need flowing from my mouth as freely as my juices around his thrusting cock.
His hand moves from my throat up to cover my mouth, switching between gagging my sounds and to cover my nose as well, controlling my air, my life. His other hand is commanding me to remain still, moving from my lower back up to swipe around my long flailing hair, and grasp it within his strong fist in one, practiced, fluid movement. Yanking my head back even whilst I’m gagged and fucked thoroughly….
I think it is at this very moment, when he touches me, just before he cums in me, that I feel most happy, balanced, wanted, needed, beautiful… loved.