All But A Dream

I close my eyes, and there, your eyes follow my lead. The separation between our bodies exists not, as our lips meet for the first time. Petals from a dozen roses lie sporadically throughout, with countless candles emitting light in what’d otherwise be a dark room. A melody of rhythms parades my sweetest expressions in the backdrop, where, here, in a moment so perfect–with a passion so real and true, I know this is all but a dream.

Because, in a woman crafted so flawlessly, easily I mistook our first encounter as such: for time held no relevance. My breath no longer was waiting at the crown of my lungs. And never had I felt anything so electrifying or euphoric as what I did when you entered my life. I encountered something so enchanting and magical–more beautiful than anything I could’ve ever dreamed to be real. How was I to not believe it was all a dream?

Though, here, our lips continue to mingle, as the proof, in reality, is sweet, with your lips tasting of luscious strawberries and cream. The closeness and warmth from our bodies have encouraged our scents to combine, creating an intoxication of seduction and mystery, provoking imagination while daring our wildest temptations to explore further. And heavily, I hear you breathe as your heart races against mine. Still, our lips become acquainted, though, slowly I proceed to back you against the wall.

And since your introduction, never could I have envisioned such a moment as this. Albeit, I’ve dreamed of such an account many times. It’s the way you move, the way you talk, and currently, the way you’re biting your lower lip, embracing as mine explore new territories around your neck. You grab my belt and pull me in against your frame. I lift you immediately off the ground securing you against the wall where your legs wrap around my torso.

And it is instinctive, impossible by any concept of simple human nature to resist such an urge–such an attraction. Your pheromones already have enticed me to such measures, as primal, you are all that I’m after. The weight of your body challenges my core none. I lift you higher and place my lips near the lower region of your mid-drift. I kiss upon your left inner thigh, and you shiver in exhilaration. Your legs quiver, and lightly you moan, where, here, you begin to pull your shirt over your head, with the first article of clothing that falls to the ground.

In nature, you find the most phenomenal of beauty, but there is no equivalent to the nature of yours, with the scintillating landscapes of your terrain having been exposed. There is no wonder in the world more wonderful than what I hold here, as your hips gyrate, grinding to and fro from my chest and abs. You pull, stretching the collar of my shirt. I turn around and hurl you onto a pile of pillows on the bed. Quickly, I rip the shirt over my head and stand over you, primal, staring like I haven’t feasted in an eternity. 

Sweet melodies persist, seemingly orchestrating direction for the rhythm of each flame–exposing as sweat lies glistened upon your silhouette. The temperature climbs with candles that proceed to burn–burn like the fire within your eyes. In relief, with no additional time to be squandered, I pounce upon you and begin to softly bite upon your lower neck, here, as I aid in the removal of your bra. 

You reach for my belt, where, without warning, firmly, I seize your neck and gently kiss your lips once. I pedal backward to my feet, grasp you by your ankles, and insolently tug you toward me. With one hand, I clasp both of your ankles at shoulder height as the other tears your unmentionables off. I drop your body carelessly and cast your garments against the wall. With a fire blazing beneath a thousand desires in your eyes, I kneel upon both knees at the side of the bed and forcefully pull you in closer.

Now, your body is my canvas, as sex is a form of art. So let my expressions of intimacy be detailed by every stroke of my tongue. Let your oils be the substance in which I paint and perform this masterpiece as time, here, will hurry us none. Applaud. I yearn to hear you scream, squealing at the climax of your decibels! And stop, we cannot until your legs are paralyzed, and your body is sent afar in a whirl of rapture. We cannot cease until I savor all of your fruits and cream.

Though your imploring persists, with a new utensil in which you desire for the completion of this magnum opus. I stand to my feet, watching as you uncontrollably tremble upon the sheets. Casually, I unbuckle my belt, lecherously staring into your eyes the whole time, anticipating your expression when all is revealed. And it is in your eyes: excited, full of awe, though anxious and scared. I can tell you’re wondering, how will that all fit inside? But worry gently, for unabashed, I’ll be the one to guide you in expanding your limits. 

Lay upon your back and bite onto these sheets. Here, as I enter and discover the greatest of your treasures, pain will be induced, but the best intimacy always hurts–always! So whimper a melody, whimper as you surrender all that you have. Slowly, I stretch what you knew not, as deeply the wettest of your warmth cries of passion. Your nails tear into my skin. With no more can you take, the deeper I find–the harder I thrust. And you scream at the top of your lungs! 

A droplet of blood falls upon the sheets from the markings of your delight. Aggressively, I clutch onto your neck, compressing as your body, again, begins to tremble. Clenching as I thrust harder. Squeezing as I lay a kiss upon your lips–squeezing where, here, I open my eyes, and in a bed drenched in sweat, I awake alone–awake as all but a dream is still all a dream.

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