Sometimes, I close my eyes and imagine a life where you, my beautiful lover, come home around 6. Dinner is ready or almost and you greet me in the kitchen. I’m happy to see you and you’re happy to see me.
WARNING: This post contains graphic nudity, so 18+ only please.
He only loves me for my lips. I know it, even if He says different. • It’s the way He looks at my mouth when I speak, and the hunger when we kiss that has me convinced. He fell in love with my mouth, but not for the intellect conveyed... no, but for the voluptuous beauty and softness on full display.
Slide my chair in front of yours, a coffee table in between. My legs stretched out gently brush the side of your pants.
Loving again doesn’t surprise me, but loving you, as deeply as I do, has.
Samantha put the cool glass of bubbling champagne to her full painted lips and drank. She closed her dark eyes as she swallowed, trying to savor every drop. She took a deep breath to calm herself knowing what was to come.
Blink once, what to do? Right swiped for those eyes. Mind open, golden rule, you took me by surprise.
The private cab Sir had called moved us slowly and smoothly through the city streets of London. With the privacy partition, it felt like we were very much alone, Sir and I.
Our table sat in a dimly lit corner of a side alcove off the main dining room in an aging Italian restaurant. We were fairly isolated from the rest of the diners, just the way Sir likes it. I pressed a glass of cool prosecco to my lips and drank in the smooth sparkling wine. As I swallowed, I felt the coolness in my throat followed by a heat rising to my cheeks. I could feel his eyes on me. I returned the glass to the table and slowly raised my eyes to meet his steel-gray stare. His gaze was amiable but intense. He was studying me. I felt my lips drying up from the drink, and ran my tongue over them to bring back some moisture. I smiled, he did not.
Warning: Contains explicit language and graphic sexual references. Only for readers 18+.