Nov 272011

Kiss on the browAs though my libido were a light switch, my body was toggled on. I spent days in heat, every glance loaded with lust, every brush of flesh or fabric against my skin a direct line to my cunt, and always ready to fuck. I have some restraint. Normal life carries on. Family obligations must be met. Work needs doing. The trick is to bank the heat without letting it consume everything. Then, when the time is right, let it all flare up.

It’s not an easy thing for me, letting go. It doesn’t feel safe to be wildly sexual. What if I lose control and make terrible choices? I’m already a sexual person, but letting the heat of my lust make my choices is so taboo. I want the freedom of wanton desire, if I can do it safely. What if I just let go…

breastIt’s morning. I stumble into my office wearing only a tank top and panties. Harold stands up to hug me. The hug becomes a passionate kiss. My hands caress his cock through his jeans. He gets hard. We continue to kiss as his hands roam from my breasts to my pussy. He rubs my clit and slides a finger or two inside me. I come, but it’s not enough. I bend over his desk chair and he frees his cock from the jeans zipper. We fuck, him pounding into me. We stop after a few minutes. I don’t want him to orgasm yet.

I shower, letting the water flow over me. I soap up, feeling the slipperiness across my arms, breasts, belly, and legs. When I am all clean, I switch the spray to the hardest setting and direct it to my nipples. That’s good, but I need more. I move the water to my pubic hair. The jet hits my clit and I jump. Within minutes, I’ve come again.

Making outI’m getting dressed and I ask Harold whether I should wear pants or a skirt. I point out that if I wear a skirt, he could have easy access to my cunt. He says that if I wear a skirt, it better be short and I’d better not wear underwear. I put on the skirt, but I wear underwear too. We go about our day, teasing each other and enjoying the sensual pleasures. We kiss often. He makes another comment about my panties. I take them off on the spot and shove them in his pocket.

Harold and I cook. Although we have different tasks, we manage to intersect frequently. His hands dart under my skirt. I’m so turned on. Everything I do feels sexy. I feel loved and owned. It’s so slutty to wear this skirt without underwear. I feel dirty in the best possible way. It’s all good. I love Harold’s hands all over me.

Short skirtWe’re in bed. I know Harold is tired. I don’t want to bother him, but I am full of longing. I say something to him and he is instantly at my side. We are attracted like two magnets. We click together. He is all over me. His hands cover my neck and I arch my chest into him. I am so his. I love his nails down my back, fingertips on my collarbone, pressing my body into the bed. It’s not about orgasms, it’s all about sensation and desire. I’ve never wanted him so much. We make love in the darkness. Eventually, we fuck and we come.

The next day is much the same. We have hours together, in which we repeatedly come up to the edge and retreat again. He reads erotica to me as I lie on his chest, naked and turned on. The words come alive. He spanks me, makes me beg for each firm strike. We kiss long and slow. I get lost in that kiss. Harold rigs a harness to hold a dildo inside me, then puts a finger in my asshole and a vibrator against my clit until the orgasm explodes out of me. I return the favor, making him come with two fingers on his prostate. We spend the day pleasuring each other.

ReadyThe next day I am less on fire. We make love in a sweet and lazy way in the shower. The intensity is gone. In it’s place is love and a sense of well being. I still feel sexy, but the heat is spent. It’s all warm and cozy, not flaming. We’ve ridden out the conflagration. I have what I’ve wanted. I’m learning to let go and let my lust drive. There’s a lot of joy in being in heat!

  • Hardin Reddy

    Totally beautiful . . . how I want my life to be.  And it is, most of the time.