Heat Wave 9

It's not the first picture I have been sent by a randy guy who's online with nothing better to do but try to get a response of any kind, preferably favourable and with a happy ending. And I am not typically visually keyed, being female and more moved by the written word, or at least the spoken one. But damn. Is that what it is like to be a guy? You see something and immediately your unruly body is telling you it WANTS and you had better be seeing to it tout de suite. This puts lie to every instance where I have been unmoved by random body part pictures sent over the interweb to my inbox. I admit it has been a while, a very long while in fact, since I have even thought about sex; having it, wanting it, doing it, anything related to it. And even longer since I have been willing to phone it. It surprised me, the strength of my response.

My hands were shaking, my knees were weak, and my pussy so fucking wet I was amazed I could still drip like a damn faucet having written those days off several years ago now. Is it true that years without sex makes us virgins again? I swear I felt like one, alone in my room with the phone (sadly camera-less) clutched in one hand. The other was busy, yes I admit.

Oral fixation has always been my friend, and my lovers' as well. I like to taste; I like to lick and nibble and suck and swallow and experience the world between my lips. I will also admit it is a bit of a power-rush, to have my lips clamped around the most important thing in a man's world, his cock between my teeth. Oh, I only bite if asked very nicely. And I have been. You can imagine my wicked grin here.

What I wanted, what spun through my brain when I saw the picture, surprised me with the visceral power of it. I wanted that musky taste on my tongue, wanted to feel the strong throb of pulse against my fingers as I stroked and guided that cock into my mouth, wanted to suck that suddenly beautiful cock until I heard breath catch and felt fingers fist my hair and tug me off so you could kiss your taste on my tongue and fuck me hard and hot and unstoppable until we both came so hard we saw stars from lack of oxygen and sheer overwhelming greed of wanting to erase the rest of the universe except the sensation of skin on skin and hands stroking and mouths tasting and pulse pounding in time with the slap of flesh against flesh.

In calmer moments I might want smooth, silky movements of bodies and a slow sinking in of sensations as we explore and experiment and discover. But not in that moment. In that split second I was reminded that I am in fact younger than I feel most of the time and still have blood pulsing in my veins, and it is hot with want again, as if the hiatus of years was wiped out by one picture, such a simple common occurrence in this age of instant communication and even more instant gratification.

I want to run my hands over your chest, shoulders, belly, thighs, back, map your skin and discover every hill and valley as if I needed to navigate you blindfolded. I want to test the texture of your skin with my cheek, my hair brushing against you lightly, flickers of sensation as you lie back and let me explore to my heart's content, letting me taste the soft skin behind your ear, stroke my fingers lightly up the inside or your thigh, tease along the length of your hardening cock but not quite paying the attention you would like, not yet anyway. I want plenty of time to make my way there.

I want to taste your kisses, tongues exploring each other, lips soft and teeth opening to drink one another down. I want to hear you tell me what you like, your mouth right on my ear so I can feel your inhale as you detail just what you like and how you like it so I can do my best to give it to you, to touch you and stroke you and taste you and take you in all the ways that will make you growl and groan and come for me.

I want your hands on my skin, opening me and stroking and coaxing and bringing me so close to climax I beg for it and then starting again as you whisper to me your desire, as you bring me again to that peak with your fingers inside me and then take me, slide into me with that marvelous cock as I lock my ankles in the small of your back and my tight wet pussy pulls you deeper.

The want I felt in a split second encompassed all that, lightning fast. I nearly lost the power of speech with so much white hot want in my blood. All from one simple picture that wouldn't have ever flicked my switch a dozen years ago.

You are a man of firsts for me, my darling. The first to elicit a physical response from visual stimuli, the first I ever wanted to call just to fuck on the phone, the first I have wanted to ignore the prerequisites of friendship and clear boundaries for in favour of simple lust. By gods I think you might be the first true lust of my life. That is a pretty damn amazing birthday gift to give me. Though the wisdom of rediscovering that I have a libido at this late date might be lacking. It makes me laugh in delight nonetheless.