The Gift is in the Giving

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 knees.

When those fingers do proceed along that hopeful path, I picture my clothes melting off me as I struggle with my native tongue after my mind has gone. I try to pretend that I haven’t lost all control and I’m thankful that he is oblivious to his enchanting hold. He so doesn’t know the power he yields and I think that is the reason his magic is so strong. But when that humble mind is focused on what it wants and I see myself in the mirrors of his big bedroom blues, I’m blissfully lost and don’t come to my senses again until his beautiful wand breaks into me and I look down between our bodies to find him over and in me as I feel his hips undulating between my soft thighs. Being brought so intensely back to life, my eyes move up his rolling tight abs and over his thick manly chest to his flexing shoulders and traps until I am thankfully detoured. As my hands wrap around his thick biceps and my fingers trace the bulging veins in his flexing arms back up to his shoulders, I finally dare to look him in the face again. He is lost in his element and it is thankfully me, and I can only picture some Barry White songs running through his head as his jaw flexes and I fall again into the abyss of those bedroom blues that are blanketed by these ridiculously long dark lashes. He is tapped into more than just my soul as we move as one and he leads us in the dance all over our mattress. I’m in and out consciousness it seems when he asks if he can taste me and my body betrays my mind and nods yes while I’m already missing him inside me and over me. He gives me a thankful kiss on my quivering lips before he withdraws his magic wand and continues those kisses down my dancing body to my other wanting lips.

I miss him and don’t know what to do with myself because he needs no instruction. He butterflies my thighs and it literally seems that he inhales my mind from between my legs as he first inhales the bouquet of my blossoming flower before I feel his lips tugging at my petals. He dips down to drink from my honey pot like a greedy bear as his thumb slips just inside me like a spout. I’m only kept semi cognitive by his hungry moans as his arm wraps around my less than al-dente thigh and his fingers pull me taut leaving my growing clit center stage and in the beam of the spotlight. It seems like an eternity as he watches my clit grow, shine and dance in her solo ballerina recital and I can’t help but want to watch myself as I pull pillows under my head and shoulders for a better view. It is like I’m peeping in on myself as I can just see as his tongue comes out and joins my clit in her dance. It is as if their dance was in slow motion as they twirl, leap and dip and I find I have to tear my gaze away at times just to be able to take a breath. The dance got so hot that I forgot my native tongue again and could only wonder if he knew what he had done but his happy sounds as he greedily drank proved that he already knew. I felt as if the hydrant was just cracked open as my juices poured out onto his face before he raised between my useless thighs, milked his drenched goatee of his spoils and used them to coat his thickly veined cock. I watched his strong hand squeeze around his thick glistening manhood as he stroked it just over my still pulsing pussy while waiting for me to come down. I was suddenly lost again as he swung his conducting baton between my thighs. His cock seemed as threateningly large in his grip as it did long as it traveled the length of his cock and it was mesmerizing until he slapped it against my clit to bring me to. When I looked up again into his face to see his smile deepen his dimples as it reached all the way to his loving eyes and he asked if I were okay, my mouth and my mind were on the same page when my head nodded yes to proceed.

Each and every time he breaks me is like the first time and it seems like we’ve been doing it for blissful lifetimes. Every time it closes the loop in our infinity and it feels like it brings us closer to our oneness as it shatters the misconceptions of time. The problem with that reality is that it is too much for our frail bodies to contain and we can only handle being in that state for limited amount of time while we inhabits these vessels. It can’t be any wonder though why the spirit chooses to be trapped in these vessels when love is so perfectly expressed. My body is usually the first to tap out and I know that it is the only way to go because that is how he get his. His happiness comes from the giving and by me giving him what he needs, I guess my happiness is also defined by the giving. On occasion we both get to arrive or go together and when that happens there is no Earthly way possible to express it adequately but the practice getting there is nearly equally divine. I so get why he loves to deliver and when I’m the one fortunate enough to watch him go, even if without me, it is so easy to understand what is meant by the meaning of “The Gift is in the Giving”. To see him actually lose himself in the love and to watch that process in him is also so gratifying. I ache to stay vigilant when I see it happening as I totally immerse myself in him and find myself cheering him on. I’ll fake my own just to push him over the edge because I so desperately want to see it happen. It is such a beautiful sight that can’t really be appreciated as much when you are also in it so I give it all to him and enjoy the show. I watch him go and it is like watching it from the side lines. I see him over me, all his muscles rippling in the effort and made more define by the sheen of sweat on his body. I map all the veins in his body as they bulge to provide the much needed oxygen to all his working muscles. I watch his beautiful face go from determined to submissive as his brows are the ones frowning for a change, and he is the one gasping for breath as his eyes confess that there is no turning back. I feel it happening too as his undulating speeds to a blur and I feel his ass turn to marble as his abs and shoulders burn and the veins in his neck grow like the mercury in a thermometer until they reach his head and the beautiful music starts to escape his mouth like the steam from the kettle. His cries build to a majestic roar and his whole body turns hard as a statue before seemingly to go boneless and falling on top of me. I don’t know if I’m ever happier than when that happens, and as his heart beats through his chest into mine, I truly know that the real gift is in the giving. 

Happy Hump Day!!!