Estrogensensual

My partner was shaking her head when I walked in, all disheveled and fashionably late. By the disgusted look on her face, I could tell that she automatically knew what had kept me, or maybe it was the way I was walking. My lady parts were so fat and happy that it felt like I was stowing my own carry-on between my legs. I’m sure that I had that high pro glow too and a huge shit eating grin to boot. She remarked, “You are incorrigible,” as her own antipathy turned to a covetous smile. I started to apologize, but she put her finger to my lips to shush me before I could, and I instinctively wrapped my lips around her finger and sucked it into my mouth, surprised that she allowed it. After a few times, she snapped out of it and shook her head clear and withdrew her finger, and said, “Okay tell me everything”. Before I got a word out, she asked if I was stoned, and, as if rhetorical, she exclaimed, “not fair” and rushed me to continue. I fanned my skirt because my pussy was still hot a...

I can already anticipate his touch before he does and can still feel it long after he has. I feel the warm electric pulses where his fingers traced along my skin and can barely contain while waiting for them to continue further along their paths. They aren’t always initially meant to be erotic or intentionally sensuous and leading but in my mind they are nonetheless. If it isn’t his touch, it is the bombardment of pheromones that come like a storm front and hang around like a fog and cause me to lose my mind and way as if I had flown right into the Bermuda Triangle with no will to escape. It is his aura that triggers so many emotions and if you can’t recognize love, it can have an equally dangerous effect and for some less enlightened be misconstrued as arrogance, indifference or threatening. But once you know him there could never be any doubt. It is bigger than him, and this world is so much in desperate need for it to be free that just being around him makes me weak in the kn...

My alarm goes off at six and I turn it off and turn over for about ten more minutes before I have to get up. I listen to my beautiful wife purr until my back forces me to try and sit up to get up and when I’m finally able to stand I use the light from my phone to maneuver into our closet to find some work clothes and then into the bathroom to begin my morning rituals. As I’m tiptoeing around I hear my wife mumble something and I creep over to the bedside to see if she were awake or just talking in her sleep. When I get to the side of the bed she says that I look like Santa Claus the way I’m sneaking around the house and she throws back her covers to invite me back into bed as she reaches into my sack of toys to find out what I brought her. I get the Santa reference immediately because I’ve been growing my beard out and I actually do look more Nordic than North Pole but tis the season so an emaciated Santa works too, especially the way I was sneaking around trying to be q...