What I want to do to you. . . .
I want to fill your arms with my body. I want to place your firm hands on each of my large round breasts. I want to feel your lips slowly caress the curve and the little hairs on the back of my neck. I want to turn around slowly and envelope your bottom lip with the plumpness of my own lips. I want to place my hands on either side of your torso and slide them down over your hips, letting one slip around the front until I can feel your rising passion. Then I will move my hands up to the edge of your pants, caressing the rim, awaking your flesh, teasing your mind. Slowly I grasp the handle of your zipper, then change my mind, dropping to my knees. My lips enfold a corner of the cloth, my teeth hungerly gripping as your pants come unbuttoned. Agonizingly, I move down one knotch at a time, unaware of the tortured pleasure showing in the wrinkles of your forehead. I take your solid sex from it's dwelling within your boxers, rubbing the silken texture before licking it from top to base and back to the top again and again. Enclosing it's tip, stabbing my tounge at the tiny hole as it releases a single drop of clear sweet liquid. I take in the cock until I can feel it in the moist tissue at the back of my thoat. I suckle at it in delirum as exquisite moans escape the lips you hold together. My hands curve around the base of your manhood stroking in rhythm with the undulations you can not hold back. Your mouth opens releasing louder moans, they come faster and louder as I begin to feel your pulse race through me, to my genitals, gently throbbing. I feel the tingle of the connection between us as it culminates and I taste your salty hot swimming liquid.