A Tizzy

My beautiful metamour, please skip this one.  Thank you!

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I am in a tizzy.  Maybe it’s the sweltering heat.  Maybe it’s all the naughty adventure talk.  Maybe it’s imagining what I’d like to order Yarn Hooker to do.  Maybe it’s reliving recent fun adventures or not having had a taste of the man I just started dating recently.  Maybe it is what is happening between Traveler and I.  Maybe it is our plans together or the plans I’m pursuing alone.  I don’t know.  It’s delicious.

I feel like I am in heat.  I cross my legs at work to feel them press against my pussy.  When I am walking and my rings rub I find the lick delicious.  I am on fire.  We’ve been exhausted and had little time together for weeks until this last weekend and still it is hotter.  This rabbit hole!

I’m planning an adventure…two actually.  One adventure Traveler and I are undertaking together.  One I am undertaking myself.  I have a long held fantasy and I am going for it.  I have to admit I worried about it, worried about hurting this thing with Traveler and I.  It keeps going deeper.  It keeps getting hotter and I have more here than any woman has a right to… right here.  Last night while he worked his magic I felt high with desire.  He played me like a viola.  I was panting.  I could not get my panties off fast enough to let his fingers inside. I could not stop the stream of sex and desire pouring out of my mouth.  I whispered.  I sang.  I breathed “I want you”.

We had spent the night sharing kinky desires and making plans.  We shared fantasies about Yarn Hooker and talk about the fantasy I’m pursuing.  I’d been scared to talk about it too much… scared to trust him saying that he wanted me to pursue it.  I’m so used to men saying they love my sluttiness and turning cold.

I remember my ex husband fucking me from behind in the hotel in Maui, knowing everyone standing right outside the door was listening and could hear, could see our outline, fucking me so hard we were both screaming with passion and then asking if he could cum in my mouth, telling me he wanted to fuck my face and loving it, he cried out while I swallowed every drop, he eagerly talked for days about how amazing it was to finally date a woman who he could be his every passion with.  And I remember the way his voice was cold shortly after our wedding when one night I asked him to cum on my face.  How quickly it all turns.

But it isn’t here.  If anything Traveler is wanting me MORE.  He doesn’t share this kink.  He doesn’t want to go there with me, but he wants me to go there and loves me for being authentically myself.  I think he might love me more for the sincerity here.  More and more and more I feel his want and his need and I’m comforted.  He sees ME.  He knows ME.  And he LOVES ME.

He doesn’t want me because I’m fulfilling a kinky desire for the slutty girl.  (Although I sure do like a slut lover).  He doesn’t want me just today because I am the porn image and he’ll reject me when he loves me, for being too much.  He wants me because he wants me, I think very much like I want him.  He wants to hold me and kiss me and love me and fuck me and be with me.  I can’t tell you what that does to me!

Last night I told him on my way home that I needed him naked.  He laughed and said I’d just had him.  We had fucked so quietly, after a long hot day, exhausted, but needing, trying to avoid the houseguest hearing and I’d come so hard trying not to make a sound that we could hear the splashing.  I’d controlled my breath and my ragged sounds and it had only made it more intense.  When he’d held his breath and bucked beneath me while he came thrashing with the pressure he’d held in, I felt him cum and I’d come again once more, soaking us both and making an audible rhythmic splash.   But I needed him again.

I needed him because I always need him.  I can’t imagine not needing him.  But I needed him too because I have been on a tizzy of desire.  I am overflowing.

We fucked hard last night after hours of teasing talk, urgent and with abandon, saying slutty slutty things, and I’d lost it when he said what he wanted me to do, and even then – right after we finished I could not stop coming and I’d played with my pussy when we’d stopped fucking, coming again all over him. It was amazing to look into each other’s faces then, unable to break a spell.

And wouldn’t you know it.  I’m still in a tizzy.

Again.

Again.

What it is to be loved and wanted and heard.. and still.. loved and wanted.

Simmer

You have me on a boil.  You have my mind racing with deep dark luscious thoughts.  I want to taste your skin with my lips barely brushing you and giving you goose flesh.  I want your salt on my tongue.  I want your hair slipping in my grasp and your name on my breath.  I want to know the color of the flecks in your eyes and trace your jaw with my kisses.  I want your warmth and your scent.  I want your breath.  I want to taste all of you, every inch.

I want your every dip and valley and saddle at my fingertips and on my tongue.  I want to make you laugh with small delight and purr with my heat.  I want you to take in your breath sharply.  I want your muscles to coil to me.  I want you to relax into me, warm to my touch.  I want your thoughts to turn to a hum.  I want you to think in simple small words… yes.. oh.. please.. mmm.. yes.

I want to sync.  I want to roll with you and writhe.  I want you to have to use your arms and your cheek and your leg to slide over my skin because your hands aren’t enough.  And when you are melting, easing into my embrace, I want to sink my teeth into your flesh.  I want you to wonder if the heat you feel is your broken skin.

          I want your heart to speed.  

