Monday, June 25, 2012

Possibly Maybe (The Last Part)

Mon petit Vulcan
You're eruptions and disasters
I keep calm
Admiring your lava
I keep calm

She loves it when she feels the muscles in his legs tighten.

She loves it when he is rock hard and at her mercy.

And he breaks eye contact because he cannot stop his eyes from rolling back.

He lets out a hiss.

He growls her name.

She knows he was getting close.

She knows he is on fire.

And now she has a big decision to make…

Will she continue her relentless determination to make him cum in her mouth?

Will she withdraw to straddle him so she can ride him until he screams her name?

Or will she wait until she can feel his cock at the edge of glory and stop.

Yes, stop and deny him his release…

So she can begin this amazing torture all over again.

Possibly maybe
Probably love
Possibly maybe
Probably love

And it was just so easy for him to drape his arms around her like he owned her, but she knew it wasn't the case.

Yet she longs for it...

No, she pines for it...

But isn't longing and pining the same?

And as he slowly turned to face her and looked her in the eyes, she knew she was a goner.

Those eyes - his eyes - she could get lost in them and not find her way back.

And she tried to look away, but he didn't let her.

He cupped her chin with his other hand and just held her gaze.

And she wanted him...

No, she needed him...

But is wanting and needing the same?

Electric shocks?
I love them!
With you dozen a day
But after a while I wonder
Where's that love you promised me?
Where is it?

He grabbed her wrists, pulling them up over her head, and kissed her hard on the lips.

His free hand slipped south, tracing over the slight swell of her stomach before finding that warmth between her legs.

She moaned against his mouth, and he started to stroke her, the pressure increasing with each slide, fingers pressed against cunt, getting slick as each moment slipped past.

And his mouth went from her lips to her neck, savoring the scent of her, the taste, the texture of her skin against his teeth and his tongue.

Her head was rocking back.

Her hips bucking onto his hand.

They fucked, slowly at first, the build more important than the squeeze around his cock, but by the time they were finished he was exhausted, and she was panting.

There were asleep not long after.

Possibly maybe
Probably love
Possibly maybe
Probably love

He kissed her as if it was the last thing he was ever going to do.

His lips touched only her lips, and her body felt as if it was being engulfed.

No part of her was left untouched by the heat of that kiss—his kiss.

And when it was done with her body, it entered her very heart and soul.

It changed from a physical act back to the flame of love it had started from.

But it was one-sided flame.

She knew that.

And yet she welcomed the kiss like it meant he loved her as she did him.

How can you offer me love like that?
My heart's burned
How can you offer me love like that?
I'm exhausted
Leave me alone

She settled on the bed between his legs, crouched and hunched.

The blanket was long gone, thrown off the bed and onto the floor before she’d even started.

Here she was, faced with his soft length, still smelling faintly of sex.

She kissed it, from the base up to the tip, before taking it in her mouth.

It started to come awake far before he did.

It was being stimulated, and so it reacted.

He groaned, but his eyes didn’t flicker.

She grinned. She slid her tongue around that swelling head, finding the gap between foreskin and the
thickness of him, and pushing that oral muscle straight between the two.

He groaned again, longer this time.

It wasn’t the first time she’d woken him up with her mouth.

He groaned again, his hips rolling for a moment, before they stopped.

“What are you doing?” He grumbled.

She sucked, sliding her tongue around the head of him, doing laps.

He groaned again, his whole body twitching.

“What. Are. You. Doing.” His eyes were open now, and his mouth was hanging open slightly, his breath coming in quick.

She didn’t answer him,

Instead, she enjoyed the feel of him in her mouth.

And he filled her mouth with cum.

Possibly maybe
Possibly maybe
Possibly maybe

A patch of sunlight comes through the window and makes me think how good he’d look lying in it.


Like a curled kitten absorbing the warmth.

He was a dangerous notion—a mistake waiting to happen.

Pretty eyes.

A smile that could light up a 10-storey building, and he knew how to use that smile well.

His voice—it melted away the heart of a young soul.

His lips — you could savor them and hang onto them like candy.

He has strong arms and you could grab onto those arms like boulders while riding him like the stallion that he is.

He is a wild notion.

He is a dangerous fact.

She would like to tame him. Claim him as her own.

But she knew she could never.

Since we broke up
I'm using lipstick again
I suck my tongue in remembrance of you...


Shakespeare said “Parting is such sweet sorrow”, but there is nothing sweet about this.

He was gone.

His breath, his scent, his voice, his touch…

How could it hurt so much when he was gone?

For when he was with her, he was her world.

And for a time, she knew she was his.

How cruel it was that it had to end?

Her heart broke.

How could it hurt her so much?

And she still dreams of his hands all over her and how they lay claim over her body.

How his mouth caressed the hollow of her throat.

How her hips rise to meet his.

And she wonders if he dreams of having her beneath him writhing and moaning his name.

Possibly maybe
Possibly maybe
Possibly maybe

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