Life Is Not A Dream

Not even close... Life's got Dreams by the balls...in one soothing suck after another...

Like, especially during a shower...that sweet bland aftertaste of body-wash, as liquid sluices over stomach muscles held taut while a cock bounces above a forehead and face, nearly drowning in lust as well as endless water...

A slight shift, the shower stream turned aside so blinking eyes can gaze upwards, bee-stung lips still rolling the semi hard ellipsoids in their velvet soft sac. Glittering, brown eyes looking down into soft blue ones.

Fingers digging into thighs as a fist grabs wet hair and tugs downward gently, pulling those lips from their task, only to be put immediately to something...harder.

Knees unbending a little so those fingers can crawl up hips...the fist not even needed for a guide as those lips slide over that hardness, small droplets still clinging to lashes. Threatening to drip from the tip of a nose, only to flatten and mix with water sheened over a smooth groin, flowing with the rest running down tensed thighs.

A swallow, deep, almost like a clench, kindling an answering twitch. And a groan, bouncing off a damp ceiling as temptation surrounds and torments. A voice somehow protesting a slow withdrawal and a returned snicker at such, pulling back until those teasing lips are pursed against a tip that dares not move for fearing lost contact. A wicked gleam in eyes blue, wide, and knowing. The seductress has my toes curling against a mat in near frustration, then a sighing moan as she relents. Relents. As if surrender was never the only option. The fist drops away to cradle her cheek.

God, I love this woman.

Dominance? Submission? My yin to her yang. She controls, she relents. I stand above, yet she commands from below. The shower nearly forgotten as the water begins to cool. Her tongue is warm though, enough to banish any common reaction to a flow grown cold. She pulls back and laughs as I reach to shut the damned stream off. I smile in return, my brown eyes dancing also. We step from the tub running gleefully to her bed and fall into it still wet, soaking her sheets. As if we care. There is only her. We hold each other until warmth returns. I reach down and her gaze turns humid, even amongst all the moisture still coating us. I love the way her eyes change when my fingers find...her. She is so easy, when she gives the control back to me.

They stroke her, playing in the difference between wet and slippery...tracing where our shower ends and she begins. So oily. I love that word, too, it is so perfect a description. Like warmed and melted butter. So slick that my fingers are touching the slight ridges just inside her pinked entrance without thought. She convulses. So soon, and I am not even fully in her yet. My free arm encircles her back to pull her closer. I control, now. She surrenders at once, thighs parting, one leg thrown over my two. I'm straining, but these moments are for her, she always comes first. I think figuratively, but she always means literally. I feel her clench. Her hips roll. An f-bomb drops.

"It is so cute how she says that." An anonymous, feminine voice comes from the laptop perched on the bedtable.

I smile into her throat as she comes again.

These are just a beginning...we will not move from this bed except to eat. Feeding one another. Fruit. Salad. Cookies. She knows this as I slide my fingers from her, bringing them up to touch her mouth with them. I hear a tinny groan in the background at the seductive look she gives me as she reaches her tongue to lick them, nearly undoing me. I take my own taste, then lean in to share. Our mouths weld as though they will be forever sealed to the other. She trembles and I hold her tighter and give her more. More kisses. More caresses, more warmth, just more. Whatever she needs she can have. She pulls back and gives me another look, one that says "More." I reach down and find her again, giving her...more.

She grabs me, showing me just what more should be. I jut into her hand as she takes control back again. My hips pump as though she has flipped my switch. Somehow, she is on her back and I am between her thighs. Her knees bend. Her face twists, her need screaming within her. I know her internal frenzy, but I control now, and hold myself aloof for several long moments. Who is tormented more? Her? Me? I cannot tell as I surge towards her. She parts and we slap pelvises before being conscious we have even touched. She groans, a tearing sound of rapture run through with release. Her clench tells me she has come again, on this first stroke. It will hardly be the last as I stagger into movement. I will not last long either, but no mind, we are so tuned to one another, a half minute may as well be hours. There will be hours, we have only to survive these first minutes.

I hear more groans and cat-calls from the laptop but don't care. Our antics are livestreamed constantly, and our clients pay by the hour. Not very much though. We enjoy them watching.

I clutch at her, she at me. Hands palming soft, lolling breasts. Hers digging into shoulders, my shoulders. Those nails will leave marks. I find nipples, peaked and ready. So, so ready. I squeeze them, hard, first her left and then her right, always in that order. She shrieks. Those pebbled rubies are connected to her clit she has told me. I punch into her cunt with my cock, grinding into her barbell as my fingers roll her. No mercy. She writhes and I feel her nails dig deeper. She has a fresh manicure, just slightly garden worn, so this is saying something. My pain spurs me to drop her turgid peaks, but I do so with a pop. She heaves under me and I push into that next clench relentlessly. I have to fuck that tightness. I have to feel how she doesn't allow a drop to exit me until she has come again. But when she finally...relents... I will be locked to her like I'm in rictus. Electrified. She will gloat.

God, I love this woman.

"Yes, you do," comes that feminine voice again. I hadn't realized I let that escape aloud.

I smile though, as I feel her clench again and whimper at my words.

She relaxes, finally, her glove-tight sheath relents. I release in a torrent.

"I need this," I tell her, "I need you."

I have to have her tight cunt. She must have my cock. Yin. Yang. We are one as we both surge against each other as though we are opposing tides. set into motion by sun and moon. Who is which? Who cares? All that matters is the crashing of our waves against each other. Tsunamis that enhance, yet cancel the other's force, before everlasting damage is done.

We rest, breathing heavily. I turn to trace he ear with my tongue. She shivers at this tenderness, her fire still too hot to accept such a luxury. I smile. She is so easy, and I am one to push buttons. I push hers. She...mashes mine down and holds them until my motors overheat. I will never tell her this. I will always show her, instead. As she does to me.

Sleep beckons and I collapse away from her, but she follows, curling into me for the comfort of my arms. I nuzzle the top of her head as her arms wrap. I reach over to close the laptop to protests.

She murmurs, "Love."

God...I love this woman.