I want to pull your head back and I want to pause so you can feel the things I want to do to you there.  And I want you to turn over to me and to crave my will.  I want you to want to please me.  I want to make me want to make it hurt just enough to make your blood sing.  I want you to feel your body’s response and I want to make you flush and squirm and swell.  I want you to growl.  I want you to course.  I want you to hear and agree with what I don’t actually say.

Mine.

Mine.

Mine. 

I like It Like That

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I have to tell you that I want you.  I feel my hunger growing.  I’m surprised to find myself coming alive again, and feeling my want uncurling like tendrils of a growing fern.  Even as I’m scared I feel this little… bitty.. stir. 

I don’t know if everything is really different or if anything really changed, but I feel different.  Knowing what I know, I feel like everything is different.  I feel different about me.  I feel different about my situation and I wonder exactly how different I’ll actually be.  I feel like I did after my motorcycle accident.  I was told I was clear to ride and it had been six weeks and I wanted to get back in that saddle and I wanted to feel the wind again, but I was scared of what might happen.  It was different to me.  I knew now in a much more real way my own mortality and fragility.  But I do things I’m afraid of because I’m afraid of them. 

I’m not afraid of you.  I’m not afraid of what we are together because I know that’s good.  I’m actually afraid you won’t want me now.  I feel marked or something, like you’d find me in the scratch and dent.  I’m not like everyone else now.  I’m afraid you’ll be afraid of me.  People are afraid of people like me now. 

I’m afraid that I’ll stroke the side of your face and that I’ll kiss you in the slow calling way I kiss you when I want you, and you’ll recoil.  I’m afraid I’ll run my hands on your spine and pull you against me and your breath won’t catch and you won’t make that sound you make when I kiss the little depression by where your neck meets your body.  I’m afraid your skin will still taste like you and smell like you and I’ll get carried away by my want of you, like I do, and you’ll be stone.  Will you be able to close your eyes and tilt your head back and sigh?  Will my magic fingers work their spells anymore?  Or will you be saying over and over in your mind that I’m different now.  You can’t see it or smell it or taste it or touch it and you would hardly know it’s there.. but I found out and I told you, so can you see me past it? 

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Whatever it is about me that calls to you and gives me the same power over you that you have over me, will it still be there?  Will I be red hair and green eyes and pale pale skin?  Will I be kisses and touches and breath?  Will I be chemistry and love, passion and desire?  Or am I something else to you now?  Am I still the woman you want?  Am I the woman that you love?  Am I still me, to you?

I want you. 

I want everything I have with you.

I want you to kiss me and I want to feel the way your body reacts to that.  I want all of your kisses, the small and light and hard and long.  I want the taste of you on my tongue.  I want us to exchange breath like we do, intense.  I want your eyes and the way they pinpoint me and catch me in your gaze.  I love how you can delight me with your loving gaze and thrill me with the way you study me and watch me react to you.  I love your glee when you make me shudder. I love your mirth when I gasp and say so low.. “oh god.  oh god.. yes”.  I know you love the way I respond to your touch, to the things you say and to your naughty ideas.  I love all the kinds of sex I have with you, but right now I’m craving the one that touches everywhere. It’s mental, emotional, physical, spiritual.  Fuck it if that sounds too woo-woo. 

I love everything about that sex… the touching the taste smell heart mind sweat soul body need want love ache love friction. I love barely touching, electrons dancing in my touch.  I love that I can’t stop kissing you and that you say my name and tell me you love me over and over and over.  I love you on my tongue and my hands and my mind.  I love that very first moment when you enter me and I feel you slllllllllide home as I open to you. Already I am so very wet.  I love it when you tell me you can feel how wet I am.  I love it when you say I’m so warm.  I love you hitting bottom and pushing just  a  little  bit  more.  Ohhhh. 

I grind against you, loving the little ache and wanting more more more.  It’s passion and connection, moving with you, gaining momentum and power.  I am in your eyes and you are in mine.  We are there in that moment, not thinking.  We are breathing and want.  We are writhing, shivering, taking the sharpest little intakes of breath and breathing deeply too, slowly, so slowly.  You lips, your face, your tongue, your fingers, your cock, your hands.. oh god.  I want everything about you.  I revel in everything you do.  I love the way you touch me.  I love the way you fuck me.  I never never want to stop.  I want to move like this for hours, till we fall on the bed in a pool of sweat and satiety.  I want to not know if that is my sweat or yours.  I want my heart as full of you as my pussy.  I want to bathe you in my sex and I want to leave you smelling of me.  I want you to call forth the flood and I want to flow over you.  I want to feel you too.  I want you to come inside me and not leave.  I want to dance my fingers on your skin as I feel you shrink inside me.  I want to feel your cum leaking out of where we are joined.  I want to hold you tight against me as we return to earth and things other than us come into focus. 
I want you.  I want you as I’ve always wanted you.  More.  I want everything about you and I want you to want me too.  Please tell me that hasn’t changed.  Please touch me.  Come closer.  I need to see in your eyes that I’m still me to you.  I need to see that you want me.  I need you to tell me and I need you to show me.  I want you.  I have to tell you that I want you and that hunger is back.. and it’s growing.

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